The Forgotten (Krewe of Hunters)

*

 

Diego made a vague excuse and left right after dinner. He hadn’t said anything, but Brett had a feeling his partner had met someone.

 

After a while Brett began to feel he had worn out his own welcome. They’d hashed and rehashed the case, but without more evidence, there was nothing left to say.

 

They’d also talked about other things. Matt was intrigued by the Everglades, and since he knew the area well, Brett had filled him in on all there was to do in the area: air-boating, visiting the Seminole and Miccosukee reservations, and checking out the museums at the Seminole Hard Rock in Hollywood, Florida, and in Big Cypress.

 

He’d realized then that he’d been talking purely to fill time, and that it was after 1:00 a.m. and he needed to go. He rose, but once again Meg spoke up. “Unless you can’t sleep without your own pillow, it’s crazy for you to leave. We’ll only be heading out again in a few hours.”

 

He thought about the emptiness of his place, something he hadn’t really even noticed until these past few days—with Lara. His life certainly wasn’t bad. He liked the people he worked with, and they all enjoyed a lot of the same things. Watching the local teams—the Heat, the Dolphins and the Marlins—play. Fishing. Boating. Diving. Camping in the Keys, the occasional weekend in the Bahamas.

 

But there was really nothing for him at home. Ichabod probably only came over to give him a mercy meow or two.

 

Lara was looking at him with those eyes that seemed both as blue as the sky and as green as the sea. “I wish you would stay. I should say the more the merrier, but frankly, the more agents running around with guns, the safer I feel,” she said.

 

She was trying to sound flip. Maybe she saw his hesitation.

 

“I’ll get pillows and pull out the sofa,” she told him, taking the decision into her own hands.

 

“No need. I’m fine with it the way it is,” he said.

 

“Don’t argue with me,” she said with a smile. “It’s no trouble, and I want you to be comfortable.”

 

“And honestly, I can be comfortable sitting in a chair,” he said.

 

“Great, the kids are all in for the night. I’m going to bed,” Meg said.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Matt said. “I’ll go make sure the gate’s locked, then I’m heading to bed, too. Good night, all.”

 

Alone with Lara, Brett felt suddenly awkward. For several long, awkward moments they both sat without speaking.

 

“Can I get you anything else?” Lara finally asked.

 

“No, thank you.”

 

“I guess we should get some sleep,” she said.

 

“Yes, I guess we should.”

 

But neither of them moved.

 

“I think I owe you an apology,” Lara murmured.

 

“Why’s that?” he asked.

 

“I really didn’t want you to go,” she said. “But I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“Scare me?”

 

She was wearing a light summer dress; her legs were bare and tucked beneath her, looking longer and sleeker than they had any right to be. Her hair played around her shoulders like spun gold in the lamplight.

 

She smiled. “I kind of came on to you last night.”

 

“Did you?” he asked. “I was taught never to assume.”

 

“And what were you trying not to assume?”

 

“What were you asking?”

 

She flushed and looked away, picking up her glass, which held an inch of soda and some ice chips. He’d never seen anyone swirl a glass with more sensuality before.

 

“Well, Agent Cody, call me crazy. I guess I’m the one making assumptions now, but I was thinking of sex.”

 

“With me?”

 

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous. Yes. With you.”

 

“You and me?” he asked.

 

“Yes, I think that identifies the situation exactly.”

 

He stood, walked over to her and took the glass from her hand. “I thought you’d never ask. It would be my most absolute and total pleasure.”

 

He set the glass down and took her hands, then pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

 

“Oh, Agent Cody, now you are assuming,” she said with a smile.

 

“No, I’m quite positive I’ve got it right,” he assured her.

 

He tightened his arms around her and brought his mouth down on hers. She seemed to melt into him, her body molding perfectly to his, sending a searing longing ripping through him. Their first kiss was hard, desperate, all liquid heat and dueling tongues. When they finally pulled apart he started to sweep her up in his arms, ready to carry her upstairs, knocking over everything in their path, completely forgetting for the moment that there were other people in the house.

 

She remembered, though, and stepped back. “I’ll walk up the stairs under my own power—no, I’ll run!” And then she was gone.

 

He was right on her heels.

 

 

 

 

 

12

 

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