Page 16 of Resurrection

My lips twist in annoyance as I focus on my plate. “I shouldn’t have fucking said that, okay. I was surprised to see you at my house, meeting with my brother, talking about shit you knew nothing about.”

“Fine. But you don’t appreciate why I’m wearing this shirt.” She flicks the collar with her fingers.

“Whose is it?”

“Eric’s.”

“Then I understand exactly why you’re wearing it.”

“The shirt is comfortable.”

“Bullshit. You’re telling me to stay the fuck away. You don’t need to. I have no intention of trying to get in your pants.” I trail her body again, greedy for the curves barely outlined by the oversize button-up. “Or up your shirt. As soon as we’ve worked out the details, I’ll be out of your life again.”

She tucks her hair behind her ears and avoids eye contact. With her fingers, she takes apart another slice of bacon.

The dishes Lena’s been washing in silence clatter into the second sink. She glances over her shoulder and bites her lip.

“Sorry.”

“Want help?” I rise from my seat and bring my dish over to slide it onto the counter beside her.

When I turn around, Carys is gone.

“She’s not as tough as she seems.” Her voice is quiet beside me.

“I know,” I say. “That’s why I need to stay the hell out of her life. I blow lives up, I don’t keep them safe.”

“You’re starting over.” She plucks a dish towel from the rack beside me. “Maybe you can restart that attitude too.”

I give her a long look, searching her open, serious face.

“You’re one of those people.”

A smile touches her lips. “Those people?”

“Like Carys.”

I take my dish and place it into the dishwasher. Sliding my coffee off the island, I walk away.

“You want to see the good in people, even when it’s not there.”

Chapter Six

Carys

I’m in my office, behind my desk, a pantsuit on, hair tied back in a messy bun. All business in here. Professional. What he said earlier doesn’t matter because I don’t want to sleep with him either. I didn’t wander down the stairs in Eric’s shirt, fantasizing about what it would be like to have Finn rip the buttons off me and fuck me on the counter in my kitchen. Nope. Didn’t cross my mind. Not even once.

God. I slept with Eric to unwind me, make these residual emotions easier. Instead I spent the night with him, lost in thoughts of Finn. Eric’s lips, close to my ear murmuring about how wet I was, how good I felt, made me want to scream, and not in a good way. Eventually I had to tell him to shut up before he ruined the mood. And by mood, I mean the fantasies in my head his voice kept destroying. I wanted to shut my eyes and dream of Ireland.

Turns out I’m a forty-five-year-old woman still addicted to the danger that’s about to walk into my office any minute. I asked Lena to bring him to me so we could go over places to live. Noextradition treaties. Isolationist, or not overly friendly with the USA, would be best. It’s a small list.

Knuckles rap on the outside of the door before Finn opens it with his fingertips. I rise behind the desk as he saunters in. As he eases into the chair across from me, I sink into mine.

“What have you got?” he says.

Picking up the sheet in front of me, I double-check it before sliding it toward him. He looks good since he took those drugs earlier. Better coloring. More relaxed. Probably the opposite of what he sees in me right now.

“This is it?” He waves the list at me, frowning. “Cuba, Switzerland, Russia, and Iran?”