you. It was called ‘A Well Hung Commander-In-Chief.’ Apparently they talked to some of the women I dated before I got married.” Zack sighed. “I can’t date now. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t manage it. The press would be all over the poor woman. I wouldn’t put any female through the daily grind of being the president’s girlfriend. It’s better this way. I can focus on the job.”
“You can focus when you haven’t had sex in . . . what, a couple of years? I think I’d go a little crazy,” Connor admitted.
“I can’t have the woman I want, so what’s the point?” Zack sat back.
Gabe was fairly certain he wasn’t talking about his wife. He’d seen Zack and Joy together. They’d been more like friends and partners than ardent lovers. He certainly hadn’t sensed any passion in their political marriage. She’d come from a wealthy family and possessed a graciousness that won Zack as many votes as his policies. But when Zack and Liz occupied the same room, electricity arced between them, strong and palpable.
Kind of like the electricity Gabe felt between him and Eve. Lovely, sexy Eve.
“Well, I think we should talk about who’s taking home Little Miss ‘I Saw Her First,’” Dax said with a shit-eating grin.
“Someone called dibs?” Connor asked, proving that even a super spy could sound like a goofy teenager under the right circumstances.
Back when they’d been kids, the girls were few and far between, since they’d attended an all-boys school. When they’d found themselves in the presence of a female, they’d taken to calling dibs. It was silly and juvenile, but he freaking had dibs on Eve.
“I was just talking to a woman at the bar,” Gabe explained. “She was having trouble getting a drink, so I helped her out.”
“Did she lose the drink in her breasts?” Dax asked. “Because you seemed to be trying to find it there with your stare.”
“Asshat. She was just a nice woman.” With a great rack. “She’s definitely not the next ex–Mrs. Spencer.”
Gabe wondered what she was doing now. It was getting late. He’d been back here with the guys longer than twenty minutes, so she’d probably already left, likely on her way home to Brooklyn. He hadn’t even gotten her last name. A tragic oversight on his part.
Roman was frowning down at his phone. “Motherfucker. Okay, Connor, I need you to figure out who’s running Capitol Scandals and assassinate him.”
“I’m an analyst,” Connor began. “I don’t do assassinations. What did the loudmouth write now?”
Roman squared his jaw, his lips thinning in a sure sign of anger. “He’s claiming Maddox was murdered.”
The knot that had been sitting in Gabe’s gut for days tightened. “What proof does that prick have?”
Roman scrolled down the screen of his phone, scanning the text. “He claims he has an inside source. I don’t know if that’s the FAA, NTSB, or someone else. Damn it, I hate this. I fucking hate this.” His phone hit the wall with a violent thud.
Grief. It sat there, a tightrope connecting them all. They could laugh and joke and pretend everything was normal, but Maddox was dead, and a piece of them had been ripped away forever. It was another reminder that their childhood was gone.
“I’ll look into it.” Connor put a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I haven’t taken a vacation in years, so I’ve accrued tons of time off. I’m taking it now. Since I’m off the clock, I’ll figure out who the source is and shut them down.”
“Shut down the whole fucking site. They’re vultures.” Roman’s head fell back, and he took a long breath. When he brought it back up, his eyes were infinitely tired. “Sorry. It’s been a long week.”
Since Gabe had gotten the news, it seemed as though time had slowed to an unbearable crawl. The idea that now they would have to hear conspiracy theories about Mad’s death played out in the media for months weighed him down. “His plane crashed. Are they saying someone caused it?”
Zack stood and reached for the bottle of vodka he’d ordered. “They’re flashing salacious headlines to grow their readership. You have to ignore it. I promise I’ll get in touch when the FAA report comes in.” He poured a shot. “Come on, guys. I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to go. Let’s not waste it on things we can’t control.”
Zack was right. There was nothing they could do about any of it tonight, just like Gabe couldn’t fix the mess his sister was in. And he couldn’t change the fact that Mad was gone and he felt hollow inside. He could, however, honor his friend.
Gabe held up his glass. “To Mad.”
They all raised their drinks.
“Za ná-shoo dróo-zhboo,” Zack said in a perfect Russian accent, his vodka held high.
To our friendship. Zack had spent seven years with his parents in Moscow. His father had been the U.S. ambassador, so Zack had learned the language fluently as a kid.
Gabe remembered the first time they’d snuck out of the dorms and gathered in the groundskeeper’s shed. Mad had filched a bottle of bourbon from the headmaster, and they’d all taken shots. And Zack had said those same words in Russian. To our friendship.
A bittersweet moment passed as they drank, that memory fresh in Gabe’s mind because one of them was missing—and would be forever.
“No more of that,” Dax said, putting his glass down. “Mad would be horrified to know we’re getting emotional. Now let’s talk about how we’re going to get Gabe laid tonight because I, for one, think he needs it.”
The last thing he needed was his friends thinking he needed help getting sex. “Not happening, guys. Do you think I’ve forgotten the incident a few years back?”
“I know you forgot it.” Roman stood and stretched. “You couldn’t possibly remember after everything you had to drink that night.”
“I woke up in Jersey with three women who swear I asked them to marry me. I snuck out when they started pulling each other’s hair. That catfight saved me. No, thanks. I’ll find my own dates.”
His twenties really had been interesting. His thirties . . . not so much. Since his father had passed, he’d lost himself in responsibility, and now he’d give just about anything for a few hours without thinking of all the people relying on him. Was asking for an evening of guilty pleasure really too much?
“You found a date, then left her? You’re off your game, man,” Dax ribbed.
“Do you mean the chick with the strawberry-blond hair I saw you talking to earlier? Because if not, then I totally call dibs.” Roman was standing at the door, peeking around the corner. “Damn. That girl is hot. She’s got some curves on her, unlike most of the other ladies here. Does no woman in this town eat cheeseburgers?”
Eve was still here? Gabe got to his feet and strode across the small room. He’d been sure she would be gone. He followed Roman’s line of sight.
She was sitting alone now, pulling out her wallet. She looked around the bar as though searching for someone. When her pretty hazel eyes found his, they flared briefly, but then she suddenly seemed to find the table deeply interesting.
“Oh, you need to hit that.” Roman elbowed him. “I’d sure like to.”
Gabe stepped back, returning to his seat. He was in a bad place and he’d be using her to forget his troubles. It wasn’t fair. “I can’t use my best friend’s funeral to get laid.”
Zack stared at him as if he’d lost his damn mind. “We’re talking about Mad. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for an orgy to be held over his casket.”
Gabe couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, he left a hooker fund—twenty grand—for any of us who happened to be single at the time of his death and in need of temporary solace.”
Gabe didn’t want a hooker. He wanted Eve, and she was about to walk out the door. Maybe if he was honest about what he wanted, she wouldn’t be hurt. Maybe she’d come here for a drink because she needed something, too.
All he knew was he would regret it forever if he let her walk out.
He grabbed his jacket. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Treat the lady right, Gabriel,” Dax said with a grin.
He intended to. He hoped he could convince her to give him a chance because suddenly nothing seemed more important than spending the rest of the night with her.
• • •
It really was time to head home. Everly wasn’t sure why she hadn’t left when Scott had. That wasn’t exactly true. She knew what she was waiting for, or more specifically, whom. She simply wasn’t sure why.
She dragged out the necessary cash to pay her bill. Scott had found the courage to talk to his crush. He’d left with Harry from accounting thirty minutes earlier. It was already dark, and she needed to get home. Instead, she’d sat around, nursing her drink and hoping for another glimpse of Gabriel.
Now she wished she’d left sooner. He’d caught her staring. Of course, he’d been with a friend. The minute his gaze had found hers, she’d put her head down. When she looked back up, he’d been gone.
Was he waiting for her to leave? He might think she was some kind of creepy female stalker. If he was an actor or someone famous, he might have to deal with adoration from strangers constantly. It was definitely past time to exit. She just lacked the check. And damn it, there was never a waitress around when she needed one.
She glanced at her cell while she waited and found a text. The number came up as unknown.
I have the info about Crawford’s death I promised in my e-mail. I’ll contact you with a date and time to meet. Don’t tell anyone. Come alone.
A chill zipped through her. She wanted to believe the person contacting her was some whacked-out loon, but she’d received that mysterious, very lucid e-mail yesterday suggesting that she check into Maddox Crawford’s activities in the days before his murder. Not his unfortunate accident or his death. His murder. When she’d tried to trace the source, she’d come up with an e-mail sent from an anonymous account, the type anyone could grab off free mail sites. She needed more information to be able to track the person down.
If he wasn’t a deranged creep then . . . what? A sick jerk playing a prank on her? A vindictive coworker trying to trip her up to prove she couldn’t do her job? A creepy reporter fishing for a story? Or someone really trying to give her vital information about Maddox? Everly thought through the angles. The latter seemed far-fetched . . . but not impossible. She couldn’t brush it off. Since getting tipsy apparently wasn’t on her agenda tonight, as soon as she made it back to her loft, she’d start digging. Everly owed Maddox at least that much.
Part of her wanted to text the mysterious bastard back and ask what he was up to. But she needed to be smarter. If inquiries with her cell provider didn’t net her any information . . . well, she knew a few tricks to hack her way into obtaining phone numbers. This jerk could try to hide, but she had ways to peel back the layers and find the truth.
She shoved her phone into her purse and stood. Pay the bill. Get home. Start investigating. Maybe try to sleep. Her stomach growled. She should probably eat first, but she definitely wasn’t going to hang around and look like she waited desperately for Gabriel.
Everly marched to the bar. “I need my bill, please.”
Shockingly, the bartender stopped. “It’s already been taken care of. Thank the gentleman in the suit there.”
She turned in the direction of the bartender’s gesture, and there stood Gabriel. His tie was slightly undone and his hair was mussed as though he’d run a hand through it. He was just as stunning to her senses as he’d been before.
As he approached, Everly had no doubt this man could make her tingle from head to toe. “Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It’s much quieter out here than before.” He glanced around the now half-empty bar. “What happened to your friend?”
“He left with someone else.”
His grin nearly took her breath away. “Did he find someone to spend the night with?”
“I’m sure he’s hoping so, though I’m not convinced that guy plays for his team.”
Was this stranger flirting? Why was she flirting back? She should stop. He was too good-looking and obviously rich. All she could boast was a decent loft in Brooklyn, one she would no longer be able to afford if she lost her job. She could be out on the streets in weeks.
Ugh, wasn’t she a bright ray of sunshine?
“So, where did your friend go?” she asked.
He glanced back toward the VIP room. “That party broke up. Everyone had to get home. But I was thinking about staying up for a while. What are your plans tonight, Eve?”
That was a loaded question. Her current plan included going to a lonely apartment where she could worry about her future and try to figure out if someone had murdered her friend. She could be alone with her fear and doubt . . . but she didn’t really want to. “I was getting ready to leave. What about you?”
“So was I. I thought I’d get some dinner before I called it a night. I don’t think the food here is going to be any good. Giovanni’s is one block over. Italian might be nice. I can promise you won’t have any trouble getting a glass of wine there.”
“You’re asking me out?” It was a little surreal. She saw much more attractive women still in the bar. Why had he chosen her? Maybe he liked a curvier girl. Some guys did.
His face settled into a polite mask. “I don’t know that I would call it a date.”
“What would you call it, then?”
He stepped closer, into her personal space. “Eve, I want to be honest with you.”
Eve. She wasn’t Everly to Gabriel. Which meant that he didn’t expect her to be a good, polite girl. She didn’t have to be shy about what she wanted.
She stood a bit taller and met his beautiful blue eyes. She could see the five-o’clock shadow darkening his jaw and wondered what it would feel like to brush her fingertips over his face, to run her thumb across that full bottom lip of his. “Honesty is good.”
She wasn’t being entirely honest with him, but it didn’t matter. They were sharing a moment out of time. She wouldn’t see him again. She didn’t even know his last name.
“I’m looking for an escape tonight. I can find it in the bottom of a bottle or I can take you out of here and try to make us both feel good. Why don’t you let me buy you dinner and plead my case?”
He was asking her to sleep with him. A one-night stand. She’d never had one. She’d slept with two men in her whole life, and they’d both been her boyfriends. Sex had been all right, but something about the look in Gabriel’s eyes told her this would be far better.
He wanted to escape. She wasn’t sure from what, but she glimpsed a world of worries and sorrow in his expression that drew her. She understood loss and longing. She knew what it meant to need a few hours of escape. Hadn’t she been wanting that herself?
A single memory pierced her in that moment. Two days before he died, Maddox had shaken his head over her nonexistent dating life. He’d tried to persuade her to let him set her up on a blind date, but she’d said she didn’t have time. She’d needed to get some reports done and go through the purchase orders on the new hard drives and security systems. He’d rolled those piercing eyes of his.
You need to live a little. Your whole life can’t be spent behind a computer screen. Life is often about taking risks. Sometimes you have to leave yourself to figure out who you really are.
She didn’t have to be herself. Not tonight.
“Kiss me.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She was never bold or brazen when it came to men. She’d never demanded anything sexually of a lover, but she wanted Gabriel to kiss her. She wanted to see if that spark she felt translated to something truly physical.
She expected some discussion, and when he hesitated, she was more than willing to admit that she’d been hasty. Everly was about to shake her head and try to laugh the incident off when he cupped her face and his body brushed hers. He tilted her head up and his mouth descended.
Soft. His lips were soft on hers. Gentle. He moved with pre
datory grace. His fingers sank into her hair, and her hands seemed to naturally find the lean muscles at his waist. Even through his crisp dress shirt, she could feel the heat of his body. It practically poured off him and into her, warming her skin and making her come to life.
He was gentle, but Everly knew precisely who was in charge. His lips locked onto hers, leading her. A little tug on her hair told her which way he wanted her to move.
Everything about him—scent, taste, feel—made her melt. She forgot where she was, forgot that they were in public. The noise of the bar receded until all she could hear was her own heart beating furiously in her ears. Nothing mattered at all but the feel of his body under her hands, the masterful way he moved her.
“Is that what you wanted, Eve?” He breathed the words against her mouth. “You wanted to see if I can kiss? I can give you more. I don’t simply want to kiss your lips. I want to strip you down and find out if you’re as sweet and soft everywhere as you look. I want to run my tongue over your skin until I memorize how you