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PROLOGUE

One yearago

Lanie

“Here’s to another win,” Keaton Clarke toasted; his glass raised high in the air. Besides he and I, we were joined by Koen Banks and Noah Anderson. The four of us were federal agents—FBI to be exact—stationed at a satellite office in the small town of Huntington, West Virginia.

Noah and Keaton had been at the Huntington office a few years before I was assigned there. Koen came a few months later. There was an instant connection between us all, a bond of sorts, which made working together easier than breathing. We were more than coworkers, we were a functionally dysfunctional family; each with our own demons to overcome, but it worked well for us. Most likely because we didn’t delve too deep into each other’s pasts. The surface stuff, like why we’d chosen a path to the FBI, was common knowledge around the office. Beyond that, weacted as if our lives before the academy were nonexistent and some of us wanted to keep it that way.

For the past six months, we’d been investigating a series of bank robberies which took place along the Ohio River. The perps had targeted small financial institutions in Kentucky, Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania. Each time, their escape involved the massive waterway between the states. We finally had a huge break in the case, resulting in the arrests of two key players.

To celebrate, we went to Sunset, a quaint little sports bar and grill in the heart of town. It had become our usual haunt to unwind after we closed a case. The food was top-notch, the alcohol was flowing, and the owner was easy on the eyes. Too bad my eyes were pointed in a different direction.

“I’ll drink to that,” I offered, lifting my glass to clink against theirs.

I lost track of how many toasts were made throughout the night. By the time the bartender hollered out last call, I couldn’t feel my lips, meaning my blood alcohol level was somewhere between shit-faced and blitzed beyond recognition.

While Keaton and Koen went to take care of the bill, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. When I finished taking care of business and washed my hands, I staggered into the hallway, using the wall to hold my drunk ass up while I fumbled through my purse. Finding my phone near the bottom of the bag, I quickly pulled it out, ordering an Uber from the app.

“Can I share a ride with you?”

“Jesus, Noah.” My hands flew to my chest and the phone crashed to the floor. “You scared the shit outta me.”

For someone six feet tall and pushing two hundredtwenty pounds of solid muscle, he was unusually quiet on his feet. My best guess was he’d learned those particular skills from our supervisor, Duncan Palmer. That man was constantly popping up out of nowhere with his stealthy ways.

“Sorry. I thought you saw me.”

He bent, snagging the phone before I had the chance. Our fingers grazed when I took it from him, and it was like being struck by a static charge. The hair stood up on my arms and my body became very much aware of his. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this reaction to his close proximity and it wasn’t even a recent development, though lately it had become nearly impossible to control.

All night long, he’d been driving me crazy. A brush of his thigh against mine under the table during dinner; fingertips splayed across my upper back between my shoulder blades when he casually threw his arm over the back of my chair. For all I knew, it was simply the alcohol talking, or maybe it was more.

“Thanks,” I muttered, making my way back to our table.

“Well, can I?”

It took me a second to remember his question. “Sure.” I shrugged, acting casual with my response, even though my pulse fluttered wildly below my skin.

Somewhere along the line, I’d become interested in uncovering the man beneath the quietly composed brooding man Noah portrayed to the rest of the world. Ignoring my feelings hadn’t worked. Neither had distracting myself by going out with other men, which became clear when none of them earned a second date. How could they, when all I thought about was drowning in Noah’s ocean-blue eyes or—heaven help me—running my fingers through his wavy,dark-brown locks just to find out if they were as soft as they looked.

Dammit!

Right there in the middle of the bar, my panties dampened, which was the exact reason why an intoxicated Lanie shouldn’t be alone with or share a ride with Noah. It was hard enough to hide my infatuation without my brain being muddled by booze. The very last thing I wanted to do was fuck up the flow of our team or our friendship. But instead of politely turning him down, I opened my mouth and inserted my foot.

Dammit again.

The four of us stepped out onto the empty sidewalk, just as the phone vibrated in my hand with a notification.

“Our ride’s here.” I pointed to the black sedan idling at the curb.

“You sure we can’t give you a lift?” Noah looked at the other two men.

“We’re good,” Keaton answered. “Koen’s crashing at my place tonight and since it’s not far, we’ll hoof it. The fresh air will do us both some good anyway.”

After saying goodnight, Noah and I slid into the back seat of the Uber. Our homes weren’t far apart geographically; however, it would have made more sense to drop him off first. Instead of giving his address to the driver, he hooked his pinkie finger with mine, then leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. I didn’t dare move or breathe or blink for that matter because to do so could have meant possibly severing the connection he’d created.

I followed his lead, closing my eyes in an effort to slow the spinning in my head. The closer we got to my townhouse, the heavier my breathing became. It would’ve been embarrassing had I not noticed Noah’s was the same.

By the time the Uber stopped in front of my house, the tension was so thick I could’ve reached out and poked it. Then when Noah stepped out of the car with me, I wouldn’t allow myself to believe his actions were anything more than him being a gentleman. He’d walk me safely to my door and that would be the end of our night…except it wasn’t.

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