I pull my arm away from Briggs’ shoulders and move closer to Eric, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Good for you.”
“She’s amazing. You’ll meet her at the BBQ,” he says with a wide grin.
“Right. I forgot about that. When is it again?”
“Six weeks,” Eric answers.
I turn back to Briggs and Finch. “Are you coming to Costa’s?”
Finch grimaces like he’s in trouble, then he shakes his head. Briggs shoots a glare his way. “We have wedding invitations to write because someone was too lazy last night.”
I let out a chuckle. “Two months undercover and no one’s going to have a drink with me,” I mutter, shaking my head at my team.
“I don’t have any plans,” JJ says, quickly shrugging on her jacket and actually looking eager.
Fuck.
Either she’s put me on a pedestal, or her nerves are fucked from it being her first day on the job. I hope it’s the latter.
Knowing I can’t just ignore her existence, I grumble, “Let’s go.” Turning my attention back to my other team members, I greet them with a chin lift before heading out of the office.
JJ’s right behind me, her steps so fucking fast it sounds like she’s jogging, and I slow down. Glancing over my shoulder, I ask, “How was your first day?”
“Not what I expected.” She catches up to me, and again, I notice the top of her head barely makes it to my shoulder. “I’m taking it as a win that I didn’t get shot and didn’t fire my weapon.”
“Definitely a win, seeing as you had your weapon pointed at me.”
She gives me a sheepish look that’s cute as fuck. “Sorry about that.”
I press the button for the elevator and then catch JJ’s eyes locked on my face. “You have something to say?”
The doors slide open, and we step inside while a wide smile spreads around her mouth. “I’ve heard you’re the best at organized crime.”
I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. I just take pride in giving my job my all.
When I don’t respond, JJ continues, “Even though I’m assigned as a behavioral analyst, I’d like to learn everything I can about organized crime.”
“I’m not the mentoring type,” I mutter as the doors open to the underground parking area.
My comment does nothing to kill the smile on JJ’s face. I’m starting to think I should’ve gone home for some much-needed shut-eye instead of heading to Costa’s with her.
Chapter 2
JJ
Wanting to make a better impression than yesterday, I walk into the Federal building a whole hour early.
I had two drinks with O’Brien and our Chief before they called it a night.
Two very uncomfortable drinks.
O’Brien was annoyed after I told him I wanted to learn from him, and in hindsight, I realized my eagerness was to blame. I came on way too strong, considering he’d just been undercover for two months and most likely needed to decompress.
Stupid, JJ.
It also didn’t help that I screwed up yesterday. God, it’s probably going to take a while before I can get into O’Brien’s good graces. If ever.
Walking into the Organized Crime Unit’s office space, I think I’m the first to arrive until I see O’Brien up in the chief’s office through the glass partitioning. They’re deep in conversation. Then O’Brien glances in my direction, and I feel the force of his impenetrable gaze like a punch to my gut, making unwanted butterflies erupt in my stomach.
Chief Archer’s attention turns to me, and I wave awkwardly, instantly regretting the action.
Ugh.
Dropping my bag in one of the drawers, I sit down on the chair and stare at the mostly empty desk.
You waved?
Shaking my head, I switch on my computer and key in my user ID and password. I check my emails, seeing a couple from trainees I befriended at Quantico.
I open one from Kelvin, who ended up in Cyber Crime.
How was your first day?
Letting out a soft chuckle, I reply, ‘I pretty much screwed myself. How was yours?’
A file hits my desk, startling the shit out of me. My eyes snap up, colliding with O’Brien’s intense gaze, then he pulls a chair closer and takes a seat.
Having him sitting near me makes me feel nervous as hell, and I have to suppress the urge to fidget.
He’s your senior. Chill.
“You have ten minutes to impress me.”
What?
He nods at the file. “Tell me what you think.”
Logging out of my emails, I grab the folder and open it. There are surveillance photos of Kelmendi, and glancing through them, I frown. “He’s social.”
No response from O’Brien, who’s trying to stare a hole into my head. The man is so damn intense, my nerves feel frayed, and I haven’t even been in his presence for a full ten minutes.
I become aware of his cologne, the earthy scent stronger today and laced with sandalwood. My heart skips a freaking beat, deepening the frown on my forehead.
No, JJ. You have to work with him. No stupid crushes.
I force myself to focus on the information, and by the time I’m done paging through the file, I say, “He’s not in charge.” My eyes lift to O’Brien’s.
He stares me down for a solid minute, causing my stomach to flutter and tense all at once. Resting his ankle on his left knee, he leans back, his gaze so freaking potent I’m about to spontaneously combust.
“What makes you say that?” he finally asks, releasing some of the tension in the air.
“Kelmendi’s too social. He’s flaunting his success, which means he doesn’t have any. Whoever’s in charge won’t be out and about like that. It’s too much of a risk. My opinion? Kelmendi’s a smokescreen.”
O’Brien lifts a hand to his chin, the sound of his thumb scraping over the bristles making goosebumps spread over my body.
God, this man is too much. How can everything he does be so damn hot?
I swallow hard, my nerves starting to get the better of me.
“One fuck up, and we’re done,” O’Brien mutters, his already way too penetrating gaze filling with a look of warning.
Huh?
I blink at him like an idiot.
He climbs to his feet, his gray suit pants and dark gray button-up shirt not doing a single thing to hide his muscled build. “We’re heading out.”
Still blinking over here.
“Now, JJ!”
I’m up and running to catch up to O’Brien. “Where are we going?”
“To meet with an informant.”
Yes! I get to ride with him. This is huge.
Don’t screw it up, JJ.
Only when we’re down in the underground parking and walking toward a black SUV, do I ask, “So you agree? Kelmendi’s a smokescreen?”
“Yes.”
I open the passenger door and wait until we’ve both strapped on our seat belts before asking, “Then why did you bring him in?”
O’Brien starts the engine, and as he reverses the SUV, his eyes lock on mine, sending another wave of goosebumps scattering over my skin. “Because breaking into an Albanian crime ring is next to fucking impossible, and I needed to shake things up in New York. Hopefully, Kelmendi’s arrest will bring whoever’s in charge out of their hiding place.”