The hum of their intense chemistry vibrated between them, and she fidgeted with her braid to prevent herself from doing something crazy. Like snatching his shirt and tugging him around to face her. Instructing him to drop to his knees and go down on her right there at the desk.
What happened to me? She blinked and noticed A.J.’s eyes locked on her shirt. His gaze was heated as if he were imagining taking her nipple between his teeth and lightly biting.
The cotton fabric of her shirt was still wet, and A.J. lifted his chin, sending a silent warning that her nipple was still quite visible.
Right. Asher and Jessica would be on the video call.
She adjusted her shirt to ensure there was no nipple action but crossed her arms just in case. Better to be safe than sorry.
Her thoughts whirled back to their moment in the kitchen, and— “You turned off the oven, right?” she blurted.
“Yeah, guess dinner will have to wait,” he said softly and pushed upright to a standing position once Asher filled the screen.
“Hey, guys,” Asher said around a yawn. The loose-fitting black tank he was wearing showcased his muscular arms, each one currently cradling a daughter. His hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him as it was now up in a messy man bun.
“Hey, man,” A.J. commented, arms folding as he stood alongside her chair.
“Congratulations,” Ana said with a smile. “Beautiful.”
Asher lowered his attention to his daughters. “Juliana and Arabella, this is Special Agent Anastasia Quinn, can you say hi?” He gently rocked back and forth in the desk chair, a view of Manhattan outside the window behind him.
“They might have Jessica’s brains and good looks, thank God,” A.J. teased, “but I doubt they can wave or talk at three months old.”
Asher rolled his eyes before looking at Ana. “I imagine you’re ready to knock the cowboy in the back of the head by now?”
Ana peered at A.J., catching his profile as he kept his eyes steady on the screen. “There have been moments.”
“I bet,” Asher said with a grin. “Jessica should be here in a second.”
“So, how’s it being a father to two girls?” Ana asked while they waited, trying to fill the sudden uncomfortable silence, nervous Asher might pick up on the sexual tension between her and A.J. through the screen.
“They’re more work than infiltrating a Pakistani compound in the dead of night without any ISR to back you up and no QRF on standby,” Asher answered, continuing to rock ever so slightly, and he positioned a pacifier into his one daughter’s mouth without losing hold of either little bundle. That took skills.
“You have your in-laws, and your mom, oh, and your sister, Sarah, as your QRF. Luckier than most,” A.J. said, his tone light and joking. “But, man, we miss you out here with us.”
“I’m itching to spin back up, but I, um.” Asher cleared his throat and dropped the rest of what he was about to say. Had he caught himself on the verge of exposing the truth about his team? “I mean, I miss all that highly fulfilling private security work,” he corrected himself.
Before anyone could speak, Jessica sat in the swivel chair next to him and gently took one baby girl. “Hey, how are you holding up?”
“Hanging in there.” And nearly making out with A.J. in the kitchen.
Jessica’s eyes made a scrutinizing sweep over Ana. Shit, did she know something? “My contact confirmed Ivan Smirnoff, The Huntsman, was in fact in Miami this weekend before going to Atlanta.”
“Our working theory is that Ivan went to Miami for the second Volkov source,” Asher added. “I assume even the great Ivan was unable to get to him because the FBI had already placed him in protective custody.”
“So, we think Ivan led the Bureau to Atlanta, under the impression his next target was going to be the Iranian, when in fact it was for the purpose of drawing out and abducting a Fed to press for intel about the Volkov’s location in Miami,” Jessica went on.
“Which, frankly, is why the big guns shouldn’t be going out into the field to begin with,” Asher pointed out. They made a great team the way they bounced back and forth off each other.
“If you’re suggesting Ivan got to Porter, well, Porter’s tough,” Ana said quickly, because Asher had no idea what was really going on, and how could he? She hadn’t revealed anything to A.J. or his team. But no, Porter wasn’t really in Atlanta for the Iranian.
Ana felt A.J. twisting to the side to peer her way, and when she checked—yup, his eyes were set on her. A question mark hanging between them that said What do you know that we don’t?
“Our contact at the FBI also said Porter no longer has access to the FBI servers in case he is being tortured for information.” Jessica tickled her baby’s stomach and made a coo noise as though the subject of torture was akin to talking about the weather. But her comment gave Ana a reprieve from A.J.’s unspoken question, at least. “Your access has been revoked as well. Half your teammates believe you were taken, and the other half think you’re the mole.” She’d spoken more casually than Ana expected, or maybe Jessica was exhausted from sleep deprivation. Or Jessica was attempting to use spy tradecraft on Ana to continue getting a read on Ana’s true intentions. Based on the way Jessica was looking at her, it didn’t seem like she was as eager to trust Ana the way A.J. had.
“I assumed they would change our passcodes.” Griff was probably leading the charge against her. Halle and Dean were most likely on her side. The others were a coin toss. And she wasn’t sure where Gray would fall.
All of the passion that had sizzled through her body began to fade with their conversation, and she flinched at the feel of A.J.’s hand on her shoulder. When had he come to stand behind her?
“But still not on the wanted list yet, right?” A.J. asked for confirmation.
Yet. He must’ve assumed she would be at some point. The cards weren’t going to stack up great for her, but she’d known that. The risk was worth it.
“No, I think the Bureau is hesitant to do so because then they’d have to explain why you’re on the wanted list,” Asher pointed out. “Also, they don’t want to scare the hell out of people about The Huntsman running around America. So, we have some time.”
“But probably not very much,” Jessica noted, her voice lower, the baby in her arms falling asleep. “Also, it appears The Huntsman, or whoever is pulling the strings, had the Albanian wire money out of an account that belonged to Hamas.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing this story doesn’t end well for the Albanians, especially since Hamas’s money was supposedly going toward making a dirty bomb.” A.J.’s hand left her shoulder, but he remained behind her.
Ana’s arms slipped at Jessica’s announcement, but then she remembered why they were crossed, so she returned her forearms to cover her chest.
“Yeah, it’s not good,” Asher said with a grimace. “Hamas has twenty-seven million reasons to be angry.”
“Let’s just say the Feds in Boston are trying to prevent a total bloodbath from happening between the Albanians and Hamas,” Jessica added.
“Well, bright side, looks like Ivan Smirnoff may have inadvertently helped the Feds catch a few baddies by kidnapping that Albanian source.” A.J.’s hand brushed against her head, and she stole a look over her shoulder to see his hands gripping the back of her chair.