Beautiful Redemption (Maddox Brothers #2) Page 12

  His cell phone rang, and when he noticed the name on the display, his entire demeanor changed. His eyebrows pulled in, and he sighed.

  “Hey,” Thomas said, his face tight. He let go of my hand and looked away. “I told you I would. I, uh…” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “I can’t. My flight doesn’t land until an hour prior to Trav’s arrival at the hotel. Okay…tell me what?”

  Thomas looked down, and his shoulders sagged. “You are? That’s great,” he said, failing to cover the devastation in his voice. “Uh, no, I understand. No, Trent, I get it. It’s okay. Yeah, I’m happy for you. I am. Okay. All right. See you then.”

  Thomas pressed End and then let the phone fall to his lap. He held the steering wheel with both hands, his grip twisting so hard that his knuckles turned white.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay. Well…I’ll be in my office if you change your mind.”

  Just as I reached for the lever, Thomas grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to him, his amazingly soft lips melting against mine. Everything around us blurred, and I was transported back to the night we’d met—the desperate hands, his tongue deep in my mouth, his blazing hot sweaty skin against mine.

  When he finally let me go, I grieved. Even though it had been my lips against his, when we’d parted, I was still left with that awful feeling.

  “Damn it, Liis. I’m sorry,” he said, looking just as shocked as I was.

  I was breathing slow but deep, still leaned in a bit.

  “I know you don’t want a relationship,” he said, angry with himself. “But I’ll be goddamned if I can’t stay away from you.”

  “I can relate,” I said, smoothing my hair away from my face. “Trent?” I asked, nodding to his cell phone.

  He looked down and then back at me. “Yeah.”

  “What did he say that upset you?”

  Thomas hesitated, clearly not wanting to answer. “He was talking to me about Travis’s bachelor party.”

  “And?”

  “He’s the entertainment.”

  “So?”

  Thomas shifted nervously. “He, uh…has a deal with Camille.” He shook his head. “A while back, she agreed to marry him if he did something crazy and embarrassing. He’s going to do it at Trav’s party, and then he’s…” His eyes fell. He looked heartbroken. “He’s going to ask Camille to marry him.”

  “Your ex.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “The one you’re still in love with. And then you kiss me to stop thinking about it?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. It was a shit thing to do.”

  My first reaction was to be angry. But how could I be angry when kissing him was all I’d thought about since we met? And how could I be jealous? The woman he loved would very soon be engaged, and he’d practically just given his blessing. All of that logic did me no good. I was envious of a woman I’d never met and who would never be with Thomas. I couldn’t be mad at him, but I was furious with myself.

  I pulled at the lever. “Squad Five is meeting at three.”

  “Liis,” he called after me.

  I walked away as fast as my heels would allow, all the way to the elevator.

  The doors closed behind me, and I stood in silence as the numbers climbed. People got on and off—agents, assistants, city leaders—all speaking in hushed tones, if they spoke at all.

  When the doors opened on the seventh floor, I stepped out and tried to hurry past Marks’s office. He was always early, and Val was usually in his office, chatting. I snuck by his open door, hearing Val’s voice, and quickly slipped through the security doors. I walked around the corner of the first cubicle, passed another two, and then ducked into my office, closing the door.

  I sat in my throne and turned my back to the wall of windows, and I stared at my bookshelf and the view of the city below. I heard a knock but ignored it, and then someone put a file in the holder on my door, leaving me alone. I let the high back of the chair conceal me from the squad room, and I twisted the long black strands of my hair around my finger, thinking about the kiss, the night before, and every time I’d been alone with Thomas since I met him.

  He was still in love with Camille. I didn’t understand, and worse, I wasn’t sure of my feelings either. I knew that I cared for him. If I were being honest, that was a gross understatement. The way my body responded to his presence was addictive and impossible to ignore. I wanted Thomas in a way that I’d never felt for Jackson.

  Is it worth the mess it might make at work? Is it worth the mess he could make of me?

  I pulled my hair out of my mouth after realizing I had been chewing on it. I hadn’t done that since I was a girl. Thomas was my neighbor and my boss. It was illogical and unreasonable to attempt to be anything more, and if I wanted to stay in control of the situation, I had to surrender to that fact.

  My door swung open.

  “Liis?”

  It was Thomas.

  I slowly turned around and sat up straight. The anguish in his eyes was unbearable. He was being pulled in two directions just like I was.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You’re not the one I’m mad at.”

  He shut the door and walked over to one of the club chairs before sitting down. He leaned down, putting his elbows on the edge of my desk. “That was totally out of line. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “You had a moment. I get it.”

  He stared at me, rattled by my answer. “You’re not a moment, Liis.”

  “I have a set goal that I am determined to achieve. Any feelings I might have for you won’t get in the way of those goals. Sometimes, you make me forget, but I always come back to the original plan—a plan that doesn’t include a significant other.”

  He let my words simmer for a bit. “Is that what happened with you and Jackson? He didn’t fit into your guidelines for the future?”

  “This isn’t about Jackson.”

  “You don’t talk about him much.” He sat back.

  Shit. I didn’t want to get into this conversation with him.

  “That’s because I don’t need to.”

  “Weren’t you engaged?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, huh? Didn’t shed a single tear?”

  “I don’t really…do that. I drink.”

  “Like that night at Cutter’s?”

  “Exactly like that night at Cutter’s. So, I guess we’re even.”

  Thomas’s mouth fell open, not even attempting to hide his wounded ego. “Wow. I guess so.”

  “Thomas, you of all people should understand. You were faced with the same decision when you were with Camille. You chose the Bureau, didn’t you?”

  “No,” he said, slighted. “I tried to hang on to both.”

  I sat back and clasped my hands together. “And how did that work out for you?”

  “I don’t like this side of you.”

  “That’s unfortunate. From now on, this is the only side you’re going to get.” I stared him straight in the eyes, unwavering.

  Thomas began to speak, but someone knocked on the door and pushed it open.

  “Agent Lindy?” a smooth but high-toned voice came from the hall.

  “Yes?” I said, recognizing Constance standing in the doorway.

  “You had a visitor downstairs. I brought him up.”

  Before I had the chance to wonder who on earth would be visiting, Jackson Schultz walked around Constance and stood in my doorway.

  “Oh. My. God,” I whispered.

  Jackson was in a French-blue button-down shirt and patterned tie. The only times I’d seen him look so well dressed was the night he proposed and at Agent Gregory’s funeral. The hue of his shirt set off his azure eyes. They used to be my favorite thing about him, but in that moment, I could only notice that they were as round as his face. Jackson had always been fit, but his smoothly sha
ved head made him appear more portly than he was.

  The longer we had been together, the more his less appealing features and habits had grown noticeable—the way he’d suck food through his teeth after a meal; lean to the side when he passed gas, even in public; or not always wash his hands after he had been in the restroom for half an hour. Even the three deep wrinkles where his skull met his neck made me cringe.

  “Who the hell are you?” Thomas asked.

  “Jackson Schultz, Chicago SWAT. Who the hell are you?”

  I stood up. “Special Agent Maddox is San Diego’s ASAC.”

  “Maddox?” Jackson laughed once, unimpressed.

  “Yes, as in the asshole who runs this place.” Thomas looked to Constance. “We’re in a meeting.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Constance said, not looking sorry at all.

  She didn’t fool me. She’d told Thomas what kind of coffee to buy, and once she’d learned Jackson was in the building, she’d swiftly escorted him to my office to remind her boss that he had competition. I wasn’t sure whether to strangle her or laugh, but it was clear that she cared about Thomas, and it was nice to know she thought well enough of me to push him in my direction.

  “Agent Maddox, we were just wrapping up, weren’t we?” I asked.

  Thomas looked at me and then back to Jackson. “No. Agent Schultz can wait the fuck outside. Constance?”

  One corner of her mouth turned up. “Yes, sir. Agent Schultz, if you’ll just follow me.”

  Jackson kept his eyes on me while he followed Constance until they were both out of sight.

  I narrowed my eyes at Thomas. “That was unnecessary.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was visiting?” Thomas barked.

  “Do you really think I knew?”

  His shoulders relaxed. “No.”

  “The quicker you allow him in here, the quicker he’ll leave.”

  “I don’t want him here.”

  “Stop.”

  “What?” Thomas snapped, pretending to stare at the various photographs and Post-its on my wall or the bookshelf or neither.

  “You’re being childish,” I said.

  He lowered his chin to glower at me. “Get rid of him.” He kept his voice low.

  In the recent past, I might have been intimidated, but Thomas Maddox didn’t scare me anymore. I wasn’t sure that he ever had.

  “You made such a big deal of me being jealous last night. You know I left him and have zero interest, and look at you.”

  He pointed at the door. “You think I’m jealous of Mr. Clean? You’re fucking joking, right?”

  “We both know you’re too fucked up in there”—I pointed to my own head—“to worry about my ex-fiancé or about me in general.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You’re still in love with her!” I said too loud.

  Every member of Squad Five present in the squad room leaned forward or back in their chairs to watch through the glass wall of my office. Thomas walked over and lowered the blinds for one section and then the other, and then he shut the door.

  He frowned. “What does that have to do with anything? I can’t like you and still love her?”

  “Do you? Like me?”

  “No, I just asked you on a date because I enjoy being shot down.”

  “You asked me to dinner right before you had a meltdown. You’re not over her, Maddox.”

  “There you go with the Maddox again.”

  “You’re not over her,” I said, hating the sadness in my voice. “And I have goals.”

  “You’ve mentioned that.”

  “Then, we agree that it’s pointless.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” I asked, embarrassed about the tinge of panic in my voice.

  “I’m not going to push it. If I get over Camille and you get over your…thing…we’ll reconvene.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “You weren’t just saying that to Constance. We were really having a meeting.”

  “So?”

  “This isn’t something you can outline, Thomas. You can’t tell me how it’s going to go down, and we’re not going to reconvene about progress. That’s not how it works.”

  “It’s how we work.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

  “Maybe, but we’re the same, Liis. That’s why it didn’t work out with other people. I’m not going to let you run away, and you’re not going to put up with my shit. We can think about whether or not it’s efficient to be together until we retire, or we can just accept it now. The fact is, we plan things, we organize, we control.”

  I swallowed.

  Thomas pointed to the wall. “Before you, I was a lonely workaholic, and even though you had someone, so were you. But you and I can make this work. It makes complete sense for us to be together. When you tell Mr. Ninja out there to kick rocks, let me know, and I’ll take you to dinner. Then, I’m going to kiss you again and not because I’m distraught.”

  I swallowed. I tried to keep my voice from wavering as I said, “Good. It’s a little disconcerting to be kissed when you’re distraught over another woman.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Make sure that it doesn’t.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He opened the door, walked through, and closed it.

  I fell into my chair, taking deep breaths to calm myself. What the hell just happened?

  “HI,” JACKSON SAID FROM THE LOVE SEAT in the small waiting area down the hall. He stood, towering over me. “You look beautiful. California looks good on you.”

  I tilted my head to the side, offering an appreciative grin. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

  He looked down. “I know.”

  “How are your parents?”

  “Dad just got over a cold. Mom swore that if I brought you flowers, you’d change your mind.”

  I pulled my mouth to the side. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Jackson followed me to the elevator. I pushed the button for the first floor, and we rode in silence.

  When the doors slid open again, the lobby was bustling with activity. First thing in the morning, agents were either coming in or leaving to conduct interviews, to go to the courthouse, or to do the hundreds of other tasks that fell in the spectrum of our duties. Visitors were getting checked in, and a small group of junior high children were beginning a tour.

  We walked together toward the backside of the building, and I pushed open the double doors that led to the courtyard. Nestled between the two buildings was a beautiful sitting area with patio furniture, river rocks, patches of green fescue, and a monument for fallen agents. I’d always wanted to spend a few minutes there to gather my thoughts or just sit in the quiet, but between lunch dates with Val and fitness-room time with Thomas, I hadn’t really found a spare moment.

  Jackson sat in one of the cushioned wicker love seats. I stood in front of him, fidgeting. We didn’t speak for nearly a minute, and then I finally took a breath.

  “Why didn’t you call first?” I asked.

  “You would have told me not to come.” His voice was pitifully sad.

  “But you came anyway,” I said, squinting from the bright morning sun.

  When Jackson bent over and held his forehead in his hands, I was glad we were alone.

  I took a step back, afraid for a second that he might cry.

  “I haven’t been handling this well, Liisee. I haven’t been able to sleep or eat. I had a meltdown at work.”

  His nickname for me made me cringe. It wasn’t his fault. I’d never told him that I hated it. Seeing him so vulnerable when he was usually in command of his emotions made me uncomfortable, and my guilt compiled it tenfold.

  Jackson wasn’t a bad guy. But falling out of love with him had made everything he did grotesque to me, and the harder I’d tried to feel different, the more I couldn’t stand him.

  “Jackson, I’m at work. You can’t do this here.”

  He looked up at me. “I�
�m sorry. I just meant to ask you to lunch.”

  I sighed and sat next to him. “I hate that you’re hurting. I wish I felt different, but I…just don’t. I gave it a year, like I promised.”

  “But maybe if I—”

  “It’s nothing you did. It’s not even something you didn’t do. We just don’t work.”

  “You work for me.”

  I put my hand on his back. “I’m sorry. I really, truly am. But what we had is over.”

  “You don’t miss me at all?” he asked.

  His body was so much larger than mine that he shaded me from the sun.

  I remembered seeing him at training. The other female trainees had thought he was so attractive and sweet. And he was. After all their efforts to catch Jackson Schultz, I’d managed to catch him with no effort at all. He was attracted to confidence and brilliance, he’d said. And I had both.

  Here he was, begging me to want him, when he could walk out of here and make a number of women swoon, women who would love him and appreciate his bad habits along with the traits that I’d fallen in love with.

  After some hesitation, I decided the truth wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary. I simply shook my head.

  “Holy shit.” He laughed once without humor. “Did you move out here for someone? It’s not my business, I understand that, but I still gotta know.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “Well, my plane doesn’t leave until Wednesday. I guess there are worse places to be stuck.”

  “Can you change your flight?” I’d known before I asked that he wouldn’t.

  Not only was Jackson terrible at letting go, he was also completely helpless at things like changing a plane ticket, making reservations, or scheduling appointments. I was sure his mother had taken care of his travel arrangements for him to even come here.

  “The Top Gun bar is here. You’d really like it,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “That sounds pretty great.”

  “I’ll walk you out. I’m really…I’m just sorry, Jackson.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  I guided him across the lawn and back into the main building. He didn’t say a single word as we walked across the lobby and to the entrance.