He almost sounded relieved when he spoke again. “That sounds great. Text me when you’re done and I’ll meet you.”
“Okay.” I wanted to say something else, eradicate the awkwardness that had crept into our relationship. I didn’t know what that should be, though.
“Avery?” His voice was soft.
“What?”
“I love you.”
My heart sighed — no, really — at the words. He had a way of breaking down my barriers that I didn’t always appreciate. “I love you too. We should get extra chocolate cake to take home.” Why I felt the need to add the second sentence was beyond me.
“That can be arranged.” He paused a beat, perhaps waiting for me to say something more, and then he wrapped things up. “Text me when you’re on your way ... and be careful. If that is some weird Christmas mob hit, I don’t want you getting on their radar.”
“I’m a professional,” I reminded him. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Then why did I just get chills?”
Why indeed?
OTHER THAN THE NIGHT CREW, the office was mostly empty by the time I returned. Fish was packing up his briefcase. His gaze felt heavy as he watched me trudge in.
“What are you doing back here?”
The question grated. “Um ... filing my story. I believe everything above the fold on the first page belongs to me, right?”
He nodded. “Jared took some great photos. It should be a good package.”
I tried to ignore the concern in his eyes and remained on topic. “I’ll have my piece finished in about an hour if you want to hang around to read it.”
He glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. “You usually write at home or Eliot’s shop when it gets this late in the day.”
He was too observant for his own good. Err, or maybe my good. “Well, I decided to write it here. If that’s suddenly against the rules, I guess I can head out to my car and work on my iPad.”
He shot me a quelling look. “Don’t give me attitude. I’m just ... concerned.”
I hated — I mean, absolutely hated — that I wanted to drop to the floor and cry. I had no idea where the compulsion came from. I hated anyone feeling sorry for me. Fish was supposed to yell at me, threaten to fire me for my choice of outfits, essentially be a disagreeable bastard. Instead he was acting like a surrogate father protecting his child.
“You don’t have anything to be worried about.” I forced a smile. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Can I ask you something?”
Absolutely not. I didn’t need anyone else prying into my life. “Do you have to?” I sounded whiny but kept my face impassive.
“I think it’s for the best.”
I sighed. “Knock yourself out.”
“Are you afraid of getting married?”
I knew he was going to ask that question. I just knew it! “Of course not.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue. “I just don’t see the point of getting married.”
Fish folded his arms across his chest but remained silent. Because I was me, I had to fill the void.
“Marriage is for religious people,” I explained. “I’m not religious. I don’t like church and stuff. Also, I’m not having kids. Marriage is for people who have kids.”
“I see.” I couldn’t decipher his expression. “I’m assuming you’ve told the long-haired lothario you don’t want kids.”
He almost never called Eliot by name, opting instead to comment on his shoulder-length hair. I was fairly certain that was jealousy. Fish had been mostly bald since the day I’d met him.
“We’ve talked about it. He doesn’t want kids either.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Who said there was a problem?” My voice rose an octave. “Things are perfectly fine. If you think otherwise, well, then you’re the problem.”
“Kid, I’ve known you for a long time now.” He used his most reasonable tone. “You’re an open book when it comes to certain things, like being afraid.”
“I’m never afraid.”
“Not when you should be,” he agreed. “When your life is on the line, you’re a bold and mouthy pain in the butt. But when it comes to emotions, you’re a little girl hiding behind your mother’s skirts.”
Oh, well, that was doubly insulting. I would never hide behind a skirt. “What do you want from me?” I held out my hands. “I’m doing my job. I’m not being a pain. I’m ... being a good little soldier.”
The sigh he let loose was long and drawn out. “Nobody expects those things from you. I know you’re still ... worked up ... about what happened in the wake of Ludington’s shooting. I want you to know I fought to keep you on the job. I didn’t want you to be suspended. The decision was out of my hands.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“No, but you’re not yourself.” He offered up a crooked grin. “Do you know what I like best about you?”
“My winning fashion sense?”
He ignored the sarcasm and barreled forward. “You don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re you, authentically so, twenty-four hours a day. You’ll never change to fit into a box of other people’s making.”
“And that’s a good thing? I’m pretty sure my mother would disagree.”
“It’s good for you,” he clarified. “You’re good at your job. You’re not in any danger of losing it now that the Ludington mess is sewn up. If that’s the reason you’re hanging around the office these days, you don’t have to worry. You can go back to the way things were.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
He shook his head, exasperation evident. “I don’t think that’s the reason you’re suddenly such a diligent employee. You’re hanging around here to avoid your security stud.”
I bit back a curse. Swearing at him was frowned upon even under the best of circumstances. “I’m not trying to avoid Eliot. Why would I do that?”
“Because he’s about to make you do something you thought you’d never do.”
“He can’t make me do anything.”
Fish’s chuckle was dry. “Yes, he can. You love him. I wasn’t sure I would live
