Page 17 of Love at First Sighting
I don’twantto feel bad for Special Agent Ken Doll—not after he spent the past night following me around—but based on the desperate, tired look in his eyes and the subtle shake of his hands, and the fact that his fatherwas killed—what choice do I have?
“You…what?”
Carter clears his throat and steps closer to me. Despite what I suspect was an all-nighter and a brief dance with a dumpster, the crisp scent of his skin and the cool bite of his mint gum are overwhelming. The harsh circles under his eyes only sharpen his cheekbones, and the unkempt swoop of his blond hair looks criminally handsome. And he’s rolled his sleeves to the center of his forearms, showing off leanly muscled arms with an aged silver watch strapped around one of his wrists.
“You heard me. I saw something like you did almost fifteen years ago, and two nights later, my dad and I were in a car accident that he didn’t survive. He was my only family and I need to know what happened.”
He takes in a few deep breaths and rakes a shaking hand through his hair. It falls back into place, with slight curls forming at the nape of his neck in the heat. I also notice aseries of jagged scars running up his right arm. They’re silvery-pink and sinewy, but parts of them don’t look like they’ve healed right. I track them all the way up his body to the curved scar beside his eye. I wonder if those scars are from the same fateful night.
Fifteen years. Agent Carter can’t be more than twenty-five. That is a hell of a lot of time to have no family. No matter the kind of relationship I have with my mom, I stillhaveher.
“I’ve been looking for answers for more than half my life and this is the first actual hint I’ve ever had. I need to talk to you to understand what it is we both saw. I don’t doubt you were scared out of your mind. I would’ve been, too. Iwas.”
He speaks with a level of sincerity I swear I haven’t heard in my entire life.
“When I said I wanted to help you, I meant it,” Carter says. “I think we can help each other. I want answers about what happened to my dad and you want to understand what happened to you. And you want proof…don’t you?”
As I stare up at Special Agent Carter Brody, I’m starting to see the man behind the Man in Black, and he’s just as vulnerable as I am. Just as scared as I am.
“How are we supposed to figure that out?” I ask.
“I…” Carter scratches his head and runs his fingertip around the scar near his eye, like an involuntary habit. “Well, I actually don’t know yet. I know this is not regular PIS business. But I do need you to keep this quiet for a bit while we dig. Can you do that?”
“I think my sponsors would appreciate it.”
“Excellent.” He reaches into his pocket and slides out a sleek black business card. His name is embossed in silver with a number.
“This is official-looking,” I say.
“Thank you,” he says, and his smile says he’s shocked to hear it.
“You hand these out to women at bars or something?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “I haven’t thought to try that.”
This close, I notice his blue eyes have flecks of brown in them around the edges. A night of hunting me down has left him with a faint layer of stubble along his jaw, which tightens as I circle him. I slide a finger underneath one of his suspenders—literal suspenders—and snap it like a bra strap. Carter frowns and rubs his chest.
“I wouldn’t,” I advise, slipping the card into my back pocket.
“Why not?”
“If you introduce yourself to a girl and tell her you’re a Man in Black, I don’t know how many would believe you.”
A smirk rises at his lips. “Do you?”
I shrug. “Not sure yet.”
“Call me tomorrow night if you’re free.” His voice sounds like a dangerous invitation.
“Why not tonight?”
He chokes out a sad and desperate laugh. “I need to go to sleep.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes.
“I need you to take me back to the place where you saw the lights.”
