Staring down at the papers scattered across the top of my desk, I focus on finding the missing connection between them all. Elbows braced on the wood, my head rests in my hands as my eyes endlessly scan over the outline I’ve compiled. There’s something I’m not seeing, some small detail I need. Popov disappeared six years ago, and no one has seen or heard from him since. He vanished into thin air and many assume he’s dead, but I don’t believe that. I’d have to see proof of his death to believe he’s gone. Nothing less will suffice.

“Where’d you go, you bastard?” I mutter under my breath, frowning.

“Zoe.” My head raises, and I find Karyn standing next to my desk. She flashes me a quick smile and frowns when she notices what I’m working on. “Are you talking to yourself again?” She has a habit of catching me in embarrassing situations.

“Busted again.” My cheeks flush pink. “I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Isn’t talking to yourself a sign of being crazy?”

“You work for the FBI and that alone is definitely a sign of being crazy,” Nash adds, stepping forward and my eyes grow wide. In my embarrassment, I didn’t even notice him standing behind Karyn. I’m not sure how I missed his six-foot two presence and broad shoulders. My eyes greedily peruse every inch of him, like a coyote looking at its next meal in the dead of winter.

“Nash, I know you remember Zoe.”

“Of course I do.” Teeth raking over his bottom lip, he thoughtfully studies my face.

“You better.” Karyn smirks and raises a brow. “It’s hard to forget the first time you get shot.”

He chuckles. “Or the second.” He shakes his head as if it was a minor inconvenience to be shot and not a life-threatening situation. “Zoe and I ran into each other at the park a few nights ago.” His lips quirk, teasing at a smile.

“Yes, we did. Nash is quite good at first aid. He helped me out when I took a tumble.”

Karyn pats Nash on the shoulder. “Good man. Way to come to the aid of a damsel in distress.”

I snort, unattractively. “Damsel huh? I don’t know about that.”

Nash shrugs his broad shoulders. “Just being a good Samaritan.”

Karyn glances at her wristwatch. “Nash, why don’t you take Zoe to lunch. You guys can get caught up and you’ll be able to answer any questions she might have.”

He nods. “I can do that. In fact, I know just the place to take her.” He winks at me.

My stomach pitches like I’m free falling through space. It’s pathetic - I’m flustered from one stupid wink.

“Oh...I...uh. I’ve got…” I gesture at the papers on my desk, struggling for an excuse not to go. “I think your boss will cut you some slack.” Karyn pats me on the arm. “Whatever you’re working on can wait.” There’s a message in her tone and I hear it loud and clear. “I’ll catch you both later.”

Silently, I watch as Karyn strolls away, leaving me alone with Nash. Crap. I can’t really ignore an order from my boss, now can I? Especially when she busted me for researching Popov for the second time. Unfortunately, being attracted to someone you haven’t seen in six years doesn’t qualify as a reason not to go.

I log out of my computer and rise to my feet, shoving my cell phone into the front pocket on my black pants.

Nash grabs my blazer from the back of my chair and holds it open. Once I’ve slipped each arm into the sleeves, he gently gathers my hair in his large hands. Removing the mass from underneath my collar, he releases it to fall straight to my shoulders. His fingers brush the back of my neck sending hot tingles down my spine. I clench my teeth and force myself to remain still. I won’t allow him to see the effect he still has on me. Grabbing my purse, I turn to face him. “I’m ready if you are.” My words are a mirage of bravado I’m not feeling.

Riding in an elevator with others is never enjoyable but doing so with Nash Garrison standing so close behind me, his warm breath fanning against my cheek with every exhale, is beyond torture. The back of my body burns white hot from his nearness, as if I might erupt into flames at any moment. By the time the doors open on the first floor I’m ready to bolt from the steel cage, only Nash places his hand on my arm, waylaying my escape. Once the handful of our coworkers have exited we step onto the gleaming floors of the lobby and head toward the exit. We both raise our hands acknowledging the guards manning the security check for those entering the building. This is the Boston FBI Headquarters, and all safety protocols are followed closely.

The unusually cool air whips around my face chilling the tip of my nose as we move down the sidewalk. It feels more like March than May and I’m thankful I had the foresight to slip on my blazer before we left.

“We’re just going a few more doors down,” Nash explains. Somehow, he manages to look perfectly comfortable in only a light blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to mid forearm.

The sun breaks free from the clouds as we come upon a sandwich shop with a few tables and chairs set up outside. As we get further into the month of May, those will soon be filled with customers enjoying the warmer spring days, before the humidity of summer hits.

“This is it.” He gestures. “Have you been here before?” Tugging the door open, he waits for me to step inside, before placing his hand on my back as he follows.

“No, I haven’t. What’s good?”

“Everything, but I always get the steak and cheese.”

Various flavorful aromas hit me as I step inside the brightly painted space. Between the smell of the delicious food and the sunny yellow on the walls, it’s a full-blown assault on my senses. My mouth is practically salivating, and I can’t wait to try the food.

Once we’ve ordered, we find a booth off to the side where we can talk without others overhearing. My lips close around the straw on my soda and I drink down a deep pull. The bubbles pleasantly tickle my throat as I swallow the cold beverage.

Nash locks his golden eyes on me full force. “Tell me what you’ve been up to for the past six years.”

“That’s a pretty broad question or should I say demand?” I raise a brow at him.

He smirks. “Sorry. Sometimes my conversational skills get lost in the shuffle between work mode and personal mode.”

“I understand. I’m sure I’ll be in a similar predicament any day now.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table between us. “Where did you go right after the trial?”

“To stay with my grandmother in Maine. I got a job in a local bookstore, took a couple of online classes and spent just under six months there.”

“What did you do after that?”

“I went to Boston University as planned. Fortunately, I was able to keep my scholarship.”

“Did you enjoy college?”

“I did. It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. I had a great roommate who helped make the late transition into freshman year much easier.”

“Natasha? Your roommate?”

I nod slightly. “You remember her name.”

“Come on, did you doubt I would? I’m a great listener.”

“Goes with the territory of being an agent, I guess.”

“That’s not the only reason.” His eyes sweep over to where the food is being prepared, before returning to lock on mine with an intensity so sizzling, I’m surprised I don’t hear a hiss or see steam rising between us. “I remember everything about you.”

My breath halts inside my chest for a moment. Wait. What? Why is he telling me this?

“No one ever told me how bad your gunshot wounds were. I wasn’t even sure if you lived or died. Karyn told me you’d be fine, but part of me assumed she might’ve said that to ease my concern. What happened once they rushed you off in the ambulance?” I change the subject, but I also want to know the answer to my question.

“The ambulance ride is a blur. I got rushed into surgery and then spent a week in the hospital. I was out of work on leave for a month. I healed up faster than you’d think and I’m good as new. I’ve got some cool battle scars to show for it.”

I roll my eyes at him for making light of what he went through. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried you didn’t survive.”

“Come on. Me? Two gunshots and a knife wound, and I’m still here. I might be immortal.”

A shiver ghosts up my spine and I scowl. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s tempting fate to prove you wrong.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“What?”

“That we’re not in control of our own destinies and we’re pawns being manipulated by a greater power.”

I shrug. He does make it sound a little absurd.

“Do you really think God is like some mean kid with a giant magnifying glass burning us like we’re ants?”

I giggle. “No, definitely not. I’m not sure how it all works, but I do believe in not tempting fate, just to be safe.”

“You need to live on the edge more. Stick with me and I’ll show you how.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Our order number is called out and Nash jumps to his feet. “Anything else you need while I’m up there?”

“No thanks.” I quirk my lips into a small smile. He winks sending my stomach aflutter and my eyes never leave him as he walks up to the counter. He’s as tall as I remember, but his shoulders could be even wider than I recall. The way his gray dress pants hug his ass holds my attention like a face that I recognize but can’t place. I’ve never seen him dressed in business attire before. When I was at the safehouse he always wore jeans and t-shirts or the occasional hoodie. I thought he looked attractive back then, but nothing compares to how he’s matured. He oozes masculinity and wears his maturity well.

I barely manage to tear my gaze away before he turns around. Keeping myself busy, I pull a few napkins out of the dispenser on our table, spreading one out over my lap.

Nash sets the tray down between us and hands me my bowl of tomato soup and the grilled cheese sandwich that comes with it. He sets his own plate down and places the empty tray on one of the vacant tables nearby.

I wait until he’s seated to dip my spoon in and have a taste. I let out a small “Mm,” as the hot soup hits the spot, warming me from the inside out.

“Soup’s good, I take it?”

“Yes, it’s amazing. It’s just what I needed and didn’t even realize.”

“And you didn’t want to come to lunch.”

“I had a lot to do.”

He gives me a look loaded with skepticism. “Why didn’t you want to come to lunch with me?”

Setting my spoon down on my plate, I take a sip of soda to buy myself some time while I contemplate how honest I should be. He’s probably formed his own assumptions and maybe I should lay it all out there, so to speak. Clear the air between us and get a fresh start. Although, I’m not sure why we’d need to clear the air, but somehow it feels as though we do. Maybe I’m overthinking things.

“I wanted to avoid any awkwardness between us.”

“Why would there be any?”

“I’m not sure, but it seems like there is.”

“Do you think ignoring each other would be the best solution? Especially when you and I are going to be working closely? We might as well be mature about it. If we spend time together, we’ll be able to move past it asap.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I shrug and resume eating my lunch.

“Maybe? What’s this maybe stuff? You of all people should trust what I say. I’ve never steered you wrong and I never will.”

We enjoy the rest of our meal and by some unspoken agreement the conversation remains light. Neither of us wants to upset the balance by discussing anything slightly controversial. It’s nice to spend time with Nash. I’ve missed him more than I’ll admit to myself, and the time apart has done nothing to lessen the underlying attraction between us. I’m aware of every move he makes. It’s unnerving to have such strong feelings for Nash. I really thought I’d moved past them, but with each second in his company, and each glance at his handsome face, the weak, fluttery sensation in my stomach reminds me - I’m not even close to being over him. Dammit. How am I going to resist him when all I want is to give in to this magnetic pull between us.