Admission by Kaithlin Shepherd

Brass #1

Kaithlin Shepherd

Admission Copyright Š 2015 by Kaithlin Shepherd All rights reserved. No part of this e-Book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

Admission is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For information contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing: contact@hottreepublisng.com Editing & Formatting: Hot Tree Editing Cover Designer: Claire Smith ISBN 13: 978-0-9944-079-2-4

Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.

Christopher Reeve

Prologue Savannah

In my line of work, you willingly put your life in danger, but it’s all ‘what ifs’ until you’re tied to a chair with chains around your body in an abandoned warehouse, a drug lord holding a gun to your head.

The last twenty-four hours are a blur as I try to focus on keeping myself calm, but the sting of the gunshots in my left thigh and right shoulder are making it hard. I never thought I would be here, at the end of a very narrow path I’ve led myself on. If I could kick myself right now for not listening to Noah, I would.

Thinking about Noah at the end of my story only seems appropriate since he’s on almost every page.

For the past eighteen years, Noah has been the only man I’ve ever really loved, the one man I thought I could never have. I would give anything to go back and do things differently to try and show him how I really feel, tell him I love him one time. That has to

be one of my biggest regrets as I stare death in the face.

Looking Matias in the eyes, it’s clear I made the wrong choice agreeing to meet him. At the very least, I should have told Noah or Eric. Reading about this man’s criminal activities and sociopathic tendencies hasn’t prepared me one bit for the coldness in his eyes. I’ve never been one to think about death, but right now, it seems appropriate for me to come to terms with that reality. There is no way Matias is letting me walk out of here alive.

He’s had me captive for more than twenty-four hours and no one has come for me yet. As much as I want to hope for a rescue, I know that’s an unrealistic thought at this point.

“Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong only gets you in trouble, Miss Walker. We warned you, but you didn’t listen, and now you’ve put us in a delicate position of having to make an Assistant US Attorney disappear. I hate the mess that a pretty little thing like you makes when we start cutting you in pieces.” Matias is surrounded by his top lieutenants—Diego, Pablo, and Miguel—who all have the same lust for blood in their eyes. I’m not one to be easily intimidated by men, but looking at the four of them, I pray they kill me fast, even though I know they won’t.

Reasoning with them serves no purpose, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go down without putting the fear of the DEA and the US Attorney’s office in them.

“Killing me is not going to make the case go away.

I’m not the only Assistant US Attorney who has what it takes to bring you to justice. You should know that by now. They won’t stop until they get you, Matias.”

“I’m sure sending your body parts to your colleagues will convince them to drop the case, Miss Walker.” Telling him that doing so will only reinforce their desire for blood won’t make him deviate from his plan, and if I’m going to die at the hands of a drug cartel, I’m at least going to do everything I can to make sure Annabelle has enough to convict them for my murder.

“The DEA won’t stop going after you because you kill one Assistant US Attorney. I can be easily replaced.”

He ignores my words. “Perra, if you think that DEA man of yours is going to save you, you’ll be disappointed. No one is coming to save you. My face is the last thing you’ll see in this life. Maybe I should show you how a real man fucks before I put a bullet in your head.”

I’ve lost faith that Noah and Connor are going to find me. I had just hoped to get the chance to tell them I didn’t blame them before Matias killed me.

But that isn’t going to happen. “I doubt you have what it takes to show me how a real man does it.”

“Pinche puta.”

“Pendejo.” When I hear the safety of the gun kick off, I know this is it. I wish I could tell Kennedy that she’s stronger than she believes and that she’ll get through this. I wish I could tell Zoe to stop playing around with her feelings for Logan because life is too short. I wish I could tell Annabelle to get these sons of bitches. I wish I could tell Blake that his past doesn’t shape his future and he deserves to be happy. I wish I could tell Logan that he’s got a heart of gold. And I wish I could tell Noah that I love him.

I close my eyes when Matias takes a few steps and the cold metal of the gun is pressed against my forehead. Before he can pull the trigger, smoke fills the warehouse, and windows are breaking. When I open my eyes, I see Noah and Connor in front of me, and I can’t stop the tears from falling.

Matias is behind me in seconds, holding the gun once more to my temple. I can hear him shouting out at Noah and Connor, but his words don’t

register. I fight my primal urges to kick and scream.

I zero in on Noah’s voice telling me to stay calm and to focus on my breathing. I close my eyes and picture myself in a training session with Noah and Connor. I concentrate on keeping my body alert but with outward calm. When I open my eyes again, I only see Connor, but I know Noah isn’t far away.

Connor’s voice is steady as he talks to me.

“Savannah, do you remember that summer at the lake when you turned twenty-one? I need you to think back to that summer with me and Noah. Can you do that for me?” The gun presses down harder when Connor speaks, but I refuse to let my fear override me. All it will take is a split second for this to be over. One gentle pull of the trigger and I’ll be dead.

I blink slowly, indicating I know exactly what he wants me to do. Matias is still shouting and screaming at Connor and Noah. I can only hope he’s so distracted that he won’t see my movement. I twist my arms, making fists with my hands, holding back the yell of pain from the chains digging into my skin. With one last deep calming breath, I press down with my left foot, and swing my whole body to the right, screaming when the chains rip my skin open. When I fall to the floor, I hear a gunshot and another, and I can’t stop crying. Noah is kneeling in

front of me in seconds, and when I look at his face, I know it’s over.

“Noah… please, get me out of here.”

“I got you, baby. I got you. Connor, she needs a medic.” I watch him removing the chains and carefully hauling me out of the chair and into his arms. When his strength surrounds me, my entire body starts shaking and I can’t stop. “It’s over, Savannah. I got you. It’s over, baby.”

“I…I can’t. Noah, I….”

Noah screaming for a medic is the last thing I hear before my whole world goes black.

Chapter One 3 months ago Savannah

Summer in New York City is my favorite time of year. I love the smell of flowers as I walk through Central Park, the sound of the water during my morning run, and the weekends spent at the lake house. We don’t get the chance to do these weekends as often as we used to since our careers have made us slaves to our offices, but once a month, we all gather up at Kennedy and Noah’s lake house in Maine and pretend we don’t have a care in the world.

Usually, I’m the first one with a cold beer in my hand, trying to forget the past month spent working twenty hours a day, seven days a week. However, I find myself being the odd one out today, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Kennedy, Zoe, Annabelle, and I have been best friends for eighteen years, and there is not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful

to have them in my life. We escaped the jungle that is high school as a group and made it through NYU Law School together, forging a bond that goes beyond the average bond most friendships are based on.

All throughout high school and law school, girls have always been jealous of the four of us for having four of the hottest men in the state as best friends. Sitting in my lounge chair with a beer in my hand, looking at Noah, Logan, Blake, and Connor shirtless in the pool, I can truly understand why.

Individually, they are gorgeous, but put them together and they have the power to give women heart attacks.

Logan is the dark and mysterious type with longish black hair and deep green eyes, the body of a Greek god and a chest covered in tattoos. Blake is the quiet type, but don’t let that fool you—the man is trouble with a capital T. He has blond hair and blue eyes, full sleeves on both arms and a beard that gives him the edge that makes women drop their panties with a wink. Connor is the ultimate bad boy with a soft side, but his brown hair, full beard, and green eyes give him a tough exterior, supported by the ink covering his right arm and left leg.

Then there’s Noah. The man is a pure sex god on two legs. With his longish blond hair, full beard, blue eyes, and tattoos on his arms, hands, and chest, he’s my every fantasy. The only problem with that scenario is that he’s my best friend’s brother, and to him, I’m just his little sister’s best friend.

Over the years, I’ve managed to keep it together and not make a fool of myself around him.

However, that all changed a week ago when my boss at the US Attorney's Office assigned me to work with the DEA task force. Noah is leading it against a drug cartel in Colombia who are smuggling drugs into the US. In the last week, I’ve spent more time with Noah than I have in the last eighteen years, which is the only explanation as to why I’m avoiding him this weekend. The upside to this development at the office is I get to work with Annabelle, who is also an Assistant US Attorney, and Connor, who is on the same task force as Noah.

Watching them bicker offers some entertainment and a much needed distraction from working side by side with Noah, but it doesn’t make fighting my feelings for him any easier. Refusing to take this case would kill my career, though, leaving me with no other choice. Every other case we’ve worked on together was different, but now that he’s lead on this case, it changes everything.

“What’s up with you lately? You’ve been strange all week.” Kennedy is probably the most observant person I know, so hoping I could get away with being distant all week was a short-lived dream. It’s one of the reasons why I love her; she doesn’t hold anything back, except maybe the acceptance of her feelings for Connor, but that’s another issue she’s gladly been avoiding for years. Kennedy is one of those women who is just naturally beautiful. Her long, blonde hair, blue eyes, and slender body make her look like a supermodel, but don’t let that fool you into thinking she doesn’t have the brains to back it up. Just like me, she’s one of the youngest appointees to the US Attorney's Office, and she is one of the brightest legal minds of our generation.

I take a sip of my beer, adjusting my sunglasses, while hoping I can avoid this conversation altogether. “Nothing is up with me. I’m just tired from working on this new case.” Which technically isn’t a lie. Noah and I have been sleeping at the office for the past week, only getting a few hours of sleep at most over the last seven days.

“The cartel case you’re working with my brother?” When she sits down on the chair next to mine, I know she’s determined to have this conversation today. The thing about being in love with my best friend’s brother is that I can’t hide

anything from her. My feelings for Noah aren’t a secret to the girls, and I’d even bet the guys know.

That doesn’t mean I want to talk about something I’ll never have, but they don’t seem to understand that.

“The one and only.” My eyes drift to the pool where Noah is currently making my mouth water, with the sun and water dripping off his chest. Why couldn’t he just keep his shirt on?

Kennedy laughs beside me, telling me she knows exactly what I’m thinking about. Of course she would, because Connor is standing right beside Noah in the pool, also shirtless and looking like a gift to women. “How are you handling that?” Her voice is filled with understanding for the situation.

“Handling what? The case?” I try to make my voice sound as steady as possible, but I’ve never been one with the ability to lie to my friends or deflect a conversation.

“No, smart-ass, handling working with Noah.”

“It’s great. Noah is great.” Again, not a lie. Noah is one of the best DEA agents and one of the youngest agents ever to lead a task force against a drug cartel. He’s smart, cautious, and diligent, and he knows when to take calculated risks. He’s protective and controlling, making him the perfect

leader, even if he doesn’t always think he’s cut out for the job.

“Your left eye twitches when you lie, Savannah Walker.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, Kennedy. Just drop it, all right?” This is the last thing I want to talk about today. It’s the reason why I’m scrunched in my little corner, trying to hide from the world, which obviously I need to learn to do better because she is not giving up.

“I don’t get why you just don’t tell Noah.”

Well, there’s a million reasons why I will never tell Noah that I’m in love with him. First, he’s one of my best friends and taking a chance that could ruin that is not going to happen. Second, I work with him on multiple cases and that’s not likely to change any time soon, so admitting my feelings to him could impair our working relationship, which is not an incentive. Third, guys like Noah don’t date women like me. Unlike Kennedy, Zoe, and Annabelle, I’m not a size 6. My size 10 is not the best option to attract a man like Noah. Before I can answer Kennedy, though, I feel water dripping down my back, and when I feel his hands on my shoulders, I’m pretty sure my glare could kill Kennedy if I wanted it to.

“Tell me what?” His voice sends shivers down my spine every time, and when I feel his fingers tightening on my shoulders, I know he didn’t miss my body’s reaction to his voice. I want to kick myself for letting him have that much power over me. When his hands leave my skin, I hold back a moan of frustration at the lack of contact. However, when he sits down beside Kennedy, in front of me, I have to focus on keeping my breathing even because I just want to straddle him and ride him into oblivion. When Kennedy coughs, I realize I’ve been staring at him, but haven’t answered him yet.

“Nothing. Nothing to tell you. We were just talking about how nice it is that we get to work together on this cartel case.”

He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling him the truth or not, but his wicked smile tells me everything. He knows I’m lying.

“You know you can’t lie to me for shit, Savannah, so how about you try that answer again?”

I hate that he knows me so well—eighteen years of friendship will do that. I lean back in my chair, hoping I can convince him to not push this further.

“What? I’m not…. That’s what we were talking about.”

He runs his hand through his hair and gives me that trademark Noah Johnson smile, one that melts my panties every single time. “I’m gonna let that one slide, for now.”

“Let what slide?” One thing about Connor is he always seems to show up in conversations at the wrong time, and apparently today is not an exception to the rule. The good thing is I’m no longer the only one squirming in her seat, if Annabelle’s lust-filled eyes are any indication.

Connor hands a beer to Noah and something passes between the two of them. They’ve always had that uncanny ability to communicate without talking, which is probably one of the reasons why they’re great partners. “Whatever’s got Savannah here squirming in her chair.”

The humor in his voice makes me want to throw a tantrum. He takes pride in knowing me better than I probably do. If I could wipe that smirk off his face, I would do it in a heartbeat, but the truth of the matter is I can never take his satisfaction away. But that doesn’t mean I have to give into his every indulgence. “I am not squirming.”

“Only one reason I know that makes her do that.”

The second the words slip past her lips, Kennedy is chuckling like a five-year-old.

My head spins, and if looks could kill, she would be dead right now. I try to tell myself that it’s the overhaul of beer she’s had today that’s making her so loose, but so help me, God, if she spills even one little hint about my feelings for Noah, I will have to hurt her. “Kennedy, shut up.” I make sure my voice is stern, leaving her no room to misinterpret the consequences if she says one more word.

Noah glances between Kennedy and me with a look of delight at his sister’s words. Logan and Blake have joined us by the chairs, making it obvious they know exactly what Kennedy is talking about, and I can’t help but wonder if Noah does, too. He can’t know, can he? If he knew, he would have said something by now, right?

He leans back on his elbows, putting his abs on display, and my eyes are glued to his body. When he catches me looking at him like he’s dinner and I’m starving, he laughs and winks at me before turning back to his sister. “Oh, no. Go on, sis, elaborate.”

I jump to my feet in front of Kennedy, my hands on my hips. When Logan whistles, I remember I’m wearing a two-piece—which none of the guys have ever seen me in—and that I haven’t slipped my cover-up on. When I hear Noah groan, I have to fight the urge to turn around and see what is making

him lose his cool like that. I can’t though, because turning around right now would mean giving me away. “Kennedy, remember that if you open your mouth on this, I’ll do the same.”

Annabelle and Zoe are laughing at the scenario unfolding, and when I glance their way, they give me their best sympathetic look.

“You wouldn’t.” Her eyes lock in on Logan and I see the panic rising in her face. She would never take the chance that I would spill what I know, especially not in front of Noah.

“Try me.” I shift on my feet, realizing how harsh that sounded.

“Sorry, bro, but she’s got too much ammunition for me to spill.”

When I turn to face Noah, I can see a battle of wills in his eyes. The intensity should scare me, but I know he would never purposely hurt me or push a situation past its limits. I force my body to relax, but when he rises from his chair and grabs my hand, my breathing becomes fast and uncontrolled as he walks us toward the house. “You and I are gonna talk.”

Noah

You would think a thirty-three-year-old man would be able to control basic urges around a woman, but when it comes to Savannah, I have increasingly little control over my actions. She makes me feel like a lust-filled teenager. I’ve known her since she was twelve years old, and wanting her underneath me screaming my name should make me feel like a dirty old man. But she’s thirty now, and fuck if she isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

This past week, I’ve spent more time with her than what’s normal for us, especially since she’s been avoiding me lately. When my boss at the DEA put me in charge of a new task force and told me our Assistant US Attorney would be Savannah, I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. She’s always been happy and carefree, but working with her every day this week, day in, day out, I’ve noticed she’s pulled back, locking a part of herself away where I can’t reach her. At first, I thought I was overreacting, but when Connor said the same thing, I knew there was a problem. I didn’t push it, though. Watching her so closely and catching her look at me with those lust-filled brown eyes, I knew

something was up with her, and I can’t let that go.

I’m not built that way.

My sister thinks I’m the biggest idiot on the face of this earth for not seeing through Savannah’s tough act when she’s around me, but what she doesn’t realize is I know exactly how Savannah feels about me. I fight it with everything I have because a man like me, with needs like mine, has nothing to offer a woman like her. I have issues that run deeper than most people’s, but that’s part of who I am, and I made myself a promise a long time ago that I would never drag Savannah into that darker side of me. So I fight my attraction to her, my feelings for her, even knowing she feels the same way. Even though I know it’s killing her inside because, sooner or later, she’ll let me go.

She’ll find a nice guy who’ll give her what she needs, but that man isn’t me, no matter how badly I want it to be.

But it’s like an addiction. I can’t stop wanting her. Kennedy might have pushed some hot buttons outside with her little display of knowledge, but when I saw Savannah’s eyes filled with desire when she looked at me, something snapped inside me. I can’t deny myself any longer, and she can’t fight me forever. When I saw her in that two-piece, rocking those mouth-watering curves that make my cock

rock-hard every time I see them, I lost control. Her face right now is masked with confusion, and when most men would want to clear up any misgivings, I take pride in the fact that I’m the only man who can bring her to this state of urgency and unbalance.

“What are you doing, Noah?” Her voice is shaky, and while I know that even my best smile isn’t going to help calm her nerves, I know what will and I’m not afraid to use it.

“Sit down, Savannah.” If there’s one thing you get to master when you’ve known someone for eighteen years, it’s to read that person’s body language and observe their response to different scenarios. Savannah craves someone to take control, to take away her choice of closing herself down to what life has to offer. Someone who will show her that giving control to a man in the bedroom is liberating. A lot of people think men like me are what is wrong with society, that all controlling men are assholes who don’t respect women, but that’s the complete opposite of the truth. I would give my life to protect a woman, especially the one sitting in front of me, but being in control of a woman’s pleasure is a gift I treasure, and I respect that more than life itself. When a woman like Savannah—a professional, smart, headstrong woman—gives you

her complete trust, just like she’s dying to do right now, that’s the most precious gift in the world.

“What did you wanna talk about?” She’s mellowed a little since sitting down, which reinforces my dominant nature.

“Let’s start with why you’ve been cold with me this week.” There’s an unruliness in my voice, and I don’t try to hide it. She knows she doesn’t have the ability to lie to me, even though it doesn’t stop her from trying when she thinks I’m getting too close.

I see the shock of the question register on her face. She takes a deep breath before answering me, and I know I’m right on the money about what happened this week. “What? I haven’t been cold.”

“Yes, you have. You had your professional wall up all week around me, and I wanna know why.”

“We were working, Noah; that would be why.”

She’s trying hard to make it sound as simple as the words she’s giving me, but I can see past her, past the walls she’s building up right now. Walls that I’m gonna take pride in knocking down time after time.

Watching her before me, I know I’ll never be able to let her go, never be able to watch her with another man. She’s mine. She’s always been mine.

“Don’t bullshit me, Savannah. We’ve worked

dozens of cases together, and you’ve never once acted like that with me, so I wanna know what changed.”

“Nothing changed, Noah. I was just tired this week. I didn’t expect another big case this soon.

That’s all.”

The way she’s biting her lower lip and avoiding looking at me makes me feel like an asshole for pushing her like I am, but I don’t have it in me to stop. “You’re lying to me. Why?” “Noah, please.” She’s begging me to drop it, her voice breaking as it echoes through the empty dining room.

“Tell me why you’re lying to me, Savannah. This is not who we are. We don’t lie to each other.” I reach for her hands, but she tucks them away before I can grasp them.

“I can’t tell you, Noah. Please understand that.”

She’s pleading by this point, but I can’t let it go, not anymore.

“You can’t tell me? Since when can’t you talk to me?”

“Noah, just drop it, okay?”

“I will not fucking drop it, Savannah. Not until that pretty little mouth of yours tells me what I want to hear.” Her whole body is shaking and I feel my heart breaking. I’m the one responsible for putting her in this vulnerable position, and I’ll never forget the look in her eyes right now—the one that’s telling me she wants what I’m trying to get out of her but is scared to give it to me. In a matter of seconds, I see the change in her. She’s managed to lock down her feelings, and it’s pissing me off that she won’t let me in, won’t let me be what she needs.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” The screeching of the chair on the floor as she pulls back from me is a noise that hits hard. It tells me there’s no longer a wall that’s guarding her heart—it’s a fortress.

“Savannah.” Letting her walk out that door is so hard. It goes against every instinct I have, but I can’t force it on her—not yet, anyway. But if she thinks she can walk away from what we have, could have, she has another thing coming.

Savannah

It’s close to dinner time before I’m able to regain my senses after what happened between me and Noah earlier. I’m still not sure what got into him or what his intentions were when he decided to start pushing a subject matter we both knew was going to lead nowhere. I’ve been hiding in my bedroom for hours now, and judging by the lack of interruptions to my quiet time, I’m guessing no one wants to be on the receiving end of my bad mood.

I can’t remember Noah ever acting that possessive or controlling since I’ve known him.

Over the years, I’ve heard about Noah’s tendencies in the bedroom, but today marks the first time I’ve ever witnessed it for myself. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen or experienced in my life, but that doesn’t change anything.

“Can I come in?” Kennedy’s voice from the door pulls me out of my thoughts of Noah’s dominant nature. I never use the word ‘hate’—I’ve always believed the word aligns itself with too much resentment, too much anger that can cloud your perception of things—but what she did today is not something I’ll forget any time soon.

“Why did you do that? You know I can’t tell him, so why would you put me in that situation, Ken?”

I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s sorry about what happened, but I know deep down she really isn’t. She’s been on me for years about telling Noah how I feel, but no matter how much she wants that, it doesn’t justify what she did today. “Honey, you have to tell him. If you would just give him a chance, you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

“No, I would be heartbroken, Kennedy, and I couldn’t handle losing my friends over saying something stupid to Noah.”

She takes a seat on the bed, hands on her thighs, watching me closely as I speak. It always makes me nervous when she does that because it means she has a plan, and that is never a good thing. “Your feelings for Noah are not stupid, Savannah. When are you going to see that if you give him a chance, he’ll be everything you need?”

I have to laugh at that statement because there is no way it will ever be the case. “When did you get so delusional? Noah’s never going to see me like that, so why would I risk everything by telling him I’m in love with him?”

I watch her eyes go wide and it hits me that I’ve just admitted I’m in love with Noah. In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve never actually spoken the words.

“Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve actually said that out loud? Did the world stop turning because you admitted you’re in love with him? No, it didn’t, Savannah.”

“It’s not that simple.” I hate that she’s right and that her point is valid. That’s the thing about having best friends who are also attorneys; they make valid points and their arguments can never be refuted. It’s annoying as hell when you’re trying to hide from what they’re determined to have you admit.

“You’re the one who’s making this more complicated than it needs to be. You’re finding reasons not to tell Noah you’re in love with him, but how about you start finding reasons to tell him?”

I can’t do this with her, not tonight—not after Noah left me so vulnerable. “I’m not doing this with you. Tell everyone I’m not feeling that great and I went to bed.”

“Savannah—” “Just go, Kennedy.” I slam the door after her, wishing there was something I could hit to try and get some of the tension out of my body.

Noah

I’ve been on edge since my failed intervention with Savannah, and to make things worse, she’s been locked in her bedroom since then. The last thing I wanted to do by confronting her was make her uncomfortable, but I just had to do it. Kennedy’s been gone for close to half an hour by the time she comes back, and judging by the look of defeat on her face, I’m guessing it didn’t go according to her plan. My sister can be one of the most persistent people I know, but Savannah is stubborn as hell.

“Where’s Savannah?” I want to interrogate her about what happened, but I know my sister better than to push. She sits down beside Logan and I want to laugh at both of them for trying to act innocent, like I don’t know what’s going on between them.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she went to bed.”

She shrugs off the comment like it isn’t a big deal, but I don’t believe it for a second.

My first reaction is to panic, but Kennedy’s body is relaxed, making me reel in my protective instincts, no matter how badly I want to haul my ass to Savannah’s bedroom and take care of her. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine. So, Annabelle, how is it working with Connor and Noah?” A classic Kennedy move, changing the subject of a conversation she knows is going to piss me off. I smile because that’s something I taught her.

Annabelle is one of the best Assistant US Attorneys I know. Put her and Savannah in a room and you’ve got yourself a killer package, which can put the hardest criminals in jail for a long time. But when you look at both of them, you would never know they were best friends. Annabelle has a dark edge to her that scares most people, unlike Savannah who draws people in like a pot of honey.

Annabelle’s red hair and green eyes are a sharp contrast to Savannah’s dark brown hair and brown eyes, but what sets Annabelle apart is the ink she bares when she takes off her suit. “Not too bad.

Probably because Savannah handles them both like no one else could.”

“Hey, now, no one handles me.” Connor couldn’t be handled even if he wanted to. I’ve known him since second grade, and if there’s one person who can get away with pretty much anything, it’s him.

But Annabelle’s right. Savannah handles him without making him think she’s doing it. That’s her little secret to handling Connor Evans.

“Evans, don’t be a jackass.” Watching Annabelle and Connor is like watching a bunch of ten-yearolds fighting over whose dad is the strongest. It’s a match of wills, and I’m never really sure who wins.

“Okay, so maybe Savannah is a hard-ass who keeps us in check. Have you seen her in the zone?

She’s intimidating.” ‘Intimidating’ isn’t the word I would use to describe Savannah when she gets focused—‘sexy’ is more like it. Watching her study caseloads and precedence is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen, her hair pulled back and her glasses making her look like a wet dream.

“Oh, man, I remember that case me and Logan worked with her. I wouldn’t say she’s intimidating as much as she’s sexy as hell when she’s doing her thing. What do you think, Noah?” Blake is lucky to still be breathing, that’s what I think. Hearing anyone else call Savannah sexy makes me want to grab my gun and shoot them, even if it’s Blake.

Blake and Logan both work for the NYPD, and I’ve known them for twenty years, but if one of them even thought about touching Savannah, I wouldn’t hesitate to cause them physical harm. “I think if I ever hear the words ‘Savannah’ and ‘sexy’ coming out of your mouth again, I’m going to have to hurt you, Blake.”

“You don’t agree?” Blake and his smart-ass mouth, pushing my buttons.

“Fuck yes, I agree. She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

“So, it’s okay for you to say that, but not for us?”

Now you’re catching on, Blake. You’re not allowed to talk about her that way; hell, you’re not even allowed to think about her that way. Wait, what’s happening to me? “Damn straight.”

“Ever thought that maybe you should tell her, brother dearest?” The glint in my sister’s eyes is one I’ve seen many times before. It’s a look that says ‘I’ve been waiting for you to slip up, and, brother, did you ever just slip up.’

I have no choice but to try and play coy. “Tell her what?”

“That she’s yours.”

“I’m not what she needs.” If I’ve spoken a truth in my life, it’s this. My life is one of the most complicated and dangerous lifestyles in the world. A DEA agent who does frequent undercover work and has dominant needs in the bedroom is not someone Savannah needs, neither in her life nor in her bed.

“You’re my brother, Noah, and I love you, but you can be so fucking stupid sometimes.”

“You know she’s probably working right now, right? She’s been so locked down this week, it was almost like she wasn’t herself.” Leave it to Connor to be the voice of reason, trying to get me to focus on my need to protect her, to keep her safe. When I look at him, the asshole is smiling ear to ear.

“She went in protection mode, Connor.”

Kennedy’s comments bring me back to the conversation. Protection mode? What does she mean by that?

“From us?” The apprehension in Connor’s voice is palpable, and I can relate to whatever he’s thinking. Why would she need to defend herself?

“From Noah.”

That hits me like a brick wall. She’s been guarding herself from me and I missed it. How the hell did I miss her shielding herself? “Why would she need protection from me?”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

And ask her is exactly what I plan on doing.

Whatever she feels she needs protection from me for is not something I can let her continue to consider. I may not be what she needs, but she’s

exactly what I need, and if it means fighting my urges, I’d do it for her.

Savannah

I’m surprised by how long it takes one of them to make their way to my room to check up on me.

Staying in my room seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m neck-deep in work with a migraine that won’t quit, making me regret not going down for the bonfire. I’m surprised this migraine hasn’t made an appearance sooner, because this past week has put me in a constant state of emotional awareness and high-levels of stress.

“Working instead of enjoying the bonfire, huh?

I’m gonna start thinking you’re avoiding us.” I look up from my laptop when I hear Noah’s voice coming from the doorway. I don’t know how he manages to always look like he just walked off the pages of GQ Magazine. He changed into dark blue jeans that are hugging his strong thighs and a longsleeve shirt; he doesn’t even have to show skin to make my heart beat faster.

By the smirk on his face, I know he’s enjoying catching me ogling him. I close my laptop and put it on the bedside table. “I had a headache, so I thought I would lie down for a while. But then I couldn’t get my brain to stop working long enough to nap, so I opted to get some work done.”

“You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” I watch him as he takes a seat on the bed next to me, his eyes filled with concern and empathy.

Yeah, that’s not going to happen, considering Noah is the only thing that comes to mind. My migraine has grown worse in the last hour or so, and all I want to do is curl into a ball and go to sleep.

My fingers have a mind of their own and start massaging my temples, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building in my skull. “Not really. I’m fine, Noah. Go enjoy the rest of the night.”

“What If I want to enjoy it here with you?” He grabs my hands, pulling them away from my temples and he rubs circles, pressing down on the pressure point between my index finger and thumb.

He alleviates some of the blinding pain.

“I’m not the best company right now.” With the muscle aches and pressure building in my skull, that’s probably the most honest thing I’ve said to him today. I hate that I’m lying to him, but what

else can I do? It’s not as easy as he seems to make it. Being honest with him about my feelings could change everything for the best, yes, but there’s a chance it could change everything for the worst, and I don’t think I could live with the guilt of ruining our friendship.

“Migraine?” My migraines are something Noah is used to. I’ve had them for years, and he’s seen his share of my worst moments where I can’t move or talk. The thing about Noah is that he’s always there when I seem to need him. I don’t want to need him, or for him to take care of me, but it’s almost like he has an internal radar connected to my body that alerts him when I’m sick.

“Yeah.... It’s been a long week, and it’s catching up to me.”

The next thing I know, Noah takes off his shirt and my mouth drops open. He leans over me and, God, he smells so good—a mixture of firewood, ocean, and musk. I breathe him in as he moves the pillows behind me to the other side of the bed. He climbs into bed behind me and I can feel his body heat surround me. It’s crazy how something so simple could make me relax, but he knows exactly what to do.

His hands grab my waist and haul me back against him. He slips one arm around my stomach and the other around my shoulders. “Lean on me.”

His voice is coarse and tough, but I do as he asks.

“What are you doing?” My shaky voice is giving me away, but being close to him like this feels so good that I’m not sure I care.

“Taking care of you.” His hand is stroking the tension away in my shoulders and neck, and I sigh and moan at how good it feels.

“I don’t need you taking care of me, Noah.” I object to needing him, but my body’s sinking into his, the tension rolling off my muscles. No matter how much I try to convince him with my words that I don’t need him, my body is singing a different tune.

I feel his breath on my neck and it sends shivers down my skin. Oh, God, he feels so good. “Yes, you do. Now lean back, close your eyes and relax.”

“Noah….” I don’t know if I’m begging him to keep going or to stop.

When my head falls back on his bare chest, I feel his heartbeat and breathing speed up, but he never stops touching me. “Why are you protecting yourself from me?”

“It’s complicated.” My defenses are breaking down with each touch of his fingers on my skin, with every tremor his hands create. I know if we keep doing this, I’ll tell him everything he wants to hear. I should stop him. I should make him leave, but I don’t have the strength to do anything else but lie in his arms and let his warmth surround me.

“Talk to me, Savannah.”

“Working with you is never easy for me.” I can’t stop the words from escaping my mouth, and I regret them the minute they fill the room with silence.

“Do I make it harder for you to do your job?”

When I hear the concern in his voice, I want to reassure him that I didn’t mean it in the way he’s thinking.

Working with Noah on a professional level makes everything easier, but on a personal level, everything’s more difficult. “Not in the sense that you’re thinking.”

He stays silent for a while, as if he’s trying to process the information I just gave him. “Explain it to me,” he finally says in a tone that makes it clear it’s not a suggestion, as if I hold all the answers in my hands.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Noah. Eighteen years already, and I want you in my life for the next twenty, so please don’t push this any further.” I shake my head, trying to control the wave of emotions that has taken over my body, obviously clouding my judgment and disarming my filter.

“Say the words, Savannah. Just say them, please.”

“I’m in—” My phone’s ringing, coming from the bedside table, pulls me out of my trance. What am I doing? I almost told him I was in love with him. Oh, God, this is crazy. I reach over for my phone, and when I see my boss’ name on the screen, I more than welcome anything work-related to keep my mind off how good Noah’s body feels against mine and how his hands are setting my skin on fire.

“Savannah Walker…. Yes, sir…. I’m a few hours out of the city, but I’ll be there as soon as I can….

Yes, sir, I understand.”

“I have to go back to the city,” I tell Noah, climbing off the bed to pack my weekend bag.

“Savannah.”

I brace my hands on the doorframe when my name rolls off his lips, but I know if I turn back now, I’ll give myself away. So I keep walking until I reach my car.

Chapter Two Savannah

After going home to change, I head into the office, well aware that whatever the reason is for my boss calling me on a Saturday, it means I’m not about to go home anytime soon. I love my job, and being an Assistant US Attorney before turning thirty is a privilege; one that comes with long days and short nights fueled by caffeine and take-out food.

It’s past 2 a.m. by the time I step off the elevator, and I’m surprised to see that I’m one of the few people in the office. I grab a coffee from the kitchen before going for the lion’s den that is my boss’ office. John Huntington is one of the best attorneys in the country and working for him is an honor, but the man can be as brutal as he can be sweet. He doesn’t accept anything less than perfection and 150 percent commitment to the office. The click of my high heels echoes around the hallway, and the stress of the unknown builds inside me. When I reach his

office, I lightly knock on his door and move to sit in the hot seat.

“I’m sorry to pull you away from your weekend, Savannah.”

Little does he know that his phone call saved me from saying words I could never take back. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been happier about being called into work on a Saturday night. “Not a problem. What’s this all about?”

“I just got word from the DEA in Colombia that Vazquez is moving a lot of money out of safe houses. They don’t know where it’s going yet, but they seem to think he’s going to run. No one knows this guy better than you. What do you make of it?”

Matias Vazquez is the head of the Vazquez Cartel and the reason I’m working with Noah and Connor.

For the past year, I’ve been researching and working on building a case against Vazquez, but this is the first time in twelve months that the US Attorney’s Office has put the case at a priority level.

I have been breathing information about Vazquez for months now, studying his psych profile, his childhood, criminal patterns in Colombia, his associations with corrupt government officials and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia

(FARC) members, and his operations in the United States.

From what we know about Vazquez at this point in time, I can’t be convinced he would ever leave his country. He's well-protected by the officials he’s bought over the years, has strong associations to the FARC, and even stronger family ties. Whatever the reason behind him moving his money, he’s not running—that, I know. “There’s no way he would ever leave Colombia. He’s protected there, so it makes no sense for him to run. If he sensed the DEA was closing in on his safe houses, that could explain why he’s moving the money. My guess is he’s moving it to a FARC-controlled location.”

“All right then. Evans and Johnson will be in first thing in the morning, and I need you to brief them on this development. Let’s see if we can reach out to our sources in Bogota and work out what the hell is going on.” That means they must have received a call soon after I left the lake house. I had hoped to have the chance to dodge Noah for a while, but this development not only means I’ll be drinking bad coffee for days, but that I won’t be able to avoid him either.

Maybe if I act like nothing happened back at the lake house—which isn’t far from the truth—he’ll

forget all about it, but that’s probably wishful thinking. I smile at my boss because there is no way I’ll let him see how affected I am by working with Noah. “Yes, sir.”

Noah

Showing up to work at 6 a.m. on a Sunday is not my idea of ‘Sunday Fun-day,’ but I’ve learned to make the best of it over the years. I’ve been with the DEA for over ten years, but I’ve never seen this type of frenzy in relation to a case. The Vazquez Cartel is one of the largest drug cartels in the world, and we all know the risks associated with trying to take them down. I stop by the coffee shop Savannah loves; I know she’s been at the office since she got into the city last night, which means she hasn’t slept and she’s been fueling on bad coffee. I’ve known her long enough to understand that bringing her a cup of her favorite java is the best peace offering I could present. I’m not sure what happened last night in her bedroom, but I’ve never seen her open up like that to me before, and I can’t help but wonder what she would have said if her phone hadn’t rang when it did.

When I walked into her room and saw her rubbing her temples, I decided to use what I knew about her to my advantage. If that makes me an asshole, then I don’t care, because feeling her against my skin and having her practically dissolve around me is becoming one of my favorite memories. When I get to her office, she’s studying some report from God knows where. She looks exhausted, but no one has ever made exhausted look better. Leave it to Savannah to show up to work on a weekend in a suit and high heels, because God forbid someone she works with see her in her casual jeans attire.

I’ve been in her doorway for a couple of minutes and she hasn’t noticed I’m watching her, so whatever she’s working on must be important. I take a seat in front of her desk, putting the coffee in her line of sight. “Figured you could use this.”

Her eyes lift up through her glasses, smiling at me as she takes it from me and has a sip. “Thanks.”

“You go home at all?” I ask her, taking in the papers scattered across her desk and her back-up clothes spread out on the sofa.

“Nope. John asked me to work on a briefing for you guys. I also tried to get info out of sources as to why Vazquez is moving millions in cash, but

everyone is keeping silent, which is pissing me off.”

She’s stretching her neck and I want to step behind her and massage the tension away more than anything, but I know she would kill me if I even tried to do that at work. In ten years, I’ve worked with more Assistant US Attorneys than I can remember, but none of them have ever shown the dedication and commitment that Savannah brings to the table. It goes beyond that, too. She’s smart and quick on her feet, but if you ever try to make her look weak, she’ll end you. I’ve dealt with drug dealers and hard criminals, but a pissed-off Savannah scares the hell out of me.

I lean back into the chair before smiling at her because I know what I’m about to tell her is both going to make her smile and freak out. “Well, I might make your day then. I made a few calls and found out that two undercover DEA agents had their covers blown yesterday, which would explain why Vazquez is moving the money. There’s no way he would keep it in burned locations.”

“That’s what I told John last night. DEA seemed to think he was running, but he would never run.

How did deep-cover agents get burned, Noah?”

Wasn’t that the fucking million-dollar question?

When my boss called me last night and briefed me

on this clusterfuck, my first question was the exact same one. Deep-cover DEA agents are hard as hell to burn, so whoever leaked the information has to have classified access to case files, and that is never a good fucking thing. Working a case like Vazquez is always filled with things you never saw coming, and having a dirty DEA agent wouldn’t be the first time. “Fuck if I know. We’re looking into security breaches on our end, though.”

“You think you have a mole?” I watch her as she tucks away a stray hair that’s fallen out of her ponytail. My fingers itch to get tangled in her hair and watch her come undone.

I’ve always had a thing for her long, brown hair, and fuck if it hasn’t been a part of more fantasies than I care to admit. Like her hair curled around my hand while she’s on her knees sucking my cock, for instance. Shit, I have to get myself under control before I start walking around with a hard-on. I run a hand through my hair, refocusing on the task at hand instead of fucking Savannah bent over her desk. “I sure as hell hope not, but if we do, we’ll find out before more agents’ covers are blown.”

“Shit, this case is going to be the death of me. On top of all this bullshit, I’ve got CIs, our confidential informants, who no one had heard from for three

days, only to find out they were found dead, and the office has been getting threats made against me.”

“What threats?” And why the hell haven’t I been informed of this before?

“Warning me to back off before they have to hurt me. You know, the usual bullshit.” She’s shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal when it definitely fucking is. Vazquez takes pride in killing people who come after him, and she’s acting like these are empty threats.

I slam my hands down on her desk, making her jump a little. “It’s not bullshit, Savannah. Vazquez doesn’t fuck around, and having you poking around sure as hell can’t be making him happy. Shit, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“We’ve officially been working on this case together for a week, Noah, so when was I supposed to tell you? Don’t forget I’ve been building this case for over a year, so I’m not on Vazquez’s favorite person list.”

“I’m gonna talk to John about having your security increased.”

“Noah, it’s not that big of a deal.” I swear she’s going to give me a heart attack before my thirtyfourth birthday. How can she not see how big of a

deal this is? There’s no way I’ll let her stay on this case without protection—without my protection. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, and if it means tying her to my bed and not letting her leave, I’m more than happy to do that.

“Don’t argue with me on this. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you and I could have done something to prevent it.”

“Fine, but you have to promise me you’ll do the same for Annabelle. I’m not the only Assistant US Attorney working on this case, and she’s our friend, Noah.” There she goes again, thinking about everyone else but herself. She’s so fucking stubborn when it comes to her, but she’d give her life if it meant protecting her friends. That’s one of the things I love about her so much. Love? Shit, where the hell did that come from? Before I can overanalyze it, my phone signals a text message. I glance at it quickly before getting up and walking to the door.

I turn back to her and smile. “I’ll put Connor on it.”

“Oh, she’s gonna be real happy about that,” she says, laughing.

“She’ll get over it.” And so will you when you find out what I’m about to do. It’s all I can think about as I make my way to John’s office.

Savannah

“This case is high profile, Savannah, and there’s already been threats made regarding your safety.

The US Attorney’s Office doesn’t want to take any chances, so we’re assigning Noah Johnson to your protection detail.”

This has to be a nightmare. There’s no way this is really happening.

The last person I want assigned to my protection is Noah, because who the hell is going to protect me from him? He planned this. I just know it. The minute I told him about the threats, I bet he conjured this whole thing in his mind.

“Is that really necessary, sir?” I ask John, hoping he’s going to give me a different answer than the one I know he’s going to say.

“Yes, and its non-negotiable. From this moment on, you’ll be under Johnson’s protection 24/7.” My brain stumbles on that last part.

How exactly am I going to be under his protection 24/7? Surely he couldn’t mean what I think he’s heading toward, right? “How is that going to work exactly?”

“Johnson has made it clear that your safety is a main priority for him. He’s suggested you two move in together until this case is closed, and I agree with him. He’ll be able to protect you better if you’re living under the same roof.”

“Do I have a say in this?” I practically plead, knowing very well I don’t.

“This is the only way I’ll allow you to stay on this case, Savannah.” The stern look in his eyes tells me I shouldn’t push this any further.

I nod in acceptance. “I understand, sir.”

After that encounter with my boss, I need coffee and I need it bad. I head out of the building toward my favorite coffee shop, coming up with ways I could kill Noah and get away with it. Out of all the things that could have happened, this is the one I truly don’t think I can handle. Being around Noah at work and with our friends hanging out together is one thing, but living under the same roof as the man who makes my hormones rev like an engine, that’s a whole other thing entirely.

I grab my phone to call Kennedy, desperately needing to talk to someone about what just happened, but when I turn the corner; I slam into a wall of muscle known as Connor Evans. “Savannah, are you okay?”

I can tell he’s not talking about our collision, and that just fuels my anger. Was everybody in on this crazy plan of Noah’s? “You knew about this? Damn it!” I take a deep breath, telling myself it’s not Connor’s fault. “I’m fine, Connor. I just didn’t see it coming.”

“You know Noah is doing this because it would kill him if something were to happen to you, right?”

“The why isn’t what’s bothering me, Connor.

Living with Noah is not something I ever thought I would have to do.” Seeing Noah half-naked is the problem. Seeing Noah working out is the problem.

Everything about this arrangement is the problem.

“But you’ve thought about it.” His question takes me aback, but the seriousness of his face tells me he’s not kidding around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask him, planting my hands on my hips like a child.

He grabs my arm, and before I know it, I’m sitting on a bench facing him. “Come on, Savannah.

I’ve known you for a long time and I’ve never seen you look at another man the way you look at Noah, so I know you’ve thought about what it would be like with him.”

“Did I miss a group meeting where everyone agreed to get on my case about my feelings for Noah? Because this is getting a bit ridiculous. You out of everyone should know I’m not his type, Connor, so why are you pushing this?” I’m about as close to the edge as a person can be from a combination of lack of sleep, stress, and not enough coffee, and this conversation is not going anywhere near safe ground.

“Is that what you really think? Sweetheart, there’s no one who fits Noah’s type better than you because you’re it for him. And if you’d actually let him show you that, you would understand why we’re all on your case.” I can’t recall ever seeing Connor so emotionally involved in my life.

Watching him walk away from me, his words playing back in my head, I know living with Noah is going to open doors I’d rather remained closed.

Noah

Whatever she’s working on analyzing must be really important, because it’s the second time today she’s allowed me to stand in her doorway, looking at her without her ever taking notice. The toes of her shoes are peeking from under her desk where she’s kicked them off. Savanah’s sitting on the sofa in her office, her legs crossed with her bright-red painted toes giving me a glimpse of the wild soul she can be. I watch her silently as she tries to alleviate the pressure building in her neck and shoulders, a tell that she’s stressed-out and in pain. I finally step inside her office, offering a simple, “Hey.” She’s startled by my voice, and when she spills her coffee on some of her notes, I can’t help but smile at how unsettled I can make her. “Noah, God, you scared me.”

“Sorry, did John talk to you?” It’s easy to see she has a lot on her mind, and the threats made against her aren’t helping her relax. I hadn’t planned to have her move in with me, but when John spoke of secure housing, my mouth spoke before my brain could tell it to stop.

“About assigning you to my security? Yes, he did.”

“You don’t seem too thrilled about the arrangement.” The way her eyes are piercing through my body tells me she’s less than pleased about the agreement. To be honest, it scares the shit out of me. Having her in my house, watching her first thing in the morning…. Fuck. If that’s enough to make me hard, this was definitely not my best idea.

Watching her struggle with her words in her head before speaking is something I’ve always found adorable. She always processes her words before she says them, afraid she might say something that’s out of place. It’s a habit I’ve spent years trying to break because I want her to feel free enough to speak what’s on her mind without having to filter it, but that habit goes much deeper than she lets on.

“Oh, no, it’s not like that. I’m thankful you’re the one protecting me. This arrangement is just a lot to take in. I mean, we’re going to be living together, Noah. Do you think that’s really necessary?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s the best way I can keep you safe.

Plus, we’re always together lately with this case, so it’s not like it’s going to be that much of a change.

And you’ve stayed at my place a million times before, so what’s the problem?” I know exactly what the problem is, but I need her to say it. If this is going to work, I need her to give me what I need,

what I desperately ache for—her trust. I take a seat beside her and grab some of the almonds she has on the table, watching her take deep breaths.

“There’s no problem. I really appreciate you doing this. I’m sure having me cramp your bachelor style is not your idea of a great scenario. It’s just things are…different.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what I had expected her to say. For the first time in a long time, I take a good look at her, letting the agent take over. She’s fidgeting, twisting her rings, biting her lower lip.

She’s scared and uncomfortable, but most of all, she’s insecure. How could I have missed that?

“First, you’re one of the most important people in my life, so protecting you is not a hardship, Savannah. Second, you’re not going to cramp my style because I don’t have one. Third, things are different, but I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“I never said it was a bad thing.” She dropped her eyes avoiding mine, which pisses me off. She’s hiding from me, something she never did before.

“No, you didn’t, but I know you and that’s what you meant.” The debate going on in her head is obvious, but pushing the elephant in the room isn’t the way to go about this, not with Savannah.

“It’s just… hmm…. We haven’t talked about what happened at the lake house. We’ve been keeping the conversation on safe ground, and I don’t know how to handle this change between us.

This is why I told you to stop pushing something that would change everything. Look at us. That’s exactly what’s happening, and I don’t like it.” I’m hearing what she’s saying, but there is no way I’m accepting what she’s telling me. The change between us is something I’ve been dying to see happen for over a decade, and knowing it’s affecting her just as much is the power I need, or at least the beginning of it.

I take her hands in mine, hoping it will show her I’m right there with her. “What do you want from me, Savannah? Just tell me what you want me to do, tell me how you want me to act, and I’ll do it. I’ll give you everything you want, just talk to me.”

“Noah—” A knock on the door interrupts her, and when I see Connor standing there with a grin on his face, I want to kill him for disturbing what could have been the ground-breaking moment that would change our lives. When I glance over at Savannah, I see relief on her face and I don’t know how I feel about that. As Connor speaks, she lets out a breath.

“Sorry to interrupt, kids, but you guys are gonna wanna see this.”

Savannah

Walking down to the conference room with Connor and Noah ahead of me, I try to regain my composure after the close call in my office. I have no idea why Noah is pushing this so much. We both know nothing good can come out of us taking that step, so I have to wonder why he keeps twisting the knife. Walking behind Noah has its advantages, like staring at his ass, and what a sight that is—a very unhelpful sight in assisting me in regaining my composure, especially as I don’t tear my eyes away from it until I run into a solid wall of pure man.

When I look up, the smile on his face lets me know I’ve been caught.

Afraid I’m going to say something stupid, I walk by him with heated cheeks and enter the conference room where Annabelle is already sitting with John and the other members of the DEA task force. The past twelve hours have all been a blur, from burnt DEA agents to CIs being murdered, and security breaches. It feels like a whole week happening on a

Sunday. I grab the coffee Annabelle has for me, whispering a thank you as I take my seat next to my boss.

“At 2:30 this morning, NYPD was called on scene where they discovered two bodies. Savannah, I think you’ll be able to take it from here.” Looking at my boss, I can see the strain this case has put on him. All of us have been working on building this case against Vazquez for over a year, and adding a DEA task force to the mix only means more work.

“Shit, this is not good. The bodies found were Enrique Lopez and Manuel Ramirez, both of whom worked for Vazquez as smugglers. They’re also two of our confidential informants. The question now is how did Vazquez find out Enrique and Manuel were talking to us?” That’s the question I have spent most of the morning asking myself and my sources.

Looking at the DEA leaks and then this, it’s clear we have a mole. No one wants to believe someone you work with, someone who is supposed to have your back in a gun fight or in a court room, could be working for the enemy. But money speaks and Vazquez has a lot of it, enough to make someone rethink their alliances.

“That’s a good fucking question. Who knew about them working for us?” I can relate to the

anger in Connor’s voice. This case has been full of blowbacks and twists that no one saw coming.

Working with people you’ve known your whole life has advantages because it means you know how to handle their reactions, but with Connor, it’s always a wild guess. Annabelle is the one best equipped to deal with him, even if she prefers to keep her distance unless she has to bring him back to the room.

“I kept them off the books, Connor. No one knew about them except for John and myself.” My eyes land on Noah who is looking at the case files sent over by the NYPD. When he raises his head, his eyes are dark with concern and a million questions.

“Well, someone found out and leaked the info back to Vasquez. And from the looks of it, these guys were tortured to talk. What kind of leverage could these guys have given Vazquez, Savannah?”

“They didn’t know much. I made sure of that. I recruited them after Logan arrested Enrique and Manuel for possession. They’re smugglers for the cartel, bringing in drugs from Colombia by boat to Miami and making sure they’re delivered to the right markets. They were kids when Vazquez recruited them, threatening to kill their families if they didn’t do what he needed them to do.” One

thing you learn really early when you’re working with CIs is to keep the information you share with them to a minimum. If they can be turned to work against their boss, they can easily be turned back to work against you.

“How much info did these guys have on Vazquez?” Noah’s voice is calm. It’s one of his most dangerous assets. Noah can be angry enough to kill, but you would never be able to tell. That’s what makes him such a good undercover agent, a part of his job I could never get used to. Back in law school, I remember the days when Kennedy used to tell me that Noah was on an undercover operation.

The whole time I wasn’t able to sleep until he got back. It’s still something I can’t handle very well, especially now that I know how brutal some of the guys can be when they find out they’re being played by federal agents.

“Nothing that could put Vazquez away. He keeps his inner circle tight. But Enrique and Manuel gave us information on the routes the cartel uses to smuggle the drugs into the country and then distribute them. They were supposed to give us names of handlers for various markets, which would have given us the leverage we needed to get close to Vasquez.”

“I’ll have our tech team looking into any security breaches. If no one knew about these two being CIs, then someone had to go sniffing around,” Annabelle spoke up, taking notes about what needed to be checked. I love working with her. She’s one of the smartest people I know and a kickass lawyer. Plus, by the way this case is shaping up, I have a feeling that having close friends working on this with me is going to come in handy when it comes down to who to trust.

“I’ll talk to the NYPD and see what they found on the scene. Savannah, you should come with me.”

I glance at Noah and nod in agreement. “Okay.”

“Before everyone takes off,” John interrupts, “there’ve been some threats made against this office, especially toward Savannah, so keep your eyes and ears open, people. These guys are brutal, and they won’t hesitate to take out anyone who can jeopardize their operations.” I watch John leave the conference room, and for the first time since the threats started, it feels real, like this case could be my last.

I glance up at Noah who must have sensed what I was feeling because he looks at Connor and Annabelle. Once everyone leaves, he comes over to me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Chapter Three Noah

Seeing Savannah in my house shouldn’t be a shock, since she’s been here before more times than I can count, but there’s something different about today.

Things between us have shifted, and for the first time in a long time, I try and see my house through her eyes. “You know where everything is. Do you want the master or the guest bedroom?”

She looks at me with wide eyes like I am offering her a key to the secret garden. “I’m not taking your room, Noah. The guest bedroom is more than all right.” Of course it is. I don’t know why I offered her the master bedroom.

The image of her in my bed and the smell of her body wash on my sheets is something I’ve imagined over the years, and that has led to more self-induced orgasms than I care to admit. “Okay. The closet is empty if you want to use it.”

“Thank you.” When you’ve known someone for as long as I’ve known Savannah, it’s easy to spot her nervous tell. The way she’s wrapping her hair around her finger, I know she’s uneasy. I shrug off my gun and badge, putting them in the safe, and when I turn around, she’s loosened her hair. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. She’s kicked off her shoes and stripped off her blazer, and I swear, she’s so goddamn beautiful, it takes everything in me not to haul her against me and kiss her.

“You’re welcome. Do you want to stay in or go out for dinner?”

“Would you mind if we ordered in? I’m beat and I still have some files to go over. But if you want to go out, I can grab a quick shower.” It’s one of the things that draws people to Savannah—her willpower to put what she wants to do in the back of her head for what she thinks makes other people happy. Over the years, she’s done this so many times, we all tend to forget she does it; hell, sometimes we even take advantage of that without thinking about it.

But I’m not most people, and she can’t fool me, no matter how much she wants to. “Savannah,

please stop freaking out about this. Ordering in sounds pretty damn good, actually. I’m beat, too.”

“Okay.” She smiles at me like I’ve just given her the best gift in the world. That’s the thing about the beautiful woman standing in front of me; it’s not about trips and money, it’s about the little things in life. For someone like me, that’s the best kind of woman.

“Indian?”

“Yes, please.” When she takes a few steps toward me, I realize I’m holding my breath because I have no idea what she’s thinking, or what she’s going to do. Her lips press softly against my cheek, and my hand settles on her lower back like we’ve done this a million times.

She steps back and I have to bite back a groan when the heat of her body disappears. “Go settle in and I’ll order.”

Savannah

The minute I step away from Noah’s body, I feel the flush creep over me. I unpack fairly quickly, not wanting to make him wait if the food is delivered

before I’m ready. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize I desperately need a shower. I strip off my clothes, dropping them in the hamper before taking a quick one.

I grab a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, opting to leave my wet hair down. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me like this a million times before. When I walk outside my room, I’m overwhelmed by the smell of food, and on cue, my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since 11 a.m.

“Oh, God, it smells like Heaven in here. Sorry I took so long, but I needed a shower.”

“No worries. I got tandoori chicken, chicken vindaloo, basmati rice, and coconut naan.” A girl could get used to the sight of Noah wearing wornout sweats and a faded grey DEA T-shirt, lounging on his sofa. Looking that good in sweat pants should be illegal. The glint in his eyes when he realizes I’m staring at him like he’s dinner makes me as giddy as a teenager with a crush.

“All my favorites.” I try to calm my hormones before taking a seat next to him, but when I catch his smell, I moan softly. I’ve never been one of those women who gets aroused by a man’s scent— well, unless it’s Noah, because then it’s open season. A combination of musk and spice, the one

combination that always makes me think of rubbing against him and having his smell on me for days.

Beside him, on what should be a large sofa, makes the space appear small. His closeness has that immediate effect on me. My thoughts seem to have a mind of their own, drifting off to straddling Noah and digging my fingernails into his shoulder blades as he makes me scream his name. Noah’s hand on my thigh brings me back to present company. I try and give him my best smile, but judging by the look in his eyes, I’ve been caught red-handed with X-rated thoughts about my best friend’s brother.

“Can’t do Indian and not get your favorites.” It’s so much harder to not fall more in love with him when he says and does things like that. He leans back into the sofa, giving me a perfect view of skin between his T-shirt and the waistband of his sweats.

I’ve always loved the trail of hair on his chest. I’ve dreamed of licking my way down its path more than once. I swallow hard, fighting to look away, but when he lifts his arms over his head, I know it’s a losing battle. I cross my legs under me, taking deep breaths to regain control of the situation.

When I look at his face, I smile at the sweetness written all over it, even if I know there’s a side of

dark urges and kinky appetites close behind the cool surface. “When did you get so sweet?” My voice is shaky, but I try my best to keep my cool.

“I’m not being sweet. I’m a man who knows what he wants.” The controlled, even tone of his voice doesn’t leave much to interpretation.

His lust-filled eyes and the way he’s stroking his beard are enough to let me know what he wants is something dirty and hot. I swallow a bite of the chicken, not even noticing the taste, before speaking, “And what do you want?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, and I can’t help but think I’ve opened a door he doesn’t want to go through, that maybe I’ve been reading the signs all wrong for the past couple of days. But the tension rolling off his body is telling me I’ve hit a nerve that has some interest to him. What he says next is the last thing I expected him to say. “Right now, all I want is to spend time with you.” If I was expecting a comment high in sexual innuendos, I would’ve been sorely disappointed, but I’m not. I’m actually more affected by his comment than I would have been by something purely sexual.

Spending time with Noah is one of the things I love doing, and hearing him say he wants that from

me? Well, it’s a damn good feeling. “You’re bound to get tired of me before we close this case.”

“You forget I’ve known you for eighteen years, Savannah, and I’m not tired of you yet.” He leans over to me and kisses my forehead. He doesn’t move right away, leaning his forehead against mine like he’s debating what he should do next.

The need to put us back on even ground sweeps me off my feet, and before I can stop the words from spilling off my tongue, I say. “Did you make any progress on figuring out how your agents’ covers got blown?”

I feel his whole body stiffen before he slowly pulls away from me, locking his eyes with mine.

The confusion lying within those brown orbs cannot be mistaken. He tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going on in my head.

God, I wish I knew what was going on inside my head. “No. Connor double-checked our security parameters and there’s been no digital breach, so that leaves a mole.” Now this is a conversation I can handle. Something work-related, something professional, something that doesn’t end up with thoughts of Noah naked and over me.

Shaking off the cobwebs that formed over my brain matter, I feel the uneasiness that this case

brings take over my body and mind. “Shit. I hate these cases, Noah. Guys like Vazquez can buy anything, even loyalty. Do you think we only have one mole who’s on the task force? That would explain my two CIs being murdered.”

“It’s what makes the most sense.” The idea that someone we both trust is working against us is something we can never be ready for. The trust we put in each other is what makes us a solid team, what we depend on to stay safe, so when doubts start creeping in about someone’s intentions, it’s unsettling. In our line of work, having a mole can be the difference between life and death, and that’s not something you want to have over your head when you’re trying to make decisions that impact more than yourself.

Noah has always been the protective type, so I know the thought of it being someone he trusts with his life and the lives of the people closest to him is weighing on him. “I filed a request for a warrant to have access to the financials of everyone who is on the task force, including us. If someone was paid off, there’s bound to be a trace somewhere.”

“What about Vazquez’s financials?” Isn’t that the big question? For the past few months, I’ve been trying to get a warrant for the bastard’s finances.

Apparently, drug money buys you a lot of friends, though, and finding a friendly judge is a harder task than I had predicted.

“I’m still waiting for the warrant,” I inform him.

“If I could just get my hands on his bank accounts, I know I could find the trail.” Sensing the anxiety radiating from my body, Noah takes my phone from my lap and puts it on the corner table before pulling me into his chest.

“You’re not gonna find anything tonight. You’ve been at this for more than twenty-four hours straight. How about we watch a movie?”

With my head on his shoulders and my arm wrapped around his solid chest, I nod. “I guess I could use a break.”

“What do you feel like watching?” He pulls me closer to him and it feels like I’ve landed home.

I smile at him. “Action.” Action movies have always been our thing.

“That’s my girl.”

I snuggle my head in the crook of his neck, and when he wraps a blanket around us, I let myself drift off, knowing I couldn’t be safer than I am right now, in Noah’s arms.

Noah

Running my hand through my hair, sipping on my third coffee, all I can do is replay last night in my head. I have no idea what happened, but fuck, having her fall asleep on my shoulder, wrapped around me is the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.

Nothing could ever match the sensation of having her completely relax beside me and feeling her curves fit perfectly with my body. I knew she was using work as an equalizer because the conversation was shifting to a place she wasn’t sure she was ready for, but the stress that rolled off her body when she spoke about the security breaches brought out all of my protective instincts. If I could shield her from all this bullshit, I would. Even though I know she can handle whatever is thrown at her, I wish I could just save her the late nights and headaches.

I don’t even have to turn around to know she’s awake. Even first thing in the morning, with ruffled hair, no makeup, and covered in a robe, she’s still the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Goddamn, she’s beautiful. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey.” She’s frowning and I realize she’s not wearing her glasses. I grab them from the counter before filling a cup of coffee and refilling mine. “Coffee?”

I laugh at myself for asking her that question, because if there is one thing in this world that Savannah Walker has a committed relationship with, it’s coffee. I can’t even remember a time when she didn’t drink it.

“Yes, please. How did I get into my bed last night?” I’m tempted to say ‘with every inch of my self-control,’ because having her curled against my chest as I carried her to bed had tempted every bone in my body. “You fell asleep ten minutes into the movie. I carried you to bed.”

The second I say the words, she chokes on her coffee and her eyes grow big like I’ve just said something she’s never heard before. “You carried me to bed?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, a bit confused by her question.

“Noah, you could have hurt yourself.” She slams her hands on the counter, and I have to pay close attention to her features to see if she’s fucking with me. Hurt myself? Why would I hurt myself carrying the most precious cargo I’ve ever held in my arms?

“Run that by me again?” I ask her, sipping my coffee while waiting to see what comes out of her mouth next, hoping she’s not going down the path I think she’s going.

“I’m heavy, Noah. You can’t just lift me and carry me around.” She doesn’t look at me as she says the words, and that just pisses me off. The fact that she feels like she needs to hide from me is not something I’ll ever accept. I place my cup on the counter and walk to where she’s sitting, using my fingers to tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me.

The shame in her eyes undoes me. How can she see herself that way? She’s fucking perfect, and I want to punch any asshole who ever told her otherwise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” She almost whispers the word so I can’t hear it. I cage her face between my hands, taking a step between her legs. The feel of the heat of her skin almost makes me forget what I want to say.

Fuck, she smells so fucking good.

“Savannah Walker, pay close attention to what I’m about to say. You are not heavy, and if I ever hear those words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours again, I will have to take you over my knee.

You are fucking beautiful and perfect, and I will lift

you and carry you anytime I damn well please. Are we clear?”

My tone leaves no room for interpretation. This isn’t a discussion. It’s a fucking closed chapter. Her eyes grow big at the sound of my voice and, shit, if that doesn’t make my cock twitch. “Yes.” “Good.” I smile at her, running my finger over her lower lip, not missing the sharp intake of her breath and the blush creeping over her face.

“I feel like I should add a ‘sir’ to that ‘yes.’”

I still my finger, feeling like my whole body was just put on stop. Hearing her say that is not something I was ready for, and it’s my fucking undoing. I wrap my hand around her neck, making sure I’m not applying any pressure, but I have to test a fucking theory, and if that makes me an asshole, so be it.

“Do you want to say ‘sir?’” I squeeze my fingers around her neck, and when she moans, I almost come in my pants because seeing her react like this to a side of me I’ve been dying to keep her away from changes every-fucking-thing.

“Yes.” The word comes out of her mouth like a soft plea.

“Fuck. You keep surprising me.” I have to take a step back. I have to walk away from feeling her skin under my hands, from smelling her before I take her against the kitchen counter. She blinks up at me, and I can see the wheel turning in her head along with the million questions running through her analytical mind. But to my surprise, she doesn’t ask what I expect.

Hell, by now, I should know that nothing she does lately is ever what I expect it to be. “Is that good or bad?” Her voice is lust-filled, and it’s like a straight shot to my dick.

I run my fingers through my hair and my beard and sigh before saying anything. “Hell if I know.”

And that’s the God’s honest truth because at this moment, I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life.

“What’s for breakfast, Master Chef?” I turn my head around to see her smiling, and I can’t help but laugh. Soon after, she’s laughing right along with me. Well, shit, leave it to Savannah to make the tension in a room disappear with one smile.

“You laugh now, but you know damn well I can cook a mean breakfast,” I tell her, grabbing the eggs from the fridge.

“It’s about the only thing you can cook, Noah.”

If this was any other situation, I would spank her ass for that little comment.

I smile at her. “Sit down and eat, Savannah.”

She looks at me with one of those ‘come and get me’ smiles before laughing the words “Yes, sir,” and fuck if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard her say. We make small talk throughout breakfast, but nothing is awkward; on the contrary, it feels natural, like this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

When she comes back out wearing a navy-blue pencil skirt, a white button-down shirt, and the sexiest grey shoes I’ve ever seen in my life, I whistle and she laughs before punching me on the arm. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

I grab my gun and my badge from the safe before following her to the car. All throughout the ride to the NYPD station, I can’t shake the feeling like today is going to be one of those days you just want to forget ever happened.

Savannah

The car ride down to the station where Blake and Logan work is a bit strange. Noah seems preoccupied by something, and I can’t help but feel bothered by that because whatever is eating at him, it’s bound to be something big. Noah’s instinct and gut feeling are something that never fails him.

We’re stopped a few times once we arrive at the station by detectives who have worked with Noah on previous cases. The NYPD’s drug unit is one of the most solid units in the department, but a lot of the detectives are rough around the edges from either seeing too much crap or from being undercover for too long.

Seeing Blake sitting at his desk makes me smile.

I love that man like a brother, and seeing him alive and well after being shot last year while he was undercover is one of the greatest feelings in the world. That’s the one thing that’s hard about having four of your best friends working in law enforcement; when they go undercover, I hold my breath until they come back. Most of the time, they come back in one piece, but between Blake getting shot last year and Connor being beaten to within an inch of his life a few months back, it’s not something I’m looking to go through again.

Blake looks up when he hears the click of my heels on the floor, and the smile he sends my way is

enough to melt any woman’s panties right off.

“Well, damn, what brings you two to our neck of the woods?” Blake’s southern drawl is another reason why the ladies fall at his feet. Born and raised in Alabama, he never lost his twang, which just makes him adorable.

“Hey, Blake, where’s Logan?” I ask him while I give him a hug.

“He went to get coffee. Did you two drive here together?”

“Yeah, I’m staying with Noah for a while.” And there go the rumor machines and the endless comments about me living with Noah. The smirk on Blake’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, and when I glance over at Noah, he has the same expression.

“Run that one by me again.” Blake’s all but laughing at the situation, and I can’t help but smile.

I know exactly what he’s thinking, but it’s not like I was given a choice in the matter.

Before I can make a smart-ass comment, Noah puts his hand on my shoulder and beats me to the punch. “Security threats were made against her, so I moved her into my place. It’s easier to keep her safe.”

“Oh, yeah, I bet it is.” Blake’s always been the most laid-back out of all of us, even if he’s the one with the most demons. Not that he ever talks about them; the man is like a vault. The only time I’ve ever seen a glimpse of his heartache was when he woke up in the hospital last year and he saw Kennedy crying over his bed. That’s the moment when most of us realized Blake has only one weakness: Kennedy.

“Guys, stop acting like teenagers. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve stayed with one of you.” I grab Logan’s empty chair and pull it beside Blake’s desk.

I feel Noah behind me, his presence keeping me calm.

“That’s true, but it is the first time you’ve ever stayed overnight with Noah.” This is not a conversation I want to have in the middle of a police station, especially when Noah is behind me with his hands on my shoulders, making it clear to any man looking that their best option to keep breathing is to not talk to me. Some women might be thrown off by that, but I love this side of Noah.

“Well, I am now. Are we done talking about my living arrangements? Great, so can we talk about my two CIs who were murdered yesterday?”

“Are you talking about Lopez and Ramirez?

They were your guys?” I don’t miss the concern in Blake’s voice. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it, and God knows it probably won’t be the last.

“The one and only.”

“Shit, Savannah, what the hell are you digging into?” He sounds a bit angry, but when Noah squeezes my shoulders, I know he has my back.

“The Vazquez Cartel.” I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the ‘are you crazy’ speech I know I’m about to get.

“Fuck. Savannah, Matias Vazquez is a sick bastard. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

I love these guys, but sometimes I wish they would just stop hovering so much over my life. Just because I don’t carry a gun and a badge doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself. They should all know that since they’ve been giving me boxing lessons since I turned sixteen, and Blake taught me how to shoot when I turned twenty-one.

I take a deep breath, forcing my emotions into check. “Well, first, it’s already done. We’ve been on it for the past twelve months and we’ve just formed the task force with the DEA. Second, I’ve got Noah

and Connor with me almost 24/7, so I’m feeling pretty safe.”

I can see the wheels turning in Blake’s head as I watch the nonverbal communication happening between him and Noah, smiling at the two men all the while. When Blake finally speaks, it’s obvious some of his concern has been put in check by Noah.

“I don’t like it, but if anyone can take the bastard down, it’s you.”

“Thanks. So, what can you tell me about Lopez and Ramirez?” I haven’t been able to shake the guilt since finding out about their deaths. That’s one part of the job I’ve never been able to separate myself from. I know these guys were criminals, but I’m the one responsible for turning them against Vazquez and that makes me partly accountable. I know they made their own choices, but knowing someone was murdered because of something you offered them is not fun to live with, no matter how long their rap sheets were.

“Not much. The ME isn’t done with the autopsies, but they were bad off. Throats cut out, broken fingers, burn marks on their chest and feet— these guys suffered like hell.” Blake explains the injuries as he’s going through the photos of the bodies and the crime scenes. It doesn’t matter how

many of these you’ve seen, they never get easier to look at.

“This is all because of me. If I hadn’t made them CIs, they’d still be alive. Fuck!” Nausea settles in my stomach when I hear the extent of their injuries.

These guys hadn’t been murdered; they had been tortured for information. Information I gave to them. I have to focus on breathing because the photos Blake is showing me reinforce my guilt. I pinch my nose, sensing the migraine building.

Before I know it, Noah is on his knees in front of me, holding my face with one hand while the other caresses my thigh. His voice is low enough that only Blake and I can hear him. “Savannah, you can’t blame yourself for this. They made their choice when you approached them, and they made their choice when they didn’t tell Vasquez’s men anything. Their choices killed them. This isn’t on you.”

“I know, Noah, but it still feels like it’s my fault.”

My brain knows that what he’s telling me is the truth, but accepting that…well, that’s a whole different story. I shake off the feeling; an Assistant US Attorney cannot afford a breakdown in the middle of an NYPD station, and definitely not in the midst of one of the biggest cases of my career.

“What else can you tell us, Blake?” I ask. As Noah backs way, he silently lets me know he understands what I’m doing, but the strain on his face tells me this conversation isn’t over.

“As I said, there’s not much to go on until we get the report from the ME.” His tone tells me that whatever the ME finds, it’s not going to be pretty.

“All right. You’ll call us first thing?” I see the captain going into his office from the corner of my eye. I slowly rise from the chair, making sure I don’t lose my bearings after my semi-emotional breakdown.

“Always, darling.”

“Thanks, Blake. I’m going to go say hi to your captain before we go.”

Noah

I hate seeing her walk away, but fuck, watching her hips sway side to side is making me fucking crazy.

Every cop in the station has their eyes glued on her ass, and I’m half-inclined to rip their eyes out for looking at something that isn’t theirs, something that belongs to me. Watching her battle the guilt

over her two CIs did a number on me. I know I can’t let my emotions come into play when it comes to this case, but I feel like I have no other choice. I want to shake her and make her understand that none of this is her fault and that it’s going to get worse before it gets better, but I know she’s too damn stubborn and compassionate to see it my way.

“Vazquez is fucking crazy, Noah. Are you sure you want your woman on this case?” I can understand Blake’s anger about having someone he cares about working this—hell, I feel the same way every fucking day—but this is Savannah’s job and no one does it better than her. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to her.

“First, she’s not my woman. Second, this is what she does, Blake. You said it yourself, if anyone can take him down, it’s her. Plus, Annabelle is on this case, too. You think Connor likes this any more than I do?”

If there’s one thing we could all agree on, it’s how fucking crazy Connor is going to drive Annabelle before this case is over. My protective instincts over Savannah have nothing on Connor’s, especially not where Annabelle is concerned. The day we came back from Mexico and Connor was fighting for his life, he was screaming her name like

she was his salvation. He had two DEA agents put on her protection detail for two months after the case was closed because there was no way he would take a chance with her life.

“She’s living with you? How’s that, man?” No one could miss the laughter in Blake’s voice, and punching that pretty face is tempting as hell.

I laugh through my teeth, thinking about last night. “Fucking Heaven and Hell combined.”

“This is fucking priceless. Years, man. Over a decade, and shit, it takes a drug lord to bring you guys to this point. It’s fucking priceless.” I hear the irony in his voice, but I can’t deny he has a point.

Savannah and I would never be at this crossroads if it wasn’t for her life being threatened. Shit, it probably would have taken us another decade to get to where we’re heading if it wasn’t for this case. If there’s ever one good thing to come out of working on this and putting this dirtbag away, it’s my relationship with Savannah.

I feel her before she speaks, and I know she’s right behind me. Her hand rests on my forearm and the electricity shooting through my body can’t be denied. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, man. I’ll see you at poker.”

When we get to the car, it’s easy to see she has a lot

on her mind. Her shoulders are tense and she seems miles away.

“Are you okay?” I try to sound as grounded as I can be.

“I was just thinking about the day we got the call that Blake was shot and how Kennedy wasn’t herself when we told her. She just lost it, her cool exterior disappeared, you know. She was hysterical until we got to the hospital, and the minute she saw him in that bed, she lost it. She was crying and screaming and we couldn’t do anything to help her until Blake woke up and pulled her to him. But look at them now—they fight their attraction and their feelings and they’re both miserable. And then there’s Connor and Annabelle. You weren’t there when I had to tell her he was coming back from Mexico fighting for his life. The look in her eyes, Noah, it was like a piece of her died. Connor was out for two days when you guys got back, and she didn’t leave him once. Then he woke up and he acted like she didn’t mean anything to him, yet he put those agents on her. It’s the same thing with Logan and Zoe. When Zoe was kidnapped, we all lost it, but Logan went into killing mode. I’d never seen him that way. We have these patterns we created to keep each other safe, but really, how safe are we from each other? If something were to

happen to you, Noah, I don’t know what I would do. I couldn’t handle it. I just couldn’t….”

She is breaking my heart with the emotions in her voice. I can’t think of anything to say, so I take her hand in mine and tell her the only thing I can think of. “Baby, nothing is going to happen to me.

I’m never going to leave you.” I hold my breath as a tear runs down her cheek.

I hoped to God I will never break that promise.

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