Page 7 of Lover
“O-okay, I...I’ll be there as quick as I can.” Rory stuttered before disconnecting the call.
Keeping busy while he waited, Rand went through his email and responded to as many as he could. He’d just finished a protein bar when there was a knock on the door. “Yes,” he called out, standing as Rory pushed the door open. “Come in, Agent, and have a seat.” He pointed to the comfortable armchair in the corner of his office.
Something he’d learned from an admiral he served with in the Navy—always make the person you’re questioning comfortable; get them to let down their guard. So, Rand transformed one corner of his spacious office to make it look and feel like home. Two microsuede chairs sat angled on either side of a coffee table, a simple lamp and a globe on top with a tall bookshelf against the wall behind them. “Catcher in the Rye, that’s one of my favorites.” Rory smiled almost shyly.Bingo!
“Really? Mine too. I think I’ve read that one enough times that I could recite it from memory.” Rand laughed, offering Rory a drink from his minifridge. “I have water, tea, some sodas...or I can make hot tea and coffee in the Keurig.”
“Just water, please.” Rory attempted another smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. Rand grabbed two bottles of water, crossing the office and taking the seat beside Rory, receiving a muttered “Thank You” when he handed him one of the bottles.
Those nimble fingers that had grazed his palm earlier twisted the cap off the bottle, drawing Rand’s attention to his hands. He followed the movement as the agent lifted the bottle to his mouth, cataloging his features. Jet-black hair that brushed his shoulders framed his angular face, his jawline showing the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow, but it was the man’s extremely expressive green eyes that held Rand’s attention. When the agent first entered Rand’s office his posture was rigid, eyes uncertain. In just the five minutes he’d been there, he was far more comfortable—back still stiff, face a mask but overall, he was calmer. Rory Landers was smart and had tenacity, which would get him a lot further in the Bureau than muscle or brawn.
“I’d beat around the bush, Agent Landers, but it’s not my style.” Rand leaned back in the chair, loosening his tie. “I need to know how and why you allowed the lines to blur from a professional relationship to an intimate one with Officer Moore.”
Sighing, shoulders slumping, Landers downed the remaining water and tossed the bottle into the trash can beside the desk. He leaned forward, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. “It happened a few months after I was assigned to shadow Frank...er, Officer Moore.”
Rand waved his hand in the air. “This is meant to be nothing more than a chat, Agent Landers. You can call him Frank. It’s fine.”
The man glared at him—and fuck it all if that wasn’t appealing, Rand didn’t know what it was. No one ever challenged him the way Rory Landers did. His title afforded him a certain amount of respect, and normally he would bring that fact to Agent Landers’s attention. But for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the Agent’s confidence intrigued him.
Bringing his hand to his mouth, Rory faked a cough to cover the laugh he almost let out. “Well, if we’re dispensing with formalities, then let’s lose the ‘Agent Landers,’ Detective.”
Rand chortled. “Okay, Rory. But only if you call me Rand—I insist.”
Slowly, one corner of Rory’s mouth lifted, and he shook his head. The man was as intriguing as he was infuriating. “All right, Rand. Like I was saying, it was six months I think, after I initially met Frank as Trevor. I knew, since I was tailing him, that he was taking an impromptu trip to New Orleans, so I made sure Trevor was working the flight from Dallas to NOLA. When the flight landed, he got a text from the friend he was meeting that his flight was canceled. I had the night there, so he asked me if I’d like to join him for dinner.
“I made him work for it—didn’t want to seem too eager, but I eventually told Frank I’d join him. God, we talked for hours, literally closing down the hotel restaurant.” Rory smiled, a whimsical glow lighting up his face. “After, he asked to walk me to my room, taking my hand when we got into the elevator, and I’m pretty sure you can use your imagination from there. The next morning my alias had a flight back to Dallas, and Frank decided to head back to the airport as well, try to catch a standby flight, and we exchanged contact information.”
Staring off into space, Rory was remembering that exchange fondly, judging by the sappy grin and twinkle in the agent’s eye. Rand was bereft, wondering if anyone he’d ever spent time with remembered him as affectionately. Rory blinked, seeming to realize where he was as he sat up straight and pulled on the collar of his shirt. Rand wanted the carefree man sitting across from him moments ago back. “Anyway, we met up again a few months later in Dallas and mutually agreed to a ‘friends with benefits’ type of relationship. I always knew there was a part of him that Frank wasn’t sharing, that he held something back. I didn’t fully realize what that was until this morning...seeing him and Taylor.” Eyes misty, Rory blinked and looked away.
Christ almighty.Rand could see now exactly how Frank Moore had become a permanent fixture in the agent’s life for the past nine years. His body language was likened to sign language: every movement a clue, facial expressions a dead giveaway, and those fucking eyes.Damn.Rand could get lost in those eyes and drown, given the chance. The man that Rand had worked with previously on the case in Washington, the man that had stepped into his office the day before—he was by no means readable. Expressionless, precise, and void of emotion, when Rory was in work mode, he was probably unstoppable.
A thought occurred to him then. “You were hoping to become more than just fuck buddies when the investigation was over, once the case was solved, weren’t you?”
“Jesus, Rand. Do you have to be so crass?” Rory growled.
“Yes.”
“You really are a pain in the ass.” Landers snorted. “Yes, I wanted more, much more. But none of that matters now, does it?” Standing and straightening his suit coat, the man glared down at him. “If that’s all, Detective, let me know if you have any more questions regarding the Langford case.”
Taken aback by the agent’s curtness, he watched Rory open the door and walk out of his office without so much as a backward glance. It took Rand a moment to gather his thoughts and by then, the elevator doors were closing with Rory inside.I don’t know whether I want to throttle him or kiss him, Rand thought, pursing his lips to keep from grinning like an idiot. Special Agent Rory Landers was a conundrum. One that Rand fully intended to unravel, piece by piece.
Chapter Six
Shannon New Year’s Eve 2015
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Stopping at the large, wrought iron gates, Shannon pushed the button on the call box and waited for Taylor or Frank to answer. After the mind-numbing fiasco at the apartment the two men shared—Taylor’s father trying to kill him in the kitchen—they never went back. Well, Frank had gone back and enlisted the help of his partner on the force, Shannon, and a few other people to help pack up their belongings and hand them off to the movers to be carted to the townhouse they’d leased in the gated community. It cost a pretty penny, from what Taylor had told Shannon, but Frank wasn’t willing to risk Taylor’s safety.
He blinked when Taylor’s voice traveled through the speaker box; loud music and rowdy people could be heard in the background. “Is that you, Shan?”
“It is. Wait, why do you assume it’s me?”
Taylor chuckled, and Shannon could hear Frank’s muffled voice as well. “’Bout damn time he arrived—late as usual, Dupree!”
The gate buzzed and slowly swung open. He didn’t bother to respond to Frank’s comment, instead rolling his eyes and pulling through the gate, waiting until it closed to drive around to the back of the property where the Langford-Moore home was. Thankfully the community the townhouse was in had a large parking area for guests, so Shannon didn’t have to drive around aimlessly looking for a spot. Grabbing the bottle of bubbly he’d brought, he climbed out of the car and headed toward the house. The door was already open as he came up the steps, Taylor, Frank, and Caleb all crowded in the doorway, music and laughter filling the room behind them.
“I knew it was you because everyone else is already here.” Taylor responded to the question he’d asked a few minutes ago.
