Page 12 of Lifeline

He nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “The town car is new. Berisha usually drives around in an SUV. I’ll check the license plate tomorrow. We need to get tracking devices on all their vehicles.”

“You’re hoping one of them will lead us to the Bregu brothers?”

He nods again and brings us to a stop at a red light. His eyes flick to mine, and having his gaze on me feels more intense than ever now that I know what it feels like to be kissed by him.

Holy hotness. I’m so very screwed.

I force my smile to widen and inject a lighthearted tone into my voice. “Thanks for bringing me along. With a little bit of experience, I’ll get the hang of it.”

“If there’s a next time, you better bring coffee and snacks,” he mutters, but this time the usual sting accompanying his words is missing, and he doesn’t look as moody.

“Got it.”

O’Brien

My fucking heart stopped when JJ took the notepad and pen off my lap, her fingers brushing against my thigh, making my damn cock twitch.

It’s taking all my acting skills to hide how hot under the collar I am because of the kiss. I didn’t plan on adding tongue, but Troka and Idrizi walked right by the car, and I had to make it look real.

I’m impressed JJ just went with the flow, and even though it was a cover, having her tongue in my mouth was a rush that’s still simmering in my veins ten minutes later.

I’m highly aware of JJ, but I’m not picking up on any vibes coming from her. She’s relaxed as if I didn’t kiss her… or it didn’t affect her at all.

When disappointment settles in my stomach, it brings a frown to my face. I’ve only known her two days, and getting along is taking more work than I thought it would. Partly because I’m so fucking thrown by her, and partly because we’re still trying to get a read on each other.

Pulling up to her house, my eyes scan over the front yard. I turn off the engine, and after getting out of the Pontiac, which was the love of my dad’s life, JJ gives me a questioning look. “You don’t need to walk me to the door.”

Not-negotiable is written all over my face as I head by her and up the path. “I might not like being responsible for you, but it’s not going to stop me from doing my job.” Nodding at the door, I mutter, “Open.”

“You’re not responsible for me.” I’m given a scowl, or as close to one as she can get, because the damn innocent look she has going makes it no more aggressive than a puppy growling.

Needing to clear some of the tension between us, I ask, “I thought you wanted me to mentor you? Did you change your mind so quickly?”

JJ’s eyes widen on my face. “Are you saying yes?”

Tilting my head, the corner of my mouth lifts a little from the shocked expression she’s giving me. “You think I’d drag you around if it wasn’t the case?”

Sunshine explodes over her face, her smile radiant and fucking beautiful. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to learn as quickly as I can.”

“What did you learn tonight?”

“To give you your space.”

A chuckle actually slips from me. “Work-wise, Jefferson.”

“Don’t get distracted while on a stake-out.”

I nod at the door again, and when she unlocks it, I shove it open. Lindsay’s sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open and earphones on. Walking up to her, I tug the one earbud out. She startles so badly she almost falls off the damn chair but catches herself, shooting to her feet.

“Don’t sit with earphones in your ears when you’re alone at home.”

Still catching her breath, she nods.

I pick up her phone from the table and take the liberty of adding my number to her contact list. “If you can’t get a hold of JJ, call me.” I add Uncle Carl’s number as well. “If we’re both not answering, then call Chief Archer.”

“Okay.”

I hold the device out to her, thinking how quickly someone could've broken in and killed her. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“With your sister joining the FBI, you need to be on guard, Lindsay.”

She nods again. “I’ll be careful.”

Turning my attention to JJ, it’s to find her eyes locked on me as if she’s dissecting a damn frog. “You have to work on the psycho-analyzing thing.”

“Yes, sir.” This time, her tone is playful, unlike the briskness that got thrown my way after we argued about her going undercover, and damn if it doesn’t make my blood heat up again.

Glancing between the two sisters, there’s a sinking feeling in my gut. The same kind you get when you’re given a dog that still needs to be trained.


Tags: Michelle Heard Crime