Page 13 of A Labor of Hate
And yet, this was the closest I’d ever been.It may even be the closest I’d ever get, too.Something I wanted so much, that I thought would be reserved for sharing with someone who truly loved me, and it was all fake.And who was my partner in all of this?
Colt.Freaking.Dixon.
I looked away from the ring to catch a glimpse of the fake husband of the hour, only to stop short.He, too, was looking at the silver band on his finger.His lips were pressed into a tight frown, and his brow was furrowed, but it wasn’t with annoyance or disgust or any of the emotions he typically experienced around me.No, if I were to categorize it, his expression could only be one of profound sadness.
It almost made my heart hurt.
Almost.
Because then he looked up, met my eyes, and whatever I thought I’d seen was replaced with a loathing so intense I could practically hear it crackle like a bonfire in the space between us.I returned the favor, pouring all my discontent at the situation into the stare-down.
“Well, Jonas, I’d say you picked the perfect pair,” Hattie teased.“They’ll have no problem selling their story.Look, they’ve already got the bedroom eyes down pat.”
Our heads whipped toward her in unison, Colt’s disgust and indignance rivaled only by my own.I wasn’t sure what hallucinogens she’d ingested to misinterpret the mutual resentment between the two of us, but whatever it was had to be potent.Never in a million,billion,years would I hook up with Colt.Ever.
Ev-er.
Just so we’re clear.
Colt shared the same sentiment, apparently.“I can assure you, nothing of that nature would ever happen between us.”
Okay, so that was about a thousand times stuffier than I would’ve said it, but at least we were on the same page.
“Good,” McBride mercifully intervened.“I’m trusting you two to remain professional, even if your cover is as a married couple.”He looked between me and Colt meaningfully.“You’ll be in so deep that the lines between your cover and reality may become blurry.I chose you two because I feel you’ll be able to resist what many others in the same situation would not.”
Yeah, no problems with that one, chief.Done and done.
Colt nodded sharply.“You can count on us, sir.”
I mirrored his nod.Faking anything even semi-romantic between us would be hard enough, so it was safe to say I’d rather eat my favorite pair of fuzzy socks than so much as kiss Colt Dixon.
“Good.”McBride hefted the box off the table before Hattie could grab it.She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, but I didn’t miss the way her frown of disapproval twitched.Whatever the history was between them, it was far from over.“You two stay here.There are a few more details to iron out.Now, as far as preparations go if the assignment lasts longer…”
Their voices trailed off as he showed Hattie out, leaving Colt and me to stew in the uncomfortable silence.The air in the conference room may as well have been molasses for how sticky and heavy it felt.I refused to look at Colt, instead counting the distant cars passing on the street below.
Finally, he broke the silence.“It’s not too late for you to back out, you know.We can still find someone from another squad.”
I bristled and set my jaw.“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?There’s no way I’m going to pass up the chance to takeLe Chimistedown, with or without you.”
He raised his hands in a mock surrender.“You just seemed uncomfortable, is all.”
“Full offense, but you probably sleep with your clothes iron snuggled under your arm.Your idea of comfort and mine are entirely different species.”
Was I uncomfortable?Well,duh.I wore a fake stomach that threatened to squelch if I so much asthoughtabout sweating, I was fake-married to my nemesis, and Hattie seemed convinced that we were a match made in Heaven rather than a pair of rabid alley cats thrown into a cage match.We’d team up against a common enemy, but the moment we were left to our own devices, the claws came out.
So, yeah.Uncomfortablewas a bit of an understatement.
“So it doesn’t bother you at all to think that we’re husband and wife?”
I grit my teeth, forcing the word past my lips.“Nope.”
“Or that we’ll have to voluntarily touch each other?”
“Not at all.”I might’ve stood a chance of convincing him if my voice hadn’t pitched an entire octave higher.At his dubious look, I added, “I’m a professional, and you have the personality of a bleached calculator.Touching you won’t be an issue.”
It wouldn’t beenjoyable, of course, but the real threat was spending every waking moment around him.Thatwould be enough to propel me up the wall and into the funny farm.
“It won’t?”He raised a cocky brow, his trademark smirk sliding into place.
