Aftermath (12 page)

“Fat chance.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. At least something was normal, tonight. “The betting never gets old, does it?”

Jordan shrugged. Sent a sly smile toward his wife.

“So, we all know what Rupert
isn’t
doing. Max and Saragosa are over there.” He pointed toward the crowd on the dance floor. The two men were similar in age, height and build. Tall and muscular with sandy blonde hair. They worked well together. Often got teased about being twins, but Max was a little more straightforward. And Saragosa didn’t know how to embody seriousness. Even now, he leered toward one of the blondes to his right. Had probably cracked some line about a happy ending.

“Max probably has a chance with the redhead, but Saragosa’s gonna strike out.” McKenna sipped a clear, fizzy drink.

Sure enough, the redhead near Max was moving closer, a giant smile on her face. The two women by Saragosa seemed more interested in each other than the FBI agent in front of them.

Amanda should have stayed working. Or gone home. Faking lighthearted cheer wasn’t on her list of attributes tonight. And neither was stepping back and enjoying the moment.

The urgency to hightail it out of the bar climbed up her stomach and tried to wiggle out. Maybe Captain Dentzen had had a chance to review the file she’d put together on the girls. He’d changed his mind about letting her dig a little farther on precinct time and with their resources.

The bartender handed over a perspiring bottle, which Jordan passed to her. “It’s okay to take a break, Amanda.”

Working with friends had its benefits. And sometimes, like now, when keeping all the panic over the events of the day meant making it home without a scene, she wished they all had separate careers. “What are we celebrating?”

“Nothing.” Jordan sipped his beer, seriousness blanketing his face. “We can’t hang out with friends?”

“It doesn’t happen all that often anymore.” McKenna twirled the straw in her drink. “At least not outside of the house.”

Amanda eyed her friends. Their faces held some kind of starry-eyed giddiness. As if they had a secret no one else would understand.

“So, what’s with the ring?” Jordan nodded toward her left hand, wrapped around her beer.

Perfect.

His gaze flashed to something beyond Amanda for a second. Then came back.

“Nothing.” Amanda scanned the crowd. Didn’t see anything out of the norm.

McKenna folded one arm across her middle. “I suppose Robinson in your apartment this morning was nothing, too?”

No. Yes. She took a swallow of her drink. It soured her stomach on impact. “It’s—”

“Complicated.” Robinson’s warm voice floated over her. Jangled all the nerves in her system and stole her breath for a second. Even then, his spicy scent managed to fill her lungs as he came to stand next to her. His arm brushed hers. Sent something similar to the fizzy bubbles in McKenna’s drink, through her body on top of everything. She didn’t move, couldn’t if she tried.

Wanted to enjoy
this
moment. And forget everything else.

She eyed the clear concoction her friend sipped. The way she held it tighter than necessary. “What are you drinking?”

“Vodka tonic.” The answer was too quick. Eye contact nonexistent.

No, way. Not this woman. A fruity drink, sure. Not the harsh taste of straight alcohol with bland tonic. The other woman would be drunk after one. And it was half gone with not even a hint of tipsiness in sight. Maybe that’s what Jordan wanted. Maybe...

Beside her, Robinson watched the couple as if he knew something was off, but couldn’t pin down the exact details. That beautiful mouth was pulled downward in a frown. Worry filled his canvas-worthy eyes. And his face had a who’s-butt-am-I-kicking quality to it, instead of the jovial one worn by the people around them. Without looking in her direction, he stole her beer and took a healthy swallow.

Did he notice the slight swell of McKenna’s abdomen? That glow she had? Or Jordan’s silly grin, tucked almost out of sight. As if he were absurdly pleased with himself.

The items McKenna had purchased at the store popped into her mind. Sprite and crackers. Should have known. Except, her friend hadn’t had a speck of morning sickness with Riley.

“Since when do you drink Vodka tonic?”

Her best friend’s lips stilled over her straw. “Hmm?” Her eyes filled with innocence.

“It’s not alcohol, is it?” Robinson shifted forward and stole the other woman’s glass before she could protest. Sipped the contents. “Nope. You on some kind of new kick, Moore?”

“Try pregnant, Robbie.”

A hesitant smile lit Jordan’s face. And then he shot a glance at his wife. “Told you she’d figure it out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t like you were dying to hide the information, Mr. I-got-the-goods-to-knock-up-my-woman.”

Jordan chuckled. “Those words
never
came out of my mouth.”

“Congratulations.” Robinson’s eyebrows rose on his forehead and a small smile replaced his frown. His posture relaxed a tad. “I’m so happy for you guys.” He hugged both of his agents, then returned to Amanda’s side.

Handed back the half empty beverage. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.

Had he known she couldn’t finish it? Probably. He was always doing things like that. Subtle, but meaningful.

“Not everyone knows yet, so keep it quiet,” McKenna said. “We’re only twelve weeks along.”

“So, I shouldn’t blast it throughout the building Monday morning?” Robinson folded his arm across his chest.

Amanda bit back a snicker. He usually made good on his promises, too. To be a fly on the wall...

McKenna’s eyes turned to small slits. “Don’t even think about it, Robinson. Payback is well, you know.”

He laughed.

Amanda shifted, her arm coming into contact with Robinson, again. Their eyes met in a fleeting glance, which sent sparks straight to her stomach.

Yup. Should have gone home. Given her heart a chance to recover from their morning before tangoing with the Robinson magnet again.

Agent Saragosa headed toward them, sans a partner. He bumped into a couple on the dance floor. Righted himself and continued forward.

“Tough crowd, tonight.” He wrapped an arm around Jordan’s neck. They stumbled forward a step. Green eyes roved over them all, in a circular motion, as if the Agent’s world were spinning in his skull. The liquid in his glass sloshed near the edge. “I love you, man.” He pointed the cup in Jordan’s direction, a splash of alcohol careening to the floor.

“Please, tell me someone is driving him home.” Amanda stifled a laugh.

“Yeah,” Saragosa slurred. His gaze lit on McKenna. “Moore can drive me home and—”

“Think again, buddy.” Jordan removed the arm from around his neck.

The other man pursed his lips and nodded. “Fair enough. There’s more than enough meat around here.”

___

ROBINSON SHOULD HAVE gone home. Or stayed at the office.

Somewhere other than standing next to Amanda and watching an inebriated Saragosa stagger toward them. The agent’s eyes lingered on the stylish jacket the woman, next to Robinson, had thrown over her lacy top this morning. It accentuated her curves in a tasteful way. And Saragosa’s eyes roamed over it as if he had double X-ray vision.

Robinson blew a breath through his clenched teeth. Willed the swirling pit of revulsion, in his stomach, to stop. During their engagement, neither had been prone to bouts of extreme jealousy, possession or anything resembling either. He didn’t plan to start now, even though something similar gurgled to the top.

The guy was drunk. No need to make a big deal out of it. And with the way Saragosa wavered on his feet, he might pass out at any second. Saving them all a lot of trouble.

“Detective, you’ll drive me home, right?” A leering grin covered the other man’s face. Each sluggish step brought him closer.

Or not.

Relax, buddy.

He and Amanda had enough to talk about without adding a solid punch to Saragosa’s straight, white teeth to the list.

Bar fights with his agents weren’t his style. Not that he wouldn’t be willing to change things up if the other man crossed the line. Given the way he eyed her with more than appreciation, it seemed imminent.

“Try a taxi.” She crossed her arms. A gleam appeared in her scotch orbs. “You can grope yourself and throw up in a vehicle you’ll never see again. Win-win.”

Miss Sass was out in full force. Thank God.

Robinson’s muscles released a fraction. And he managed a slow breath filled with the exotic, flowery scent of Amanda.

Saragosa’s gaze centered on him, a little startled. “Oh, hey, boss-man.” A hiccup escaped his mouth. He blinked in slow motion. “Didn’t see you there. Didn’t mean to tread on your territory.” He waved in their general direction. “You had a fair shot. Now, it’s someone else’s turn, right?”

Damn it. Every muscle tightened again. He didn’t even try to listen to the voices in his skull telling him to shrug this off. Ire burst through his veins and burrowed down deep. “She’s not a bicycle you can take a spin on, Saragosa.”

He clenched his jaw. For the love of Pete. Really? He’d likened Amanda to a two-wheeled contraption a toddler could manage.

You’re a winner, tonight.

Amanda didn’t move. Didn’t even seem to breathe. He couldn’t blame her. The Jerk was trying to outdo Miss Sass with promise to leave dignity to a smarter man. That man said whatever he wanted without thought. Without care for consequences.

And for a long time, Robinson had worked really hard to get rid of him. Until Amanda. Until she’d embraced everything he was. Even things other people couldn’t stomach or didn’t understand.

With her, he was himself in a way he’d never been before. And The Jerk was a cute side character in the show. One everybody loved as long as he didn’t take over.

“Oh, come on, boss-man.” He stumbled, but righted himself before going down. “We’re all adults, here. The detective knows how to have a good time.”

Robinson couldn’t stop his body from going ramrod straight. “You wanna think about that statement, and its implications, a little?”

As if the words made no sense, a dumbfounded grin covered Saragosa’s face.

Jordan shot Robinson a look and gave one shake of his head. Then centered his attention on the drunken excuse for a man, beside him. “Okay, buddy.” He clapped the other man on the back. Hauled him forward and toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Luckily, Saragosa was too inebriated to protest.

Robinson blew out a breath. Amanda still hadn’t moved. Guilt swamped over him and rose like an unexpected storm surge. “A.J.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Robinson.” Her voice was flat and low. “He’s drunk. Probably won’t remember it in the morning.”

In the last year-and-a-half she’d asked him for that particular favor a handful of times. And now, twice in the same day. And only when bigger emotions hid beneath the surface. When it really mattered. Sometimes, levity worked well. Tonight...

Tonight, he wanted to have a normal conversation with the woman next to him. No pressure. No ghost of the past hanging over them.

A regular I-miss-my-best-friend sort of talk.

Agent Max joined their group, a redhead under one arm, his sobriety in check. He said something to McKenna, which Robinson didn’t comprehend. The expression on Amanda’s face mirrored the desire he had to stay here and pretend everything was fine.

Was she rehashing Saragosa’s comments, Robinson’s insensitive words or something else from the day? Could she shrug off this encounter as well as she did anything else?

“Wanna get out of here?” He whispered near her ear.

She licked her lips. Pretended to watch the interchange. Then she flicked him a sidelong glance. “What? You want your turn on the bicycle?”

“You know me better than that.” He’d need a lifetime. And a padlock with his initials carved into it. Maybe not a padlock. A tattoo. Something permanent, but not confining.

She folded her arms across her chest, a still half-full beer in one hand. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Would you have avoided coming if you’d known I might show up?”

“Yesterday?” She paused. Locked eyes with him. “Maybe.”

He’d always admired her honesty. “And today?”

“I’m here, right?” A teasing glint filled her eyes.

A burst of air left his lungs. “Can I be excused from bad behavior and poor word choices? Considering my day, I think it’s only fair.”

“Excuse granted.”

Her quick and honest forgiveness freed something heavy in his chest, leaving an ache behind. Erasing it meant getting her to open up to him, again, an event that wasn’t entirely in his hands.

“So, this escape you mentioned.”

“That’s not what I said, A.J.”

Amber eyes rolled heavenward. “Logistics.”

“We could forget I asked. You look like you’re having a blast.” He tucked his tongue in his cheek.