Page 22 of Kings Against the World

I stand back as he quickly tries, and fails, to hide some of the mess in the room. He not-so-discreetly shoves a pile of clothes under a sofa cushion and then punts a pizza box under the entertainment center.

“Don’t mind the mess—things’ve been a little hectic at the office. You know how these 9- to-5s can be.”

He shoots me a playful grin that probably makes most women melt. It’s flirtatious wit that’s charming and amusing.

But I’m not that kind of woman—I don’t let myself be charmed and I don’t laugh at men’s jokes to feed their ego.

I’m the woman that plans on spending the rest of her life alone if it means avoiding a relationship like my parents.

I’m an FBI agent about to go deep undercover to make the man who ruined my sister pay.

“Gallagher, I’m here to brief you about the undercover operation for Boone’s tournament.”

“You mean the part where we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes… that situation.”

“I thought we broke up,” he calls from where he’s disappeared into the kitchen. I hear the rustle of garbage bags.

“You heard Boone. He’s going to expect us to ‘work it out’. We’re in this tournament together.”

“Funny, ’cuz I thought I was going to be the only one playing.” He re-emerges in the kitchen doorway with a cup of coffee and his blue eyes shining in amusement.

He raises the coffee mug to his lips, showing off his long torso bathed in vivid, colorful ink. He has a naturally lean body type, like the build of a swimmer.

It’s admittedly a nice view after weeks without a fuck buddy. My last one, Jeremy, recently moved out of D.C. for a new job opportunity.

“You know what I mean. You’ll be playing in the tournament. I’ll be working club services for the tournament,” I snap, agitated by the heat warming my skin. “My director has approved the undercover mission so long as you’re working as my operative.”

“Sounds cool,” he teases, his grin crooked. “Does that make me an undercover special agent?”

I shake my head incorrigibly at him. “No, Gallagher, that doesn’t make you a special agent. It makes you an undercover informant for the FBI.”

“Whoa, I don’t fuck with the FBI?—”

“You don’t have a choice,” I interrupt sharply. “Either you cooperate and any wrongdoing on your record will be wiped clean, or you refuse—and go down with Boone and his cronies the moment we crack the case. Make your decision now, Gallagher. There’s no turning back.”

He sets down his mug of coffee and steps toward me, the humor wiping out on his face. Suddenly he’s close enough for his energy to change the chemicals in the air. I feel the difference immediately, my head reeling as I process his proximity.

He’s way too close, invading my space, making me lose my train of thought.

“Fine, Special Agent,” he says, peering straight into my eyes. He’s so close, his face hovering a few inches above mine, that he could easily kiss me. Just like we’d done weeks ago in front of Boone. Just like we’ll be forced to do again soon. “Okay, we’ll work together. I’ll have to figure out something to tell the MC about my absence, but I’m in. Under one condition, that is. I get to smash that plump little ass of yours.”

I part my lips in shock, my pulse racing.

His grin returns, pleased he’s rendered me speechless. “Kidding, Special Agent. But I will get you to like me by the end of this gig.”

“I highly, highly doubt it.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ll win you over and you won’t even realize it.” He winks at me before he steps away.

I roll my eyes and question what bad deed I could’ve possibly committed in a past life to find myself partnered with a man like Oswald Gallagher.

We depart from Pulsboro that afternoon, catching a last-minute flight into Vegas. I do my best to separate myself from Gallagher at the airport, but he insists that we sit together at the terminal, citing that we’re supposed to behave like any other couple.

“We’re not even in Vegas yet,” I say through clenched teeth.

“And? What if Boone has eyes here in the area? You’d be surprised. Boone’s known all over Texas.”

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