“Busy,” Jackson answered, then said vaguely, “Undercover.”
Valri’s eyes swept over him, as if to confirm what she was thinking. “Well, you don’t look undercover now, so I guess you’ll be there.” Valri blew out a breath and turned her attention back to the photocopy of Reyes’s green card. “In the meantime, I’ll see what can be done with this, but like I said, don’t get your hopes up.”
“We appreciate anything that you can do with that.” Brianna waved her hand at the photocopy. “And contrary to what you just said, miracles are your department.” Smiling, she and Jackson withdrew. “See you tomorrow at the chief’s house,” she tossed over her shoulder as they left the computer lab and went on to the elevator.
Jackson remained quiet as they rode up to the first floor and even after they had exited the building. Unable to take it anymore, Brianna finally broke the silence with an order.
“Say something.”
Halting just beyond the double glass doors, Jackson asked, “Is everyone in your family pushy?”
She knew he’d say something like that the minute Valri had asked him about coming to the gathering.
“It’s a congenital condition,” Brianna answered. “And we prefer to refer to it as being compassionate and friendly.”
Jackson shook his head. “Pushy and delusional,” he remarked. “That’s one hell of a combination.”
Well, she hadn’t expected him to just lie down and give in quietly, she reminded herself. “You can call it whatever you want, as long as you come,” Brianna said firmly.
“And if I don’t want to? Which I don’t,” he added with emphasis. He had close to a foot on her. She certainly couldn’t bodily throw him into her car and drive off with him if he chose not to come.
Rather than argue with him about whether or not he actually wanted to come, she told him matter-of-factly, “Come anyway.” And then her eyes met his as she added, “In the interest of your career.”
Well, this had gone downhill fast, Jackson decided. She was threatening him. “That’s blackmail,” he protested.
“Such an ugly word,” Brianna chided. “Don’t think of it as blackmail,” she told him. “Think of it as trying new things. Going outside your comfort zone.”
He had no desire to venture into or outside any comfort zones. Comfort had nothing to do with his job description. “I signed on to catch bad guys, not to party and break bread with the brass.”
“No brass,” Brianna pointed out, “just people.”
“It’s at the police chief’s house,” he stressed. If that wasn’t the definition of brass, he didn’t know what was.
“Former police chief,” Brianna corrected. “Look, make an effort, put in an appearance,” she urged. “If you find you can’t put up with it, no one’s going to handcuff you to a railing to make you stay. You’ll be free to go home. But at least give it a chance.”
He shot her a look that was far from promising. “I’ll see.”
“No, you won’t see,” Brianna informed him as if they were discussing something to do with the investigation. “You will.”
“You planning on carrying me in, fireman-style?” he asked, challenging her.
“Not me,” she answered. “But I have brothers and cousins, some of whom are bigger than you. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.” She paused, then tried persuasion again. “Since we’ve been working together, off and on, you’ve always gone in where angels fear to tread. I’ve never thought of you as a coward before.”
“And that’s supposed to get me to come?” he questioned, then jeered, “Telling me that you’re disappointed in me?”
Brianna looked at him for a long moment, as if she was actually considering his question, and then she answered, “Yeah.”
Maybe it was her expression, or just the way she said the word. Or maybe it was just a reaction to the long day they’d put in, traipsing around to different construction sites. But whatever the reason, Jackson started to laugh. Laugh so hard that he had to wait to catch his breath before he could say anything in response. And then, when he finally stopped laughing, he found that he had to stop himself before he took her into his arms and kissed her.
Wouldn’t that have surprised her, he thought, his mouth curving again.
“Okay,” he told her as they went down the back steps to the rear parking lot. “It’s tomorrow, right?”
He knew it was, she thought, but for the sake of resolving this and getting him to come, Brianna answered, “Right.”
“I’ll turn up,” he conceded.
“Great.” She greeted his capitulation with enthusiasm. “I’ll swing by your place early to pick you up. That way you can acclimate yourself slowly to the—”
“Hold it,” Jackson ordered just before he headed over to his car. “Who said anything about you picking me up?”
The expression on her face was the personification of innocence. “I just did.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“Yeah, I did,” she told him, knowing full well that wasn’t what Jackson was referring to. “I just heard me say it.”
He frowned. “I mean no, you’re not picking me up,” he informed her.
Still playing the innocent card, Brianna said, “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Jackson retorted. He didn’t care to be treated like a child who needed to be guided and kept in line.
Brianna smiled as she reasoned with him. “Look, if I pick you up tomorrow, you’ll come to the gathering,” she pointed out. “If you’re left to your own devices, who knows what you’ll do?”
He didn’t like her second-guessing him—or being one step ahead, for that matter. “Applying to a new police department comes to mind.”
She treated it like a bluff, even though part of her knew it very well might not be. “You won’t do that. You’re too comfortable here.”
“If I tell you not to come...you’ll still be at my door tomorrow, won’t you?”
Rather than answer, Brianna
