He touches a finger against my lips. “Don’t force it. You’re not in a race, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I grip his hand and lace our fingers together between us. “You’re okay with this? Starting over and dating and stuff?”
“Stuff?” He casts me a smoldering look. “I’m interested in hearing more about that.”
“I mean it, Trace. Where’s your head at on all of this?”
“The situation is less than ideal, but it’s a hell of a lot better than you starting over without me.” His mouth twitches, and he nudges his thigh between mine, inching us closer. “I can handle the competition.”
I wish his confidence would rub off on me, because I’m feeling pretty sucky about my indecisiveness. “Who were you with before you came home tonight?”
His eyes darken. “Cole.”
All that time? And they didn’t kill each other? My curiosity is wildly piqued as I try to picture them hanging out together. “Where were you guys? For hours?”
“In my office.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking.”
“No more curt answers, dammit. What did you talk about?”
“Things.” His eyes glimmer.
I groan. “You’re infuriating.”
“You’re stunning.” He kisses my bottom lip and slowly draws it into his mouth.
“Stop flirting.” I pull back, fighting my grin. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He clutches my thigh beneath the oversized shirt and tightens our hips together. “You’re seriously breathtaking.”
“Thank you.” Basking in his compliment, I snuggle closer against his hard body and try to remember what we were discussing. Oh, right. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but the two most important people in my life worked together, used to be best friends, and I just…I want to understand more about your relationship. It’s important to me.”
He plays with my hair absently, and his eyes lose focus for a few seconds before clearing and latching onto mine. “Before I was his handler, I was an operative, like him.”
I perk up, lifting on an elbow. “An operative? I don’t know what that is.”
“It’ll stay that way. Don’t go searching on the Internet. You won’t find answers, but someone will know you’re digging.”
“Someone?” A chill sweeps across my scalp. “The government? Are they watching me?”
“The government watches everyone. Especially those who are linked to people like Cole and me.” He rests a hand on my cheek and strokes his thumb across my lips, back and forth. “We were in the field together, inseparable for a few years on several missions. When you’re with someone like that, doing what we did, you get to know them on a level I can’t explain. You trust him with your weaknesses, your fears, your…life. You become brothers.”
His throat bounces, and his entire expression hardens. I wrap my hand around his and bring it to my mouth, kissing his knuckles, one by one.
As his ruminating silence lingers, everything inside me goes still, silently urging him to continue. But I force myself to be patient.
He doesn’t make me wait long. “I was offered a promotion to be his handler.”
“Like his boss?”
“Yes, I was his boss, but it’s different than what you think. It’s a relationship built on trust. I guided him through every operation, and he trusted me not to get him killed.”
“Guide him how?” I strain toward him, tense with the need for answers. “I know you can’t give away trade secrets, but I keep imagining him killing people, like an assassin. Surely, you can tell me if I’m on the right track.”
Grooves form across his brow, as if he’s considering his response. “It isn’t a secret that gathering information plays a significant role in national security.”
“Like secret intelligence? Cole was an intel guy?”
His lips quirk in a smile that says, Aren’t you cute? “Sometimes the only goal in a mission is to retrieve a piece of information. Sometimes it takes years.”
“Information from who? An enemy?”
“An enemy, informant, defector, or from our own internal agencies. I’m generalizing here, but there are those who make the laws, and those who enforce the laws on the law-makers.”
“Jesus. That sounds sneaky. And dangerous.” My heart speeds up as I search his flinty eyes. “But you can’t steal information by donning a ski mask and breaking and entering. It takes finesse, right? If you’re spending years on a single mission…”
…had to change my appearance, assume another alias, and stay far, far away from you…
My eyes go wide with realization. “It’s undercover work, isn’t it?”
“Processes and style of operation are off-limit topics. I haven’t given you classified information, but some of the terms I used might raise flags if you repeat them.”
“I won’t.”
“Not to Bree or your parents—”
“I promise, Trace.” I lower to the pillow and lean my face to his. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
It’s far more than Cole gave me, and now I have a clearer understanding of the job they did. I lean back, studying Trace’s relaxed expression.
Suspicion creeps in. Why is he telling me this now?
He and Cole are at war. I don’t put it past either one of them to leverage every angle they have to one-up each other. And Trace just gifted me something Cole wouldn’t. Candidness. Is it just a play in his game? I hate thinking that way, and maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am.
I run my fingers through his hair. “What did you and Cole discuss tonight?”
His nostrils flare. “You already know the answer to that.”
Me, probably. “I don’t want to assume. Will you tell me?”
“He spouted threats. I returned some of my own. Now we’re on the same page.”
“What kind of threats?”
“Danni—”
“Please?”
“Death threats.” He blows out a breath. “I’ll admit his were more creative than mine. But the one about my mother…”
I narrow my eyes. “What did he say?”
“If I put my dick in you again, he’ll skin me alive, dry my hide in the sun, and use it as a condom to fuck my mother’s corpse.”
My body goes cold, my voice a horrified whisper. “He did not say that.”
“He was pretty fired up when that one slipped out.”
“Oh my God.” I roll to my back and glare at the ceiling. “And you made threats on his life, too?”
“Yes.” A steadfast response, shameless in its delivery. “If he has sex with you—”
I whirl toward him, mouth gaping. “You can’t kill each other.
“Sure, we can. But we won’t.” He frames my face in his hands. “We won’t do that to you.” His eyes flicker. “I’ll just pound the ever-loving hell out of him.”
“No, you will not.”
He laughs without smiling. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve beaten each other to near death over the years.”
“When? Before you met me?”
“Yeah.” His lips twist with a sinister delight. “He’s a stubborn son of a bitch. Sometimes the only way to set him straight is to break his ugly face.”
“You did that when you were friends?”
He shrugs.
My stomach cramps. “That’s fucked up.”
“Ready to change the subject?”
“Definitely.”