Ree must’ve seen Mystery Guy from the taco stand at the same time as Quint, based on how much his muscles involuntarily tensed. She navigated them to an open table on the opposite side of the bar before scanning for Lola. As it turned out, all Ree had to do was follow Mystery Guy’s lead. He was ordering a drink from someone who matched Lola’s description.
In fact, there was a run on drinks at Lola’s end of the bar, considering the number of single men who seemed uninterested in any of the women in the area. This area of the bar was lit in sea-blue lighting, which made it a little easier to see. Lola had black hair that ran halfway down her back. Even from Ree’s position across the room, it was easy to see Lola was beautiful. She had a look that was difficult to pinpoint. European? Latin American?
This whole situation would be so much easier if Ree could just walk into the bar, flash a badge and start interviewing people. Of course, she also knew that would be the death of a sting operation. These cases took a whole lot more finesse. Was that part of the thrill?
Constantin was nowhere to be found. Apparently, Mystery Guy wasn’t ordering a drink, because he nodded at Lola, smiled and then headed toward the door. Was he leaving?
The move caught Ree off guard and she didn’t want to be seen by him twice in one night, so she immediately hopped on Quint’s lap and wrapped her arms around him, shielding much of her face. To hide the rest, she whispered, “Sorry.” And then she planted a kiss on Quint’s lips that sent her own pulse racing.
He deepened the kiss, causing her stomach to free-fall. This didn’t seem like the time to compare this kiss to their last back in Cricket Creek, but this one easily blew the other one away. And that was saying something. There was a hunger and urgency in their movements as their tongues collided, searching and teasing. Beer had never tasted so good on someone else’s lips before.
Had it really been less than a week since their case ended? Because this felt like a lovers’ reunion kiss after being separated for months.
Ree forced herself not to read too much into it as she pulled away enough to ensure Mystery Guy was walking out the door. He was, and he never looked back. Ree exhaled, trying to slow her erratic heartbeat. She couldn’t help but smile as she leaned in to his ear and whispered, “He’s gone.”
Quint brought his hands around to cup her face before laying a tender kiss on her lips. Then he pulled back and pressed his forehead against hers. “What are you drinking?”
“Whatever the most popular drink is,” she said, figuring there was some type of signature cocktail at a place like this. There weren’t a whole lot of beers in hand when she’d scanned the room after walking in. This was a mixed-drink crowd.
He hesitated with her still on his lap, so she scooted off and claimed the other chair at the table. He shook his head, and she was almost certain she heard him say the word damn.
Having an effect on the legendary Agent Quinton Casey probably shouldn’t be such a source of pride. Except there was something about this man that rattled her to the core. This wasn’t the time or the place to dig into finding out what that was. While he moved to the bar, she checked her phone. Still no word from her grandfather.
Everything had to be okay, though. Her family knew better than to interrupt her while she was in deep undercover. If anything had happened to her grandfather, someone would have reached out to her by now. He’d most likely just let his phone run out of battery and forgot to charge it. He wasn’t nearly as tied to his cell as Ree was. The thought of being without hers caused her chest to squeeze with anxiety. Had she become too dependent on it? Probably.
And yet it proved useful time and time again on investigations. She needed to grab her assigned cell phone and lock her personal one in the tackle box. Could she touch base with home one more time before she did?
During her last assignment, she’d kept her personal cell phone on her. It had been a mistake when Shane had called and upset her. Since the risks on this case went up considerably, she wouldn’t take any chances her personal information or contacts could be jeopardized no matter how much she wanted an update on her grandfather.
Ree tucked her cell back inside her handbag as Quint made his way over with cocktails in hand. His came in a highball glass whereas hers looked like a beach-blue martini. It required skill to make it through the crowd, which was thickening by the second, without spilling.
He set both drinks on the wooden tabletop with a grin as a few heads turned after he’d walked past. Jealousy wasn’t something Ree normally could be accused of. Quint brought out a different side to her. She chalked it up to being protective over her new partner who was supposed to be her husband.
“You have many talents I had no idea about,” Ree said as he reclaimed his seat opposite her.
“The drinks cost almost as much as my first car,” he said with a laugh. Despite the jokes he’d been making tonight, the concern lines etching his forehead told a different story. He was worried about this one no matter how much he tried to hide it. She doubted anyone else could tell, but she’d gotten very good at reading him on the last case.
“Our building isn’t cheap,” she said, referring to the fact that Lola lived on the ninth floor. Ree had automatically assumed Constantin paid for the apartment, and that might very well be true, but Lola might be able to finance the place on her own with the kinds of tips she should be making in a place like this.
“That it is not,” Quint said, holding out his arm. “I need a new watch.”
“You have the exact kind of watch a student should wear,” she said. On their last assignment, his cover was that he left the moving business he owned to go to school for a day job working on computers. “Besides, we’ll be living off a percentage of the tips bartenders make for at least the next year while you finish your certification.”
“Maybe I should stay with what I know,” he quipped.
“We talked about this, honey,” she said, putting on a show of frustration in case anyone was paying attention.
Glancing over at Lola, Ree wondered if she could pop over and introduce herself. Tell the bartender that Ree was a new hire and would start work tomorrow. Lola seemed to be the busiest bartender in the whole place.
After a few minutes passed, she thought better of interrupting Lola while she seemed to be jamming.
“You’re right. Stick to the plan,” he conceded. “By the time this ankle fully heals, I’ll be working a corporate nine-to-five.”
“That’s the idea,” she said. “And I’ll be a ‘kept’ woman.” She made air quotes over the word kept. It was good practice for them to get into character in a loud bar where music thumped. It would also make listening in on Lola’s conversations trickier, Ree figured.
“Let me know whenever you’re ready to go finish unpacking,” Quint said before downing his drink.
She’d been sipping on hers. A quick glance around, and the rubber plant next to her got a splash of vodka and whatever made the drink blue. It tasted good, but she wasn’t a big drinker and could still feel the beer from dinner.
She made a show of setting her glass down on the wooden tabletop. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Quint stood up at the same time she did, putting them toe-to-toe. She glanced up at him, locking eyes, in a near-fatal mistake when they stood this close. He cracked a smile that was worth more than a thousand words, dipped his head and kissed her. This time, he didn’t deepen the kiss.
He very well could have for the effect it had on her.
“Nice” was all she said as she took a step back, thinking she didn’t need to get too used to this. Because she could really go there with a person like Quint.
QUINT REACHED FOR Ree’s hand and then linked their fingers. The pace of the eight-minute walk home was a fast one. He scanned both sides of the street, searching for Mystery Guy. There was no sign of him on either sidewalk. The thought that he could live in one of the buildings around here disturbed Quint. The guy could be watching them right now. He instinctively tugged Ree a little closer at the thought. He could protect her better if she was right next to him.
“I need to grab the tackle box out of the truck before we head up,” Quint whispered to Ree.
She nodded, looking a little defeated. Her new cell phone would be inside, and she would have to hand her personal phone in.
“You haven’t heard anything about your grandfather yet,” he said.
“No, I haven’t,” she confirmed.
“I’m sorry, Ree. I know how important he is to you,” Quint said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I have to believe he’s fine,” she said. “And he probably is. If something had happened, my family would have contacted me by now, so I’m taking it as a positive sign they haven’t.”
“That’s a good attitude as long as it feels right to take that approach,” he said.
“It does,” she stated with a little less enthusiasm. She was struggling, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Unless...
“I could call your brother for you,” he said. “Shane would recognize the number of my burner phone. I’d have a good chance he would pick up.”
“No, but thank you,” she said. “It’s a sweet offer. Maybe I could send a text to apologize after blowing out of there. Let them know I’ll be over after the case wraps to say I’m sorry in person.”
“I’m sure they would appreciate the gesture,” he said. “And in case you’re worried about me calling him again, I deleted his number and all traces of it have been erased from the phone.” Shane had given Ree bad advice on day one of the last operation and had convinced the agency to give him Quint’s number. The move had caught Ree off guard, and Quint vowed never to go behind her back again when it came to her family. He should have told her right away when it happened but didn’t, thinking he was protecting her relationship with her brother. It had had the opposite effect.
“I appreciate it, Quint,” she said, taking the phone he held out to her. She sent the text, and a response came back almost immediately.
“Shane said he was very happy to hear from me,” she stated with a broad smile.
They detoured to the garage, where he picked up the tackle box and a blanket she’d forgotten earlier. There was a throw pillow underneath that she grabbed to take upstairs and personalize the apartment a little, or so she’d said when she’d thrown it in the back seat.
Once back in the apartment, he spread photos out across the counter, searching for the familiar face from earlier.
“Do you see him?” Quint asked. All he knew was that Mystery Guy’s hair was black and long enough to curl up at the collar. Quint wished he’d seen more than a flash of the guy. Flipping through the small stack of pictures, Quint couldn’t find anyone with this guy’s profile.
“Not yet,” she said.
He sat on the stool and thumbed through the photos again, slowly this time. Shook his head when she didn’t pinpoint anyone. “I could have sworn I recognized him from your file,” she said.
“Maybe you got your wires crossed,” he said. It happened. For now, Mystery Guy was just that...a mystery.
“It’s late, and it’s been a long day,” Ree said with a small nod and smile. “I should probably get ready for bed.”
She turned toward the bathroom, took a few steps, then paused at the doorway. “It means a lot coming from you, by the way.”
“Anytime,” he said. “And I mean it.”
Quint thumbed through the photos once more, studying each even more carefully. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it, and putting too much emphasis on it wouldn’t help. He tucked the photos inside the folder before replacing them inside the tackle box. There wasn’t much more that could be done until morning, so he locked the box, then put it inside the coat closet to the right of the door, figuring most wives wouldn’t want a tackle box in the same cabinet where they kept their clothing.
Clearly, this one hadn’t seen a boat, dock or fishing hole, but anyone who busted into the apartment wouldn’t know that. Maintaining an image was important. Doing what was expected was necessary. If anything stood out as unusual, their cover would be in jeopardy.
Quint started making a mental checklist of everything that needed to be done in the morning. Groceries. Supplies, like a laundry basket and detergent. He could gather everything easily enough.
Ree emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of cotton pajamas that hugged her curves a little too well. Quint cleared his throat.
“You’re up in the bathroom,” Ree said, her voice a little too sexy.
“Yep,” he stated. “Your new cell phone is on the counter. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
She walked over to the flyer on the counter.
“Pilates at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I have a feeling my new buddy, Angie, will be there,” she said.
“I’ll hit the weights while you take the class,” he said.
Angie seemed like the nosy-neighbor type. Could they get information from her about the building’s other residents—residents like Lola?