“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come home with me?” Nash questions as we stand outside on my front stoop.

Leaning back against the door, I stare up at him and shake my head. “Didn’t you just say we were going to take things slow?”

“We can spend the night together and just sleep.”

My head tips as I aim a skeptical glance his way.

“Okay, we could kiss a little and sleep.” He winks, playfully. “I feel like I just got you back and now I don’t want to let you go.”

“Nash,” I whisper. “I know what you mean. I really do.”

“I want to cram as many moments together as we can into each day to make up for all the time we missed. But you’re right. I need to remind myself we’re no longer apart. Sometimes it seems too good to be true. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and I find myself lying there thinking of whether this is all a dream.” He cups my cheeks in his hands. “Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t believe you’re here and we’re getting the chance we never had before.” He lowers his head, brushing his lips softly across mine. His arms slip around my waist, tugging me into his solid physique.

Rising on my toes, my fingers bury in his thick, dark strands as I press my lips urgently to his. Our tongues meet, twisting and rubbing together and I know I can’t walk away from this second chance we’ve been gifted. Our lips part and he presses our foreheads together. “This is scary as hell for me, but I’ve never let go of my feelings for you no matter how hard I’ve tried. Nash, I’m crazy about you.”

“If there were stages of love, I’d be past crazy and moved onto batshit crazy,” he informs me.

“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask.

“About what?”

“Are we taking things slow or not?”

“If I say no, can I sleep over?”

“Nope. No doesn’t mean we’re going to rush into sex or sleepovers.”

“Damn, that’s too bad. I was hoping for sex and sleepovers.”

“Nash.” I roll my eyes. “Seriously, we have to be practical. We have work in the morning and spending it together would only be asking for a sleepless night. I’m still in my probationary period. As one of my superiors aren’t you supposed to be a good influence on me?”

“I guess it depends on your definition of good.” The corner of his mouth angles up adorably and my hand raises so my fingertips can trace over the shape of his bottom lip. He playfully bites the tip of my index finger.

“Don’t get me going again, woman. Unless you want to be thrown over my shoulder and taken to my place.”

“Hmm, maybe some other night. I really do need a solid sleep. Gotta be sharp and impress the boss.”

“Karyn’s already impressed by you, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Yeah, I know she is, but I want to make her proud. I need to earn my right to be FBI and show her she made the right decision bringing me in.”

He raises my chin with a knuckle. “This attitude of yours is why you are the right person for the job. Karyn’s seen this quality in you from day one and so did I.”

“Thank you, Nash. Coming from you, that means a lot. No matter what we’re doing,” I wave a hand between us, “I know how seriously you take your job. I hope I can make you proud too.”

“Zoe, you’ve made me proud dozens of times already. You were the bravest young woman I ever met and now I can’t wait to sit back and watch you kick ass in the Bureau.”

“Sit back, huh? Is that what you do these days?”

His face lowers, lips moving closer and closer. “I’m not going to answer that. I’ll let you decide for yourself.” He presses his mouth to mine, brushing it back and forth, before sucking on my bottom lip. It’s all I can do to restrain myself from inviting him inside and from the way he’s rocking his pelvis into me I know he’d answer with an emphatic yes. He gives my lip a final nip and backs away with a growl.

“I need to get out of here before I fuck you against this door.”

Yes Please. My knees tremble from his blunt words. I don’t reply. I stand there with my mouth hanging open and wait to see what he’ll do.

“Get inside.” He raises his chin and rakes a hand through his hair ruffling the thick strands. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He grins mischievously. “Sweet dreams.”

“Boo,” Natasha yells as I come around the corner to the kitchen.

“Shit.” My hand goes to my chest, resting over my racing heart. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” I question, flipping the overhead light on.

“Ugh.” She covers her eyes with a hand. “I had a little too much vodka and my head already hurts. I was hoping some tea would settle my stomach and the ibuprofen I took would stop the pounding, but so far no such luck.”

“Can I do anything for you?” Pulling out the chair across the small table, I sink down onto the seat with a relieved sigh. A smile teases my lips as I recall some of the better highlights of tonight.

“What’s that shit eating grin for?”

“Huh?” I shake the fog from my head, glancing Tash’s way.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” She snorts. “Get it? Hard? Please tell me Nash and you got to know each other a lot better.” She places her palms together like she’s praying, pouts her mouth and bats her long eyelashes at me.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. We had dinner.” I shrug, hoping she can’t see what I left unsaid.

“And?”

“It was delicious.”

“Come on,” she yells, and grabs her temples, before continuing in a softer tone. “Tell me what happened. It’s part of being my best friend. You know there’s no such thing as secrets with us. Invasive is my middle name. I’ll just push and push and push some more, until you cave. Give me the dirt, before I explode from curiosity. You wouldn’t want my death on your conscience, would you? I mean think about it. How would you live with all the guilt? It would eat away at you slowly. Day by day festering like an infected sore until it…”

“Okay,” I shout. “Jeez. Shut up already.”

Tash leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, an enormous smile spreading across her cheeks. “I could totally be an interrogator for the FBI.” She flips her hair. “I gots mad skillz.”

“Yeah, you could annoy the suspects into a confession for sure.”

“Hey, whatevs gets the job done, right?”

I shake my head. “It’s a little more involved than that.” I place my index finger and thumb close together. “Just a little bit.”

“Don’t be a hater. It’s not easy being good at so many things.”

“And being so humble about it must be extremely challenging,” I retort.

She sighs. “You have no idea. It’s practically a full-time job.”

Grabbing a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table, I ball up the square in my fist and throw it at her face. The paper lands on her chest, tucked between her breasts.

“And there’s another one of my many attributes,” Tash jests, referring to her large chest size. We both laugh as she plucks it free and flicks it my way. The napkin missile misses its mark, falling short to the tabletop.

“Anyway, where were we before you got us off on this crazy tangent?”

I roll my eyes. “Yep, it was all me.”

“I remember.” She leans forward, arching a brow. “You were about to tell me how your date was. Literally.” She smirks.

“I don’t recall any such thing.”

“Come on. Don’t make me drag it out of you.”

“Look I had a great time. You were right. It was a date and not a catch-up dinner.”

“Excuse me? Can you repeat what you said, please?”

“Screw you. I’m not repeating it. I had to say it once and that’s bitter enough to swallow.”

“One of these days you’re going to listen to me without arguing. When it comes to guys, I know what makes them tick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gloating isn’t becoming on you.”

“Sure it is.” She frames her face with her hands like she’s a picture. “Being right makes me feel fantastic and does great things for my complexion. My cheeks are pink, and my eyes are all sparkly, right?”

“I’m going to hit the sack now. I’m tired.” I start to rise, and she stops me.

“Hold up there. Not so fast sister. Sit your little self down.” She points to the chair and I ease onto the seat. “I’m still waiting for you to dish the dirt.” She drums her bright yellow polished nails on the wooden table and clears her throat while staring at me with narrowed eyes. “Still. Waiting. Zoe.”

“Fine. We had dinner in a gazebo on his aunt and uncle’s farm and then we kissed. Are you happy?”

“Yep, I am, but the question is, are you happy?” She stretches her arm across the table as if she’s holding a microphone in front of me. “Did Nash deliver in the kissing department?”

“He sure did. Can I go to bed now, mom?”

“Yes, you may, dear, but we will discuss this in more detail tomorrow. Now give your Mumsy a proper kiss,” She replies in a British accent and taps her cheek.

Rising, I push the chair back and step around the table. I bend down like I’m going to comply and then raise my middle finger in front of her face.

She places her palm on her chest in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, you horrid, ungrateful child.”

Shaking my head, I spin around and walk from the room holding in the laughter. I can’t give her the satisfaction of knowing I find her antics amusing. That would only be inviting her to take it up a notch and I’m not ready for that. I don’t think there’s a person alive who’s ready for that. If anyone was made for a life in the theater, it’s Tash. I’ve seen her in a dozen shows and her stage presence is astonishing. She’s a natural. All she needs is her big break, and then the world better watch out because she’ll own it.

“Seems familiar,” Nash suggests, circling me and searching for an open spot to make his move as I do the same. It does feel like old times, except we’re in the workout room at my home instead of the back room at the safehouse. And this time no one’s trying to kill us.

“Does it?” I reverse direction, forcing him to react and pushing him back. “Guess I didn’t notice.” Now I’m chasing him.

With his lean, muscular frame and the way he moves with confidence and a hint of the ferocity just below the surface, Nash is making it difficult for me to concentrate. I can’t help but notice that somehow, he seems to have only gotten better looking since we first met. I’ve never been more attracted to him than I am right here, right now.

He slips forward and drops down to one knee, shooting in for a quick single leg takedown and trying to overpower me. His sudden aggression instantly pulls me back to reality. I don’t yield or try to avoid and misdirect like he’s expecting. Instead I step straight in and fire a punishing knee directly into his sternum, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him down onto all fours.

I descend on him like a boa constrictor, wrapping my legs around his waist from behind, I pin one of his arms tight against his neck as I roll us over on to the mat. Before he can react, I cinch an arm triangle choke and begin slowly squeezing my legs tightly around his waist.

Having his body pressed against me has my mind shifting in a different direction. One where Nash is bare chested, and my lips are leisurely tracing over his muscles. What would his skin taste like? The need to know has my center tightening and my nipples aching for his touch. I’m tired of waiting and wondering. It’s time to be bold and take charge of this situation.