no,” he said, his gut clenching at the thought. His team had experienced enough loss. He refused to lose even one more of the guys. Not if he could help it. Shoving the thoughts away, he took a bite of his pie and focused on enjoying the sweet-and-sour key lime. Fantastic graham cracker crust, too.
“There’s a lot I love about Baltimore, but it’s also such a troubled city,” Emilie said. “I do pro bono counselingat a clinic up there once a week, and there’s just some rough stuff.”
Why wasn’t he surprised to learn that about her? But how did pro bono counseling at an inner-city clinic square with being involved with drugs and guns? “Oh, yeah? That’s really great of you, Emilie. Is it safe?” he asked.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s certainly a change of pace from working with college students. And it’s definitely different walking into a facility that keeps an armed guard on staff in the waiting room, but they’re good people without sufficient access to care of all kinds. I’d do more if I could.”
Their meal ended and Marz took care of the check over Emilie’s protests, and then they went out to the pier to wait for the taxi. Darkness had brought a chill to the air, and Emilie hugged herself and rubbed her arms.
Marz found himself torn in two. On the one hand, he wanted to pull her in against his chest and warm her with his hands and heat. On the other, he hated to initiate anything physical with her, given the circumstances that had brought them together. He already felt like a big enough asshole, especially since he genuinely liked Emilie. She might’ve been a mission asset—no, she was a mission asset—but she was also someone Marz enjoyed immensely and at any other time would’ve wanted to pursue.
Maybe he could, down the road, assuming there was a good explanation for her stash and she could forgive the way and reason they’d met. But he couldn’t get involved with anyone with so much shit on his plate, even if she didn’t come with a dangerous brother who might or might not be gunning for them. Marz and theguys had to clear their names and settle the score with Church. And Marz also had to find a way to clear the air with Beckett, even if it meant tying him to a chair until the stubborn ass talked. Damn it all to hell.
“Do you want to wait inside?” he asked.
She smiled, and it almost looked like her teeth were chattering. “No, I’m fine. It’ll be here soon.”
As if her words conjured the water taxi, the boat’s navigation lights came into view. Minutes later, it drew up along the pier and they went aboard.
The chill was worse when they got under way. Marz couldn’t resist the urge to make her more comfortable. “Here,” he said, projecting over the wind and the motor, “lean against me. I’ll keep you warm.”
Emilie curled into him, tucking her face against his neck and folding her hands against his chest.
And damn if that didn’t feel good. There was just something about sheltering a woman’s body with your own that Marz really dug. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tighter.
This trip was longer than their earlier one as it stopped at several other piers. Emilie’s arms below the short dress-sleeves were freezing. He rubbed her skin with his hands and just barely held back from pulling her into his lap so he could hold her even closer.
“You okay?” he asked with his lips against her ear.
Emilie tilted her head back. “Yes, thanks to you,” she said, a small smile playing around her lips. She was so close . . .
Heat sparked in the air between them until Marz could no longer feel the breeze. All he knew was the thunder of his heart, the rush of his blood, and the fucking urgent desire to taste her, kiss her, claim her.
The little voice in the back of his head reciting the long list of reasons why any of that would be a bad freaking idea? He kicked that mother into a dark, distant corner.
Marz felt her answering desire in the way her
“There’s a lot I love about Baltimore, but it’s also such a troubled city,” Emilie said. “I do pro bono counselingat a clinic up there once a week, and there’s just some rough stuff.”
Why wasn’t he surprised to learn that about her? But how did pro bono counseling at an inner-city clinic square with being involved with drugs and guns? “Oh, yeah? That’s really great of you, Emilie. Is it safe?” he asked.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s certainly a change of pace from working with college students. And it’s definitely different walking into a facility that keeps an armed guard on staff in the waiting room, but they’re good people without sufficient access to care of all kinds. I’d do more if I could.”
Their meal ended and Marz took care of the check over Emilie’s protests, and then they went out to the pier to wait for the taxi. Darkness had brought a chill to the air, and Emilie hugged herself and rubbed her arms.
Marz found himself torn in two. On the one hand, he wanted to pull her in against his chest and warm her with his hands and heat. On the other, he hated to initiate anything physical with her, given the circumstances that had brought them together. He already felt like a big enough asshole, especially since he genuinely liked Emilie. She might’ve been a mission asset—no, she was a mission asset—but she was also someone Marz enjoyed immensely and at any other time would’ve wanted to pursue.
Maybe he could, down the road, assuming there was a good explanation for her stash and she could forgive the way and reason they’d met. But he couldn’t get involved with anyone with so much shit on his plate, even if she didn’t come with a dangerous brother who might or might not be gunning for them. Marz and theguys had to clear their names and settle the score with Church. And Marz also had to find a way to clear the air with Beckett, even if it meant tying him to a chair until the stubborn ass talked. Damn it all to hell.
“Do you want to wait inside?” he asked.
She smiled, and it almost looked like her teeth were chattering. “No, I’m fine. It’ll be here soon.”
As if her words conjured the water taxi, the boat’s navigation lights came into view. Minutes later, it drew up along the pier and they went aboard.
The chill was worse when they got under way. Marz couldn’t resist the urge to make her more comfortable. “Here,” he said, projecting over the wind and the motor, “lean against me. I’ll keep you warm.”
Emilie curled into him, tucking her face against his neck and folding her hands against his chest.
And damn if that didn’t feel good. There was just something about sheltering a woman’s body with your own that Marz really dug. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tighter.
This trip was longer than their earlier one as it stopped at several other piers. Emilie’s arms below the short dress-sleeves were freezing. He rubbed her skin with his hands and just barely held back from pulling her into his lap so he could hold her even closer.
“You okay?” he asked with his lips against her ear.
Emilie tilted her head back. “Yes, thanks to you,” she said, a small smile playing around her lips. She was so close . . .
Heat sparked in the air between them until Marz could no longer feel the breeze. All he knew was the thunder of his heart, the rush of his blood, and the fucking urgent desire to taste her, kiss her, claim her.
The little voice in the back of his head reciting the long list of reasons why any of that would be a bad freaking idea? He kicked that mother into a dark, distant corner.
Marz felt her answering desire in the way her
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