Blood of Innocence (Sloan Skye) (5 page)

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Authors: Tami Dane

BOOK: Blood of Innocence (Sloan Skye)
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“We’ll drive our own cars.”
He shrugged. “If you insist.”
“I insist.” I gave him a warning glare. “And you’d better keep your word. This is a casual meal with a coworker. Nothing more.”
“You got it. Nothing more.”
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in a noisy restaurant, where model airplanes, piloted by birds, swooped and zoomed over our heads. All around us, clamoring children were happily munching on French fries and slurping shakes while their parents nagged them to eat their burgers.
Intimate, it was not.
Lesson learned—next time I would expect Gabe to take my suggestion in the most literal sense possible.
While we were waiting for our burgers and fries, we gobbled up yummy potato skins slathered in melted cheese and sour cream.
Gabe said, “Okay, now that I’ve got you here, and you’ve had a little bit to eat, I feel I need to confess something.”
The mouthful of potato, cheese, bacon, and sour cream suddenly felt a whole lot bigger as it slid down my throat. “What?” I croaked.
“I had an ulterior motive when I invited you out to dinner tonight.”
“Which was ... ?” I guzzled half my glass of cola while I waited for Gabe to admit why he’d asked me out to dinner. I hoped it wasn’t because of what he’d said last week, but I had a feeling it was.
“I wanted to get a chance to talk to you about Thomas.”
“What about him? I’ve already told you, it’s none of your business.”
“I know. And I’m sorry if it seems like I’m getting too pushy. But I overheard him talking to Hough yesterday and I felt you should know about it.”
I wasn’t going to ask.
I didn’t want to know.
No. Absolutely. Didn’t want to know.
Oh, hell.
“Okay, so tell me.”
We learn the rope of life by untying its knots.
—Jean Toomer
 
5
 
Gabe had stopped eating. He was looking at me with the kind of serious expression I rarely ever saw. I had no doubt he meant business. This time, he wasn’t overdramatizing.
“Okay. You got me. What were JT and Hough talking about yesterday?” I asked.
“I heard Hough say, ‘I need you. I can’t do this alone.’ And then Thomas said, ‘I’m here, Britt. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.’”
“That could be interpreted a million different ways.”
“Yeah. But the most obvious is ... ?” He gave me one of those you-know-what-I-mean looks. “They’re having an affair and she’s planning on leaving her lesbian wife.”
I gave him back a you’re-full-of-bunk look. “She’s happily married. And she and JT are just friends. Good friends.”
“Says who?”
I shifted in my seat. “JT.”
Gabe gave me a sure-right eyebrow lift. “And you believe him?”
“Yes, of course. He’s given me no reason to suspect him of lying.” This conversation needed to end.
“That you’re aware of. You haven’t known him long. All men lie. Sometimes.”
“Yet another generalization.
All
men?”
“It’s the truth. If you don’t believe it now, you will someday.”
“Which means you lie too, since you’re a man.”
“Sure. But I’m not lying now. Not about this.”
“Okay.”
The waiter brought our burgers and fries, asked if we needed anything else, then hustled away to serve his next table. While I ate, I mulled over what Gabe had told me.
Assuming he heard what he thought he’d heard, and it meant what he thought, it was a damn good thing I’d decided to keep JT at arm’s length. Yes, a damn good thing.
Now I was glad Gabe had picked this insanely noisy, chaotic place for our dinner. We ate, paid our tabs, and headed out to the parking lot.
I was about to make a clean getaway when Gabe grabbed my arm. We were standing in between two parked cars, midway between my car and his. It wasn’t quite dark yet. The sky to the west was purple, with some puffy salmon clouds. The east was already cloaked in deep indigo. Fireflies were flitting around us.
“Skye, I didn’t tell you about Thomas because I expect something to happen between you and me.”
I thought I understood what he meant by “something.” I nodded.
“You keep telling me you and he aren’t ... Well, anyway, I can tell you like him.” He released my arm. More softly he said, “I’ve seen the way you smile at him. The way you look at him.”
I didn’t respond right away. I wasn’t certain what to say. I mean, here he was—obnoxious, irritating Gabe—being so honest. Vulnerable. Looking into his eyes, I could see the spark of something. Sadness? Pain? I didn’t have the heart to brush off his feelings.
“Sure. You’re right. I do think he’s attractive. But the fact is you and I are interns. We have to be careful. How bad would it look if it got around that I was sleeping with him?” I sidestepped to a nearby light pole, leaned against the concrete base, and folded my arms over my chest. The wind was picking up, and it was actually getting a little chilly. “I guess I need to do a better job at setting aside my personal feelings and acting like a professional, if it’s as obvious as you say.”
“I’m not saying it’s obvious to everyone. Only to me. But that’s because you once smiled at me like that.”
Shit.
My phone rang.
“Um, sorry. I should check to see who it is.” I dug my phone out of my purse. The display was glowing but blank. Strange. I shrugged and slid it back into my purse. Then I looked up at Gabe.
“I should let you get going. It’s getting cold.” He glanced at the western sky. “And it looks like we’re in for some rain.”
“O-okay.” I still hadn’t responded to his last comment. I didn’t know what to say, honestly. This was beyond complicated. He was a nice-enough guy, when he wasn’t intentionally trying to antagonize me. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. On the other hand, I didn’t want him thinking I had any warm, fuzzy feelings for him. Because I didn’t. At least I didn’t have
a lot
of warm, fuzzy feelings for him. Maybe there was a little something there. A spark. But I was hell-bent on not traveling back down that road again. Once in a lifetime was enough for this girl. Besides, I technically still had one annoying and demanding would-be fiancé to contend with.
“See you tomorrow, Skye,” Gabe said, shooting me a smile.
“Yep.” I waved and then scurried to my car. I jumped in, buckled my belt, and then I just about peed my pants when someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Holy hell!” I screeched, jerking around.
Elmer. My so-called fiancé. “It’s just me.”
“I—I ...” Whatever I was about to say completely vanished from my mind.
Poof,
gone. I was rendered speechless as my gaze took in Elmer’s clothes. “W-what are you wearing?”
Elmer grimaced as he checked his nonreflection in the rearview mirror. (The
Sluagh
cast no reflection, like your typical Western European vampire.) “What’s wrong? Don’t you like my speed-dating look?”
I took in the goofy hat, the polyester shirt with the 1970s-style collar, and the really tacky vest on top of it before I responded. “It’s a lot of look. Where do you shop?”
“Salvation Army. I like their prices. And their selection.”
“I see.” I briefly considered his problem; then I made a decision. As much as I didn’t want to get Gabe or JT involved in this situation, I needed some help—or rather, I needed some decent clothes. “What time does the speed dating event start?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“Good.” I checked the clock. “We’ve got time.” I dug my phone out of my laptop bag. After a quick struggle, trying to decide which guy to call first, I dialed.
JT picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Skye.”
“Hi, JT. I need a favor.” I slid a sidelong glance at my companion and fought a shudder.
“Sure,” JT said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m on my way home.”
“Good. Um. Can I have your address?”
“Sure. It’s 626 West Elk Avenue, Unit 2.”
“Thanks.” I punched the address into my GPS. “I’ll be at your place in ten.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“I’ll explain when I get there.”
“Fair enough. See you in a few.”
Ten minutes later, Elmer and I were standing at JT’s front door. When JT opened it, he smiled at me; then he scrunched his eyebrows at Elmer.
“We need to borrow some clothes,” I explained, pointing at Elmer.
“Sure.” JT’s lips quirked. I could tell he was having a hard time holding back the guffaw. JT led us up to his bedroom. I marveled at his place as I followed. It was masculine. Clean. Contemporary. Very JT. His bedroom was nice. An enormous flat-screen TV hung on one wall. A ginormous bed was positioned against the opposite. Television. Bed. What more could a guy want in his room, right?
After shooting me an amused look, he motioned for Elmer to follow him. “This way. I’ll hook you up.”
I tested the chaise lounge facing the TV. I pointed the remote toward the television and was rewarded with the vision of a woman’s tight ass, bigger than life.
No question what JT had been doing the last time he’d watched television. I clicked to a more PG channel, finding a thriller movie about a forensic psychiatrist. As a general rule, I’m not much of a television watcher. I prefer reading. But I do love a well-written thriller, especially when it’s about the FBI.
I was just getting caught up in the story when JT came out of the walk-in closet.
“Whatcha watching?” he asked.
“Some movie about a forensic psychiatrist.”
“Ah, Pacino. Seen it. The killer’s his student, the lawyer.”
“Thanks,” I said flatly. I clicked the button, surfing the channels.
JT gently took the remote out of my hand, killed the TV, and then placed the remote on the table sitting off to one side. He made himself comfortable on the chaise; his butt was resting next to my hips. I felt my body stiffen slightly. His brows scrunched together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I forced a smile. “How much longer do you think Elmer will be?”
JT shrugged. “Don’t know. It isn’t easy finding clothes in my closet to fit him. He’s a foot shorter, and at least fifty pounds lighter.”
“Yeah, I knew it would be tough, but you saw what he was wearing. I wasn’t going out in public with him in that.”
“Where are you heading?” he asked casually.
“Speed dating.”
His neutral expression vanished for a split second. In a blink, it was back. “Speed dating, eh?”
“Sure. You remember, I need to find him a wife.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I told him I’d go along.”
“You’re not ... participating, then?”
I didn’t want to feel that little happy-heart flip-flop at the sound of jealousy in his voice. But I did. And that worried me. “Actually, I was thinking about it.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
His lips thinned. But he said nothing. Instead, he stood, grabbed the remote, and started clicking through channels. After burning through fifty channels, more or less, he powered off the TV and stared at me. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing the speed-dating thing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“People go to these things to meet people,” I told him.
“Well, of course, that much is obvious. But I thought ... We ...” He sighed and powered on the TV again.
He was really taking this news hard. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. That was not good.
“JT, we’ve talked about this before. You’re an agent. I’m an intern. It wouldn’t look good for either of us, if we were to start ... you know ...”
His jaw clenched. “I told you, the chief doesn’t give a damn about our personal lives.”
“But I care about my reputation. Remember, JT, the PBAU wasn’t my first choice of units. Maybe someday I want to move on. What would a bad reputation do for my chances?”
He seemed to be listening. At the very least, that little muscle along his jaw stopped popping out. He nodded.
“Besides,” I said, tossing out what Gabe had said before I could stop myself, “I’ve heard rumors you’re involved with someone else, anyway.”
There went that little muscle again. Two narrow, slitted eyes squinted at me. “Who told you that?”
“Are you denying it?”
“Who was it?” he snapped.
“Does it matter? Especially if it’s true?”
“It isn’t true. It’s a lie. Who am I supposedly screwing?”
“Hough.”
His face paled. He went back to hitting the button on the remote, but I had a feeling he wasn’t actually seeing what was displayed on the television.
“Well, are you still going to tell me it’s a lie?”
“She’s a lesbian,” he reminded me, still staring at the TV. “And she’s married.”
“So you said. But you and she were overheard having a very intimate conversation. How else am I supposed to take that?”
He clamped his lips together. His jaw flexed, but he didn’t respond.
So it was true.
My heart dove to my toes. Before I said or did something totally humiliating, I pushed off the chaise and raced from the room.
JT followed me. “Sloan!”
I actually sprinted down the stairs. He caught up to me just as I yanked open his front door. He reached over my shoulder, using his flattened hand to slam it shut. That left me trapped between the door and his bulky body.
“There’s nothing more to talk about,” I said to the door.
“Yes, there is.” He leaned closer, totally invading my personal-space bubble.
It was my turn to grit my teeth. “Stop being such an ass and let go, JT. This conversation is done. Over. Kaput. We’re coworkers. And maybe friends, if you let me leave with my pride intact.”
He moved his hand. “Fine. But ... it’s not what you think.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” I went out to the car and waited for Elmer. Thankfully, it took him a while. I needed the time to collect myself, which I did. After indulging in a brief pity party, I freshened up my makeup and fluffed my hair.

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