Page 55 of Hushed Guardian
Once she slides her pistol into her satchel and her phone into the pocket of her trousers, she shadows my solemn walk out of HQ. I kind of feel bad. If I had stopped jumping between our team’s investigation and the numerous personal ones I’m undertaking, perhaps I could have avoided this. I kissed Isabelle with the hope Isaac would react. It worked, and I can’t help but wonder just how effective it was. Jealousy is as potent as attraction when it’s handed to the wrong person.
The constant drone of tires rolling over asphalt filters into my ears when we step onto the sidewalk at the front of HQ. Isabelle squints when the midday sun breaks through the handful of high-rise buildings surrounding us before she curls her arms around my neck.
“Thanks for your help,” she whispers into my ear, her tone forlorn.
Understanding her struggle, I return her hug with just as much eagerness. “Fly under the radar, Izzy. Once I have any information, I’ll bring it straight to you.”
She sighs into my neck before inching back. “I will. And thank you again.” Her lips tug into a grin before she says, “See you around?”
I nudge her with my hip as she did to me earlier. “You’ll be back here filing before you know it.”
My jest has the effect I’m aiming for. She doesn’t smile a full-toothed grin, but it’s pretty darn close. “Don’t forget the coffees. God forbid Alex would have to fetch his own cup.”
She takes in my laugh for a few seconds before spinning on her heels and sauntering down the sidewalk. I keep my eyes locked on her back until she disappears around the corner, then just as quickly, I race to my car, firing off an email to Alex about how I got a stomach bug on my way.
26
BRANDON
W ith traffic shit, Phillipa is waiting for me outside of my apartment block when I pull into the loading bay fifty-five minutes later. She leaps up from the three stairs that lead into my overpriced crash pad before walking my way. “You’ll be towed within an hour if you park there.”
“Pay a tow fee of one hundred dollars or an exorbitant parking garage fee that’s almost three times that price.” I twist my lips. “I’m willing to take a risk.”
She laughs before rolling her eyes that are circled by dark rings. Even being on suspension hasn’t seen her catching up on sleep the past three nights. We usually talk until around two in the morning, then we’re back at it again before seven.
“Did you rewire the sliding door’s alarm before you left?”
Phillipa shadows me into the foyer of my building before shaking her head.
“Why not? I don’t know how things work for you IA agents, but you’re supposed to leave things as you find them when you’re out in the field.”
My mouth gapes when she whacks me in the gut. Melody used to do it all the time, but it seems odd coming from Phillipa. She seems too mature and anal about consequences to respond to a taunt with violence. “I didn’t need to rewire the alarm because I didn’t disarm it.”
I gesture for her to enter the elevator car before me while asking, “Then how did you get in?”
She waits for me to push the button for my floor before disclosing, “I put in the passcode.” When I peer at her in shocked awe, she frees me from being hooked by her awesomeness. “It’s Isabelle’s birthday.”
“That’s not right. I tried that combination when I reset it.”
When the elevator arrives at my floor, Phillipa exits first, smiling. “Not her actual birthday. The day she was reborn.” She pivots around to face me, her smile picking up. “The date referenced on the file that miraculously disappeared from Tobias’s records.”
“Who said there’s a missing file?” I realize I need to up my lying game when her brow arches in suspicion.
Grumbling, I shove my key into the lock and twist. A wolf-whistle vibrates between Phillipa’s O-formed mouth when she takes in the living area of my apartment. “Nice place. Have you lived here long?”
I toss my keys onto the entryway table before making my way to the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t work for Ravenshoe PD?”
She screws up her nose, my comment lost on her.
“Did you want something to drink?”
I hide my smile into the fridge when she replies, “Are you sure you want to walk down that path again, Agent James? You don’t have a ten-mile safety barrier between us this time around.”
The unconcealed sexual innuendo in her tone has my eyes darting between a bottle of water and an untouched bottle of wine. My deliberation barely lasts two seconds, but it still riddles me with guilt, which in turn, sours my mood. You can’t cheat on someone if you aren’t with them because they cheated on you.
Phillipa’s mood slips as well as mine when she spots the bottle of water in my hand. “It’s barely midday,” I say, issuing her the first excuse that pops into my head. “Have you eaten? I could order in some food?”
“Does pretzels and a teeny tiny, practically-not-worth-swallowing glass of soda the airlines hand out during flights count as eating?”
