Page 44 of Deadly Secrets
Roman did a double take and stood, the chair legs scraping the floor. “Ludacris? When did you get back?”
The two men clasped fists and did a manly hug with exaggerated back slaps. Ludacris glanced Brooke’s way, back to Roman. “Two weeks ago. I didn’t think I’d ever make it out, but they finally got sick of me.”
They both chuckled. Roman shook his head. “Never thought I’d see you retire.”
“Never thought I would.” He put his hands on his hips, reminding Brooke of a boot camp instructor. “Hey, I was sorry to hear about Percy.”
Roman’s casual stance stiffened. His attention focused on his gun again. “Yeah, thanks.”
“He was a good man. I never had any trouble with him. But all those tours,”—Ludacris shook his head—“it messes with guys, you know? Then to get hurt on top of that and need those damn pain killers. What a waste.”
Roman stepped back and fiddled with the stock of his gun. “Tell me about it,” he muttered.
His fingers twitched and the utter sadness enveloping him had Brooke jumping to her feet. She stuck out a hand, moving in close to Roman. “Brooke Heaton. Nice to meet you.”
Ludacris gave her a half-smile and they shook. “Ludacris Van Pelt. You a friend of Roman’s?”
He winked at her, emphasis on the word friend.
“We’re working together. He’s teaching me to shoot.”
“Working together, huh? You still with the Domestic Terrorism Taskforce?” he asked Roman.
“Absolutely.” Roman touched Brooke’s back. A subtle thank you, she thought. “Dr. Heaton is consulting for us.”
“Doctor, huh?” Ludacris gave her another look. “Well, you’re working with an awesome team. Take care of my boy, here.”
She smiled sweetly. “You’ll excuse us. We need to get back to the office.”
Ludacris shook Roman’s hand, saying they should get together for lunch some day and catch up. Roman agreed, but Brooke knew he was lying.
“Thanks,” he murmured to her, as they resumed their seats. He started snapping his gun back together.
She gave him an innocent look. “For what?”
He glanced up. “You know what.”
“We all have things we don’t want to talk about. I don’t like to talk about my mom, you don’t want to talk about your brother. I got your back.”
Guns cleaned and in working order again, Roman took her hand and led her out of the range. A day ago, Brooke realized, it would have been awkward and she would have pulled away. Instead, she entwined her fingers with his, her steps buoyant and light as they made their way across the parking lot to his car.
“Is there a bookstore around here?” she asked as Roman helped her into the passenger seat.
He eyed her and gave a shrug. “I suppose I can find one, why?”
“There’s a reference book I need that might help the case. As long as we’re picking up some clothes and shampoo for me, I thought I’d check the bookstore.”
His eyes narrowed as if trying to see through the lie. “A reference book.”
Yep, he definitely wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t care. She gave him a stern look. “The key to successfully solving a case is in the research, Roman.”
And boy, did she need some Julia-type research to handle the hero staring back at her.
Thesmolderinghero staring back at her.
Brooke swallowed.
“You really think a book is going to help with this?”
