Page 59 of Ace of Spades
He sweetly smiled. “That you two are meant for each other. Also, I want you to know that there’s nothing Court and I, along with our wives, would love more than to welcome you into the family. I wanted to be sure you knew you had our blessing.”
His declaration warmed her heart, but ... “Jeez, Alex, don’t go and order wedding invitations. We’ve only just started”—she waved a hand in the air—“you know.” There was that mischievous grin again, and she braced herself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. God, why had she even admitted that much?
“Doing the dirty?” He stood. “About time.”
She buried her face in her hands but couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up. “You’re impossible,” she said through her fingers.
“So Madison tells me.”
“What does Madison tell you?”
Taylor dropped her hands back to her desk and gave Rand a shrug. “Ignore him.” Rand Stevens was tall, blond, had pretty blue-gray eyes, and was definitely eye-candy status. Why wasn’t she interested in him? They’d have beautiful blue-eyed babies. Not that she ever planned to have any babies with anyone. Also, why was he carrying a vase of flowers?
“These are for you,” he said, setting the vase on her desk. “Security asked me to bring them up to you.”
She froze as she stared at them, dread slithering through her as her stomach threatened to rebel, the coffee she’d drunk turning to acid.
“Taylor?” Alex said, concern in his voice.
“Take them away,” she said, then ran to the bathroom with her hand clamped over her mouth. Somehow, she managed to keep the contents in her stomach, but it had taken some deep breaths—her hands pressed hard against her waist and her face over the toilet bowl—before she was sure she wasn’t going to be sick. She stumbled to the sink, and as she drenched her face in cold water, a memory skittered around the edges of her mind. One she didn’t want to come to light. Ever. What that memory was, she didn’t know, but it was there and it was ugly. That she did know.
“Taylor?” Alex softly said, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
She buried her face back into the water. “Can’t you read? This is the women’s room.” Her words were gurgled, as if her mouth was drowning. It was. She was.
“Taylor,” Alex said again, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I called Nate. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Yes, Nate. She wanted Nate.
“Can you tell me what just happened? Do you know who the flowers are from?”
No and yes.She grabbed a wad of paper towels, pressing them against her face. She was Special Agent Taylor Collins, highly skilled and trained to kill. She was a Krav Maga black belt. A woman in a man’s world, holding her own. It was mortifying that she wanted to lock the door and curl into a corner with a loaded gun in her hand, ready to shoot, all because of a vase of flowers.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just had too much coffee.”
“I call bullshit.”
She lowered the paper towels, ready to give Alex hell, but the compassion in his eyes was her undoing. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she didn’t know why. That she was crying in front of Alex made herangry. An FBI agent didn’t cry, especially a female one. It made her appear weak.
“What’s the deal with the flowers?” Alex said. “Are they from a boyfriend?” He frowned. “You don’t have one of those, do you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t have a mystery boyfriend, but I have no idea why I reacted the way I did.” And she really didn’t. Only that the sight of the flowers felt like a knife right through her heart. “They’re from our killer.” That much she did know, but not why she did.
“Shit. No wonder you’re upset.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We need to check the vase for fingerprints.”
She wasn’t upset because they were from their bad guy, but she didn’t correct his assumption because she couldn’t explain—even to herself—why the pink tulips troubled her.
“I doubt his fingerprints are on the vase, but yeah, send them over to the lab. Also, tell Rand to talk to security. How were they delivered, and where did they come from?”
“Taylor?” Nate burst into the bathroom, practically knocking Alex over with the door.
She tossed the paper towels into the trash. “Um, you both do realize this is the ladies’ room, right?”
Nate pulled the door back open. “Get lost, Alex.”
“Going.”
When they were alone, Nate closed the distance between them. “Why are you crying?”
