Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)



Connor swiped a hand over his jaw and checked the urge to call Erin’s cell phone. She’d left the surveillance van ten minutes ago to get coffee for the team. How long did it take? It had only been one day since he bought her the phone, but she still assumed it was someone else’s phone every time it rang. They were working on it. He’d offered to go in her stead, but suspected she needed the breathing room. With six of them crammed into the back of the van, he could tell she’d felt claustrophobic. Not to mention, he’d needed the opportunity to catch Derek’s ear. This shit with Erin’s stepfather would be straightened out immediately. Tonight. But if the unexpected happened and something went wrong, he needed to make sure Erin would be okay.

His plan had been to pay a visit to Luther last night, but she’d distracted him. If he’d suspected she was doing it on purpose, he would have called her on it. But no, she’d been…glowing. Walking around the apartment in one of his old Yankees T-shirts, feeling her way through mundane tasks like they were new experiences. Cooking dinner, taking a shower. All things she had done before, but there was a noticeable difference. Her edginess had fled, to be replaced with wonder and optimism. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t have pried himself away if he wanted to. He’d appeased himself with the reasoning that nothing could happen to her as long as he was there to protect her.

After they’d showered off the day and changed, he’d lain down on the couch. He’d pretended not to see her watching him thoughtfully from her perch on the kitchen counter. After a minute, she’d hopped down and prowled toward him quietly, so light on her feet he wouldn’t have heard her approaching if every cell in his body wasn’t acutely attuned to her. She’d looked so young and fresh with her damp hair and bare legs, his throat had hurt. Very slowly, she’d climbed over him on the couch and settled in against him, tucking her feet between his calves. He swore he’d held his breath as she relaxed little by little, sighing into his chest.

Yeah, they might have slept in the same bed before, but there had been a note of tension. Worry over how she would cope. Anxiety that he’d wake up and find her having a panic attack. This had been different. Simple human contact that would have been anything but simple weeks ago. She not only trusted him, she trusted herself, and it was extraordinary to watch. Of course, he’d only managed about twenty minutes of her mouthwatering curves nestled against his before reversing their positions and tonguing her * through three sobbing climaxes. Hearing her cry out that she loved him had made it a thousand times sweeter, because he knew she meant it.

He took that love seriously. It was precious and hard-won and no one would fuck with it. This morning he’d walked into the kitchen and found her drinking a cup of orange juice at the table. She’d had her game face back on and he knew. She was going to try to talk him out of meeting with her stepfather. Even though he’d known they would butt heads over it eventually, he’d hated the idea of shattering the atmosphere between them. So when Derek had called to tell them they were needed, he’d found himself relieved to put off the inevitable a little longer.

Sera had been working at campaign headquarters for a week now, but Stark had never made an appearance. The previous day, she’d managed a peek at his assistant’s appointment book that heralded Stark’s arrival today at lunchtime. Which is why Bowen sat beside him white-faced, leg bouncing a thousand miles per hour. Connor suspected he was mostly there to make sure Bowen didn’t try to make a break for it, intent on retrieving his new wife and heading off into the sunset. They still had about twenty minutes until Stark was set to arrive. Erin would be back any minute, and he needed to talk with the team first. He didn’t trust easily, didn’t like discussing their private business with other people, but he’d learned something from Erin when she’d gone missing. Learned how to close his eyes and take a leap of faith once in a while. Not to mention, each of them had gone out of their way to help him find Erin. He wouldn’t forget that. But they didn’t know the full story. As usual, he’d gone solo the final day she’d been gone, starting his own mission.

“Erin’s stepfather bought a house in Chicago.” He scrubbed a hand over his beard. “He left a forwarding address at the Motel 6. It’s how I found Erin.”

Polly paused in the act of filing her nails.

Beside her, Austin only spared him a glance before going back to studying Polly with a slight frown on his face. “What of it, mate?”