Page 11 of Blind Trust
Nic was relieved to have misunderstood, especially after catching the way Agent Sims was looking at him. He swallowed. “No, no explosives rings.” He tugged on the brim of his cap, following both agents out of the conference room. “My EOD experience is primarily used in a consulting capacity like this, I guess.”
Agent Sims wrinkled her brow, giving Nic a once-over. “You don’t seem like the type to settle into consultation.”
Nic thought over the last few assignments the SNAP Agency had worked and smirked. If either agent had the clearance, they would’ve had access to the many assignments performed in cooperation with the FBI. And even though he wasn’t defusing explosives, he never felt like working for SNAP was settling. It was an opportunity he was grateful for, even if it came with a stress level rivaling the peaks and valleys of the Hindu Kush range in Afghanistan.
Especially when it came to Lyla.
Nic thought about the mission file sitting in his desk at the agency. He wasn’t sure about the offer, but after walking into Lyla’s aggression, the look on her face when she skirted by him was like a punch to his gut. He’d read through the file twice and was left wondering if maybe it would be better for Lyla if he accepted the mission and left the agency. He could see the toll his own doubts and misgivings were taking on her. If he left, then she’d never have to worry about being undermined again.
“Reynolds, if you’ll take that file up”—Agent Sims smiled at Nic—“I’ll walk Mr. Garcia out if he’s ready.”
Nic nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That makes me sound really old,” Agent Sims said as soon as Agent Reynolds left them. She led Nic down the opposite hallway. “You can’t be much older than me, right? Thirty-one, two?”
“Thirty-two.”
“So we’re the same age, and since I don’t see a ring on your finger, I’m going to guess you’re just as married to your job as I am.”
Nic swallowed, seeing the recognizable interest shining bright in Agent Sims’s eyes. “The job keeps me busy.”
“Oh, I get it.” Agent Sims paused by the exit. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “But I do enjoy taking a little break every now and again, and I’m always looking for company if you’re ever interested in taking your mind off work.”
He accepted the business card, replaying the last couple of hours in his mind. Had he unintentionally flirted with Agent Sims? Given her the impression he was interested in her? She was certainly beautiful and smart—
“Well, uh, if you need anything, my number’s on the card. And if we need anything else, Agent Reynolds or I will call you.”
The awkwardness in her voice made Nic feel bad. Clearly, she had hoped for a better response than awkward silence. “Oh, yes, sorry.” Ugh. He hated lying, but it had to be better than telling her he’d been trying to figure out a reason to accept her flirtation. “I was just thinking about...work.”
Agent Sims tilted her head, blue eyes sparkling. “Does yourworkthink about you as much as you think about her?”
Nic’s cheeks warmed. He wanted to argue that she was wrong, but something about the way she was studying him said she’d know he was lying. “It’s complicated.”
She arched a brow. “I would say forget complicated and let’s grab drinks tonight, but I guess someone who handles bombs for a living can handle a little complicated.”
The tease in her tone made Nic relax. Agent Sims was funny too. So what was keeping him from asking her out? He knew what. He just wasn’t willing to let his mind go there. “How bad is it that I’d choose the bomb?”
Agent Sims laughed and then pointed to the guard desk. “Just leave your visitor tag in there.” She backed away. “Oh, and Romeo, nothing defuses complicated better than flowers and an apology.”
Nic arrived at the SNAP office carrying a candle and prepped with the apology he had owed Lyla a week ago. After his confession to Jack earlier that morning about his doubts and after Agent Sims’s advice, he wanted nothing more than to settle the tension between him and Lyla as quickly as possible—especially in light of where he was leaning in regard to his decision about the Syria mission.
Lyla, it seemed, had walked in just before him and was talking with Jack, oblivious to his presence, and he was a bit grateful for that. Hanging back in the hallway separating the front living space of the office from the fulcrum, he took advantage of her distraction. He watched her drop her designer purse on the desk and shrug out of the red wool coat that made her look like Carmen Sandiego when her hair was that deep russet brown like it was now.
In six weeks, his work view was going to change drastically. But if his absence took away the pressure she put on herself andthatkept her safe, he’d travel to other side of the globe.
She turned and caught him staring. Their eyes locked for just a second, but it was enough for him to feel exposed. “Everything okay, Nicolás?”
Lyla was the only one who called him by his full name, and the first time he heard it roll off her lips, he knew he was in trouble. He stepped farther into the room. “Yeah.”
Her attention moved to the box in his hand. “What’s that?”
Nic looked at the package. “Oh...it’s, um, for you.”
Lyla met him halfway and took the package, confusion pinching her brow as she accepted the box. She opened the flap and squealed. “Mykonos at Sunset.” She pulled out the candle, then inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and smiling. “Did you know this is my favorite?”
In the four years he’d spent working next to her, he’d come to recognize the bergamot and citrus scent that clung to her clothing. And at least once a year, when the sunset colored the DC skyline in vibrant shades of yellow and orange, she’d comment abouther favorite family vacation to the Greek island. “I’ve heard you mention it a few times.”
“Did I miss her birthday?”
