I READJUSTED MY CELL PHONE, so it sat better between my cheek and my shoulder while I tried to cook. “Hang on, Mom. Just a sec,” I said, resorting to setting the phone on the cabinet.
“You know I hate the speakerphone.” Her voice wafted with the spices in the air. “Liis, take me off the speakerphone.”
“I’m the only one here, Mom. No one else can hear you. I need both hands.”
“At least you’re cooking for yourself and not eating that processed poison every night. Have you gained any weight?”
“I’ve lost a few pounds actually,” I said, smiling even though she couldn’t see me.
“Not too much I hope,” she grumbled.
I laughed. “Mom, you’re never happy.”
“I just miss you. When are you coming home? You’re not going to wait until Christmas, are you? What are you cooking? Is it any good?”
I added broccoli, carrots, and water to the hot canola oil and then pushed them around the skillet as it sizzled. “I miss you, too. I don’t know. I’ll look at my schedule, chicken and vegetable stir-fry, and hopefully, it will be amazing.”
“Have you mixed the sauce? You have to mix it first, you know, to let it blend and breathe.”
“Yes, Mom. It’s sitting on the counter next to me.”
“Did you add anything extra? It’s good just the way I make it.”
I giggled. “No, Mom. It’s your sauce.”
“Why are you eating so late?”
“I’m on West Coast time.”
“Still, it’s nine there. You shouldn’t eat so late.”
“I work late,” I said with a smile.
“They’re not keeping you too busy at work, are they?”
“I’m keeping me too busy. I like it that way though. You know that.”
“You’re not walking alone at night, are you?”
“Yes!” I teased. “In just my underwear!”
“Liis!” she scolded.
I laughed out loud, and it felt good. It seemed as if I hadn’t smiled in a long time.
“Liis?” she said, concern in her voice.
“I’m here.”
“Are you homesick?”
“Just for you guys. Tell Daddy I say hi.”
“Patrick? Patrick! Liis says hello.”
I could hear my father from somewhere in the room. “Hi, baby! Miss you! Be good!”
“He started the fish oil pills this week. Gives him gas,” she said.
I could hear the scowl in her voice, and I laughed again.
“I miss you both. Good-bye, Mom.”
I pressed the End button with my pinkie, and then I added in the chicken and cabbage. Just before adding the pea pods and sauce, someone knocked on the door. I waited, thinking I’d imagined it, but the knocking happened again, louder this time.
“Oh no. Oh, crap,” I said to myself, turning the heat almost all the way down.
I wiped my hands on a dish towel and jogged to the door. I peeked through the peephole, and then I scrambled to open the chain and bolt lock, grabbing at it like a madwoman.
“Thomas,” I whispered, unable to hide my utter shock.
He was standing there in a plain white T-shirt and workout shorts. He hadn’t even taken the time to put on shoes, gauging by his bare feet.
He began to speak but thought better of it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“It smells good in there,” he said, taking a whiff.
“Yeah.” I turned toward the kitchen. “Stir-fry. I have plenty, if you’re hungry.”
“It’s just you?” he asked, looking past me.
I chuckled. “Of course it’s just me. Who else would be here?”
He stared at me for several seconds. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”
I looked down. “Oh. Do you want it back?”
He shook his head. “No. No way. I just didn’t realize you still wore it.”
“I wear it a lot. It makes me feel better sometimes.”
“I, uh…needed to speak to you. The office is buzzing about your outburst.”
“Just mine? I’m the emotional one because I’m a woman. Typical,” I muttered.
“Liis, you spoke in Japanese at the office. Everyone knows.”
I blanched. “I’m sorry. I was upset, and I…shit.”
“The S.A.C. gave the green light to move forward with the plan to remove Grove.”
“Good.” I hugged my middle, feeling vulnerable.
“But they haven’t found him.”
“What? What about Sawyer? I thought he was the Master of Surveillance. Doesn’t he keep tabs on Grove?”
“Sawyer’s out there, looking for Grove now. Don’t worry. Sawyer will find him. Do you…do you want me to stay with you?”
I looked at him. His expression was begging me to say yes. I wanted him here, but it would only mean long conversations that would lead to arguments, and we were both tired of fighting.
I shook my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”
The skin around his eyes softened. He took a step and reached up, cupping each side of my face. He gazed into my eyes, his inner conflict swirling in his twin hazel-green pools.
“Fuck it,” he said. He leaned in and touched his lips to mine.
I dropped the dish towel and reached up to grip his T-shirt in my fists, but he was in no hurry to leave. He took his time tasting me, feeling the warmth of our mouths melding together. His lips were confident and commanding but giving way as my mouth pressed against them. Just when I thought he might pull away, he wrapped both arms around me.
Thomas kissed me as if he had needed me for ages, and at the same time, he kissed me good-bye. It was longing and sadness and anger, twisted but controlled, in a sweet soft kiss. When he finally released me, I felt myself leaning forward, needing more.
He blinked a few times. “I tried not to. I’m sorry.”
Then, he walked away.
“No, it’s…it’s fine,” I said to an empty hallway.
I closed the door and leaned against it, still tasting him. Where I stood still smelled like him. For the first time since I’d moved in, my apartment didn’t feel like a sanctuary or the representation of my independence. It just felt lonely. The stir-fry didn’t smell as good as it had minutes before. I looked over at the girls in the Takato painting, remembering that Thomas had helped me hang them—not even they could make me feel better.
I stomped over to the stovetop, switched it off, and grabbed my purse and keys.
The elevator seemed to be taking an extraordinary amount of time to reach the lobby, and I bounced in anticipation. I needed out of the building, out from under Thomas’s condo. I needed to be sitting in front of Anthony with a Manhattan in my hand, forgetting about Grove and Thomas and what I’d refused to let myself have.
I looked both ways and crossed the street in wide strides, but just as I reached the sidewalk, a large hand encircled my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
“Where the hell are you going?” Thomas asked.
I yanked back my arm and shoved him away. He barely moved, but I still covered my mouth and then held my hands at my chest.
“Oh God! I’m sorry! It was a knee-jerk reaction.”
Thomas frowned. “You can’t just go walking around alone right now, Liis, not until we get a location on Grove.”
A couple stood ten feet away on the corner, waiting for the light to change. Other than that, we were alone.
I puffed out a breath of relief, my heart still racing. “You can’t just go around grabbing people like that. You’re lucky you didn’t end up like drunk Joe.”
Thomas’s smile slowly stretched across his face. “Sorry. I heard your door slam, and I was worried you’d risk going outside because of me.”
“Possibly,” I said, ashamed.
Thomas braced himself, already hurting over his next words. “I’m not trying to make you miserable. You’d think I could stay busy enough just doing that to myself.”
My face fell. “I don’t want you to be miserable. But that’s what this is—miserable.”
“Then”—he reached out for me—“let’s go back. We can talk about this all night if you want. I’ll explain it as many times as you want. We can lay down some ground rules. I pushed too hard before. I see that now. We can take it slow. We can compromise.”
I had never wanted something so much in my life. “No.”
“No?” he said, devastated. “Why?”
My eyes glossed over, and I looked down, forcing tears to spill down my cheeks. “Because I want it so bad, and that scares me so much.”
The quick onset of emotion surprised me, but it set off something in Thomas.
“Baby, look at me,” he said, using his thumb to gently lift my chin until our eyes met. “It can’t be any worse together than it is apart.”
“But we’re at an impasse. We have the same argument over and over. We just have to get over it.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You’re still trying to get over Camille,” I thought aloud, “and it might take a while, but it’s possible. And no one gets everything they want, right?”
“I don’t just want you, Liis. I need you. That doesn’t go away.”
He pinched the sides of my shirt and touched his forehead to mine. He smelled so good, musky and clean. Just the tiny touch of his fingers on my clothes made me want to melt into him.
I scanned his eyes, unable to respond.
“You want me to say that I’m over her? I’m over her,” he said, his voice growing more desperate with every word.
I shook my head, glancing down the dark street. “I don’t just want you to say it. I want it to be true.”
“Liis.” He waited until I looked up at him. “Please believe me. I did love someone before, but I have never loved anyone the way I love you.”
I sank into him, letting him wrap his arms around me. I allowed myself to let go, to give control to whatever forces had brought us to that place. I had two choices. I could walk away from Thomas and somehow tolerate the heartache I felt every day from being without him. Or I could take a huge risk on just faith with no predictions, calculations, or certainty.
Thomas loved me. He needed me. Maybe I wasn’t the first woman he’d loved, and maybe the kind of love a Maddox man felt lasted forever, but I needed him, too. I wasn’t the first, but I would be the last. That didn’t make me the second prize. It made me his forever.
A loud popping noise echoed from across the dim street. The brick behind me splintered into a hundred pieces in every direction.
I turned and looked up, seeing a small cloud of dust floating in the air above my left shoulder and a hole in the brick.
“What the hell?” Thomas asked. His eyes took in every window above us and then settled on the empty road between us and our building.
Grove strode across the street with his arm outstretched in front of him, holding a Bureau-issued pistol in his trembling hand. Thomas angled himself in a protective stance, covering my body with his.
He glowered at our assailant. “Put your sidearm on the ground, Grove, and I won’t fucking kill you.”
Grove halted, only twenty yards and a parallel-parked car between us. “I saw you sprinting out of your building to catch Agent Lindy—in your bare feet. I doubt you thought to grab your gun. Did you tuck it into your shorts before you left?”
For a greasy-looking, pudgy, short man, he was awfully condescending.
Grove’s mustache twitched, and he smiled, revealing a mouthful of teeth well on their way to rotting. It was true. Evil ate people from the inside out.
“You sold me out, Lindy,” Grove sneered.
“It was me,” Thomas said, slowly bending his elbows to hold up his hands. “I brought her here because I was suspicious of your intel.”