Destin sighed and crossed one leg over the other. “I can always hope. I like cupcakes and milk.”
Her unspoken words hung heavy between. I don’t like this. Not at all.
I’m not too thrilled about it myself, sugar, he thought sourly as the ache in his chest twisted, shifted, settled.
It was a good thing he hadn’t come out here with any big expectations about getting over Destin. Because that obviously hadn’t happened.
Destin seemed about as thrilled to have him there as he was about being there, he decided, venturing a few more feet into the room. With his heart a leaden weight, he shifted his attention away from her to look at Oz.
It didn’t matter that he’d focused, meditated, prepared himself.
It was like preparing yourself to ride a tornado.
There was just no preparing yourself for the ride to come. You could know it was going to happen, but that was it.
Staring into her pale green eyes, he thought bitterly, Damn you, Oz.
If he wasn’t mistaken, there was amusement in her eyes.
Yeah, you be amused, scheming bitch, he thought sourly as he settled in the chair next to Destin’s. One nice thing about the fact that she wasn’t in the Bureau anymore, he didn’t have to school his thoughts quite so much.
She might pick up the odd and random thought, but she wasn’t his boss and he didn’t have to deal with her once he finished here.
Destin crossed her legs, lovely legs left bare by the knee-length black skirt. It was almost severe in its simplicity, but she could have been wearing sackcloth and it wouldn’t detract from the sheer beauty of her.
Her skin was the color of sun-kissed ivory…she didn’t tan. She never had, but her skin would get this soft glow. Just the faintest bit of color. It made him think of peaches. And he wanted to stroke a hand down her thigh, press a kiss to her knee. Caleb had the weirdest feeling that if he closed his eyes, he could smell the sweet scent of Destin’s skin on the air. Lust and need punched through him.
Not what you need to think about.
Job. He was just here about a job.
Tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, he said softly, “You want to tell me why I was put on a plane at four o’clock in the afternoon? By now, I ought to be settling down to eat dinner, watch some TV and relax. Instead…I’m here. Why am I here?” Flicking a glance at his watch, he checked the time. Play it cool. That was what he had to do. Play it cool so neither of them realized how hard it was to be here.
Play it cool and maybe nobody would realize the truth…he still loved the woman sitting next to him. He always would.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your precious alone time,” Oz said, lifting a brow as she studied him. “I just have this case…a series of date rapes in Charlottesville, Virginia. Pretty little college town.”
That explained why Destin was needed. It was just up her alley. Didn’t explain why he was here. She’d been working cases like this just fine without him for five years.
“Charlottesville is a little out of the way for you,” Caleb said, absently tapping out a beat on the arm of a chair. “If you planned on sending me flying back to Virginia, why fly me down to Texas to begin with?”
Oz gave him a cool look. “I needed to make sure the job was going to click for you. I never know that until I have you in front of me, and you won’t know until you read through the files.”
She was bullshitting him over something. He could tell. But he hadn’t bought the plane ticket and he didn’t plan on buying the one back to Washington, either. With a negligent shrug, he said, “If you say so, Oz.”
The look on her face had been known to reduce people to stammers and stutters. Caleb just stared at her. He wasn’t playing her games anymore. Didn’t have to play her games. It had been made damn clear he wasn’t obligated to take this “assignment”. It might be appreciated, but it wasn’t required.
If Oz thought he’d jump just because she said so, she needed to readjust her thinking.
Of course, if he left, he wouldn’t be able to see Destin…
And he was an idiot. She was the entire reason he’d come here.
“I assume Durand is the only other one you think is suitable for the job?” Destin asked.
Caleb didn’t need to look at her to know she was scowling.
Oz settled back in her chair and plucked a piece of imaginary lint from the lapel of her navy blue suit. “Yes.” She gave him a narrow look before she looked back at Destin. “Now, I want you both aware of a few things. Officially, I’m not sending anybody out there. As of yet, there’s little reason for us to get involved and nobody has contracted for our services. The locals aren’t having much luck and, to be completely honest, there’s no reason for federal involvement on your end, Durand. It’s not entirely likely that’s going to happen, either. This guy is smart. He’s not going to do anything that will catch federal interest.”
“He caught yours,” Caleb pointed out. And just how did he do that?
“That’s true. Pity, that.” Her lashes swept down, shielding her eyes.
Something pulsed inside him and he had to wonder… Just what aren’t you telling us? She didn’t elaborate, and he suspected she wasn’t going to.
But he wasn’t wrong. He knew it, could feel it in his gut, a sharp, strong tug. Studying her face, he tried to get some clue as to what was going on, but there wasn’t one. Since he wasn’t one of the psychics who could read thoughts, he was just going to have to play her game until she decided to tell him.
He hated these games. At least with Jones, the bastard laid things out on the table.
Oz continued to watch him expectantly so he went ahead and gave her what she seemed to need. “So if there’s no reason for federal involvement, just why am I here?”
“I think a two-party team would work best,” she said vaguely. “And you’re the person who works best with Destin. In the past five years, she’s worked with all my other people and she’s never managed to click with them quite the way she clicked with you. That’s what I need on this. I need my best, which is her, and she needs all the tools I can give her.”
“But you’re still not answering why you’re bothering to put a team out there at all. Screw whether it’s me or somebody else. Why get involved? Why do you need anybody out there at all, much less one of your best?” Destin asked, shooting Caleb a narrow look.
You really don’t want me here, do you, doll?
A slow smiled curled Oz’s lips, but she didn’t say anything. Playing her cards close to her chest, Caleb thought moodily. “She’s not going to tell you anything yet, Destin. She’s having too much fun with her head games on this one,” he said, keeping his voice flat and his gaze focused on the boss’s face.
“Oh, come on now,” Oz said, her voice light, belying the hard glint he saw in her eyes. “There’s more to this than head games.”
“Okay. Then spill it.” He wasn’t holding his breath on that happening, though.
“Why…it needs to be done.” Oz smiled again, an inscrutable little curve of her lips that made his spine go tight and his gut go cold. That smile never meant good things. Oz had some sort of insight into this job.
For the past five years, he’d been working with a man who’d pushed him to his limits. Taylor Jones was brilliant. He was driven and he had a knack for knowing which of his agents was the right one for any particular job, but he had no real psychic skill.