“Yes, because beautiful, smart, and blonde is so icky,” I deadpanned.
“Not all men are into sweet and loyal.”
“You’re not?” I said, dubious.
He looked down at me, amused. “My type seems to be feisty women who are emotionally unavailable.”
I glared at him. “I’m not the one who is in love with someone else.”
“You’re married to the Bureau, Liis. Everyone knows it.”
“Exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you. Relationships are a waste of time for people like us.”
“You think being in a relationship with me would be a waste of time?”
“I know it would. I wouldn’t even come second. I would be third.”
He shook his head, confused. “Third?”
“After the woman you’re in love with.”
At first, Thomas seemed too insulted to argue, but then he leaned into my ear. “Some days, you make me wish I’d never told you about Camille.”
“You didn’t tell me about her, remember? It was Val.”
“You need to get over it.”
I touched my chest. “I need to get over it?”
“She’s an ex-girlfriend. Stop being a brat.”
I gritted my teeth, afraid of what would come out of my mouth next. “You miss her. How am I supposed to feel about that? You still have a picture of her in your living room.”
Thomas’s face fell. “Liis, c’mon. We can’t do this now.”
“Can’t do what? Fight over an ex-girlfriend? Because a real couple wouldn’t do that.” I crossed my arms and sat back against the seat.
Thomas looked down, laughing once. “I can’t argue with that.”
We waited at the gate until the desk agent called business class for boarding. Thomas loaded up with our carry-ons and my tote, refusing to let me help. We slowly stepped forward in line, listening to the machine beep each time the ticket agent scanned a boarding pass.
Once we were through, Thomas followed me down the jetway, and then we were stopped again near the door of the plane.
I noticed the females staring—this time, the flight attendants—looking past me to Thomas. He seemed unaware. Maybe he was just used to it at this point in his life. At the office, it was easy to pretend he wasn’t beautiful, but out in the real world, the reactions of others reminded me of how I’d felt the first time I saw him.
We settled in our seats, buckling in. I finally felt relaxed, but Thomas was on edge.
I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you,” he said.
His words stung. Although unintentional, they had a deeper meaning. He was about to watch the woman he loved agree to marry someone else. And he was right. The woman he loved wasn’t me.
“Try not to think about her,” I said. “Maybe we can step out before it happens. Get some air.”
He looked at me as if I should have known better. “You think I’m stressed about Trenton’s proposal?”
“Well…” I began but didn’t quite know how to finish.
“You should know the picture is gone,” he said matter-of-factly.
“The picture of Camille? Gone where?”
“In a boxful of memories—where it belongs.”
I looked at him for the longest time, a twinge forming in my chest.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“I’m happy,” I said, half-ashamed, half-bewildered.
Holding back now would make me gratuitously stubborn. He had put her away. I had no excuse.
I reached over and laced my fingers in his, and he brought my hand up to his mouth. He closed his eyes and then kissed my palm. Such a simple gesture was so intimate, like tugging at someone’s clothes during a hug or the tiniest touch on the back of the neck. When he did things like that, it was easy to forget he’d ever thought of someone else.
After the passengers settled into their seats and the flight attendants informed us how to survive a possible plane crash, the plane taxied to the end of the runway and then surged forward, the speed climbing and the fuselage rattling, until we took off in a quiet smooth motion.
Thomas began to fidget. He turned around and then faced forward.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I can’t do this,” Thomas whispered. He looked over at me. “I can’t do this to him.”
I kept my voice low. “You’re not doing anything to him. You’re the messenger.”
He looked up at the vent above his head and reached up, turning the knob until air was blowing full blast in his face. He settled back into his seat, looking miserable.
“Thomas, think about it. What other option does he have?”
He clenched his teeth as he always did when he was annoyed. “You keep saying I’m protecting him, but if I hadn’t told my director about Travis and Abby, he wouldn’t have to choose.”
“That’s true. Prison would be his only choice.”
Thomas looked away from me and out the window. The sun reflected off the sea of white clouds, making him squint. He closed the shutter, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust.
“This is impossible,” I said. “We have a job to do, and if we have all this personal junk swimming around in our heads, we’re going to make a mistake, and this entire operation will go south. But its very nature is personal. This assignment involves your family. And we’re here, together, with our own…issues. If we don’t figure out a way, Thomas, we’re fucked. Even if—when Travis says yes, if you’re not on your A game, Grove is going to sniff this out.”