Page 22 of Hot Pursuit
“I bet he wishes he were under it,” she commented smoothly.
Thad almost choked on his sandwich. “Jo Jo.”
“It’s harmless.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s entertaining.”
“It’s reckless.”
Jo couldn’t help it. She broke the rules and turned to stare into his stormy eyes. “Oh please, you can’t be serious, giving me a lecture. You’ve got a girl in every city of this country just waiting for your call. Just try to tell me you slept alone last night. I dare you.”
The corner of his lip began to rise, but he forced it to stop. “That’s different. They’re not cops.”
“And nothing is going to happen,” Jo bit back. “My flirting is keeping him distracted. It’s not only fun, it’s advantageous. I might as well use all the tools in my arsenal.”
“That’s all…?” Thad dipped his chin as he probed her expression.
Jo shifted her head forward again. “That’s all.”
“The gala is three days away. You do your part, and I’ll do the rest. Meet back tomorrow, same time, second rendezvous point.”
“Done,” Jo agreed.
Without another glance, Thad stood and crumpled the empty sandwich wrap in his hand before tossing it into the trash. Then he paused with his back still turned, but his head angled casually toward her.
“Forgot to ask—how was the cronut?”
Jo released a dejected puff of air. “Ungodly delicious.”
A soft peal of laughter escaped his lips before he walked away, shoulders shaking ever so slightly as he disappeared into the crowd. The less time they spent with each other, the better, which was why they’d discussed the plan so elaborately before. But that didn’t make her feel any less alone.
Jo waited another half an hour or so before she got up from the bench and hailed a cab. The driver deposited her back at her hotel, where an agent waited in plain clothes in the lobby. She nodded to the woman as she walked by and made her way to the elevator, preparing for a long, lonely night of typing ahead.
- 10 -
Nate
“I think she’s going in, sir,” Nate muttered into the mic at his wrist. He kept the camera at his eyes and zoomed in as Jo Carter climbed the grand front steps to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They’d followed her to two more bakeries that morning—Nate for the life of him didn’t understand how a woman who ate like her looked like her as well, but that was beside the point. He was still furious about losing her the day before, a failure that was only accentuated by the fact that as soon as she’d returned to her hotel room, she’d found all five of the bugs they’d had a team plant while she was gone. He’d heard them go out, one by one by one, leaving dead silence. Meaning, he had nothing. Abso-freaking nothing. “Should we send someone in? This is about the same time she lost us yesterday.”
“Yeah. Beta team already lost Ryder, about an hour ago. There’s definitely a meet going down, and I want eyes on this time.” Their boss came on the line. Nate met Leo’s gaze. They sighed together. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with the performance thus far. “I want you to go in, Parker.”
Nate choked on his breath. “Excuse me, sir?”
“You heard me, Parker. She seems to like you. Even invited you to join her yesterday. Why don’t we give the woman what she wants?”
“She was trying to get a rise out of me, sir,” Nate countered. “Nothing more.”
He could practically hear his boss shrug through the comms. “Even so, she might talk to you, if you ask the right questions. You might be able to distract her enough to cause her to slip up. Just put on some charm, Parker.”
Nate curled his upper lip. “With all due respect, sir, if you want charm, we should send in my partner.”
“Hey now,” Leo cut in, speaking directly to Nate and not into his mic. “Don’t drag me into this.”
Nate shot a glare in his direction while the radio buzzed with static.
“Let’s go, Parker.”
