Page 82 of Putting Out
The question was more of a statement since he was pulling her out of the kitchen and through the great room outside onto the patio.
“Watch, I’m spilling my coffee.” She lifted the mug to her lips and slurped, knowing caffeine was an imperative for the upcoming conversation.
“You’re not swapping rooms with Pierce. You’re moving into my room.”
She tried to be somewhat sympathetic. He’d been away. It was his house. He was feeling guilty. She’d start with reason.
“I’m not moving into your room. First, what would Kenny think? Second, I’m not a five-year- old. Wait. Scratch that. Move second into first and first to second.”
“Kenny is eventually going to have to learn we’re lovers.”
“No, he’s not since technically, we’re ex-lovers. While I’ve been happy to oblige the occasional hookup between your marriages, don’t get the impression that I’ll be waiting in the wings when this new relationship ends.”
Luke scrubbed a hand over his face.
“You’ve been happy to oblige? I can assume you’re confusing the words obligation and orgasm. Happy to oblige,” he spat. “If I didn’t know you were trying to be brave I would spank you right now.”
She wished she could refute what he said, but he was right. Her stand for independence was a front, but the front was something she needed to hang on to. She was pretty sure it was the only thing making her believe she would be ready to play in the American in a few weeks.
“You do know me. You know I want to be brave. Have to be brave. And as much as having you or Kenny stand guard every night over my bed while I sleep sounds appealing, it’s not something I’m going to let happen.”
“Luke!” Pierce called out from the great room.
“You’ve got company. I think your friend from the FBI is here.”
Luke nodded. “This isn’t over.”
* * *
Luke movedinto the foyer expecting to find Bob but instead, found a stranger. “You’re not Bob.”
He was a tall man dressed in a dark blue suit. “No, I’m Agent Mark Leonard with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
He removed a billfold from inside his suit coat and opened it to reveal a badge on one side and identification on the other.
“I’m looking for a Luke Nolan. You him?”
“I am,” he said. “How did you get through the gate?”
“That gate isn’t so secure. I followed behind a car coming in. Bob Simms says hello.” Instantly, Luke released his breath. “You know Bob. I was just about to call him again.”
“You won’t be able to reach him. He’s on assignment. But he sent me the package you sent him. You must have asked him…How is it hanging? He said to tell you… Same as always. Long.”
“Sounds like Bob.”
Agent Leonard offered his hand and Luke shook it. He figured there had to be something about the FBI hiring good-looking men. Like Bob, Leonard had the all-American good looks of a guy who played quarterback in high school and dated the head cheerleader. He was taller than Luke and a bit broader. His brown hair was short, but not buzzed and his brown eyes gleamed with intelligence.
“Bob and I go back a ways. I’m headquartered out of the Atlanta office. He knew he was leaving on a job and asked me since I was closer, if I could look into it.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Luke assured him. “Did something happen? Another letter?”
“Not a letter,” Reilly said, coming up behind him. “You should see it.”
They all led the agent up the stairs to the bedroom with the painted mark. Despite her previous attempt at bravery, she chose to stay out of the room.
Mark let out a low whistle as he studied the paint.
“It happened last night,” Kenny said. “He came in while she was sleeping. When she woke up, he bolted.”
