Page 13 of Identify
And both are my fault.
Speak of the devil.
The jingle bells I hung over the front door sound off as it opens and in saunters Mack and his FBI partner Reed. I say saunter, but with Mack it’s really more of a swagger. Like he rolls his hips and shoulders when he walks. It’s sexy as fuck. I raise my chin at them in greeting.
Mack winks in return. “Hey beautiful,” he says as he pulls out a bar stool and situates his big delicious body on top of it. My panties flood and my heart aches. That’s all it takes with him: one little wink and the sound of his voice and I’m ready to launch myself over the bar into his arms and never leave. He’s dangerous and potent. But he’s a Fed and I’m an assassin. You do the math.
Regardless, he’s the love of my life. And we can never be together.
I clear my throat and send a soft smile Mack’s way. “What can I get you two?”
“I need a beer, Daria,” Reed says. Which surprises me. He’s not one to drink on the job, even if it is just a beer.
“Make it two,” Mack adds. Now Mack, he’s another story. He does what he wants when he wants, and it doesn’t matter what time of day it is. But that’s also the difference between someone who worked toward and applied to the Academy, like Reed. And someone recruited out of the military like Mack.
I’ve never been to the FBI Branch here, but I’m willing to bet Mack is the only one not in a suit and tie each day. I look at him now, dressed in jeans and snug black T-shirt that shows off his chest and arms. His hair a tad too long in the front, and the scruff on his face definitely not regulation. He gets away with it because he’s really fucking good at what he does. It’s how he caught me. And also how he makes sure no one else does.
I pull two draft beers from the tap and set them in front of the guys. “Burgers?”
Both nod as they drink their beer. I leave them to go to the kitchen to put in their order. Reed is here enough I know how he likes his burger. And Mack would eat anything I put in front of him. But I still make sure it’s exactly the way he likes it.
I don’t have to go to the kitchen to put their order in, the point of sale system sends a ticket back there already. But something told me they needed a minute to themselves. Something's going on, and I need not be around to hear it. This way I can warn Quinn that Reed is here. She’s had a mad crush on the guy for as long as I can remember and if I let her walk out there after cleaning the restroom, without touching up her makeup or something, she’ll kill me.
I pass along the order to the afternoon cook, then slip inside the men’s restroom just as Quinn is finishing up. “Reed’s here.”
“Did you just say Reed is here?”
I nod.
Her mouth drops open. “ReedReed? My Reed? Reed Roberts?”
“The one and only.”
“Ohmigod, how do I look? Is my hair okay? Ugh, I’m all sweaty from cleaning. I can’t believe you made me clean the bathroom. Do I smell like toilet bowl cleaner?” She pivots to look at herself in the mirror. “Oh, I look good in this tank top.” She turns back and forth, studying her reflection, smoothing the bottom of the tank down over her hips. Then fluffs her hair and smiles before turning back to me. “Okay, I’m going to go out there and pretend like I don’t know he’s here. Then I’m going to act surprised. Then, I’ll ignore him. Got it?”
“Got it.”
We both leave the restroom, but I let her head out to the bar before me. I shut my eyes and lean against the wall, banging the back of my head against it a couple times. It’s frustrating when Mack comes in. But if he didn’t come in, I’d never see him. And if I never saw him, I would miss him even more. Still, I don’t know which is worse.
When I do see him, he runs so hot and cold with me. Based on how he greeted me it seems like today will be nice. We will act civil toward one another, maybe even complimentary, with a little flirting, and I’ll escape from the encounter only slightly scathed.
The days where it’s clear he hates the very sight of me are the hardest. When his gaze is cold, his mannerisms are detached, and every word out of his mouth is for the sole purpose of causing me pain. Those are the days I must physically stop myself from running back to him and begging for forgiveness. I see the pain on his face, and I want to make it go away. Slay all the demons inside him and erase every speck of betrayal in his eyes. Instead, I shut down, turning off every single emotion inside me until he leaves. Only then do I allow myself to disappear into my office, lock the door, and cry until I have nothing left.
I hit my head against the wall one last time to knock some sense into myself before I go back out there to face Mack again.
“Careful with the goods, don’t break that beautiful head.”
I swear the tips of my smile and the strings to my heart are directly tied to the sound of his voice. Both start to move as soon as he speaks. I wait until his heavy steps have stopped in front of me before I open my eyes. Mack’s soulful brown ones are shining back at me.
“How are you doing?” he asks softly, running the back of his hand along my cheekbone.
I lean into his touch but force myself to put my hands in my back pockets to avoid touching him back.
“Good. You?”
“Miss you.” His voice is low and gruff. He moves to place his hands on the wall above my head and leans in, his forehead close to touching mine. Our lips mere inches apart.
“Don’t tell me that,” I whisper.
