Oh. There were tears. That’s why he was before her, one knee on the floor as if proposing, the other leg bent back, his hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been what feels like a forty-hour day. We can talk about work tomorrow. You should sleep.” He scooped her into his arms before she had a chance to protest.
Ana wasn’t used to surrendering to her tears, and yet with A.J., she allowed them to freely fall. And they kept coming as her arms circled his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered when he carried her up the stairs, his powerful body holding her like she weighed nothing. She brought her face closer to his chest, nuzzling against him once he’d sat on her bed, holding her on his lap. “I, um.”
“Shhh,” he said when she lifted her head. “You don’t need to say anything. Relax.”
She didn’t normally relax. No, she panic-cleaned. And now? Could panic-orgasm be a thing? She really was thinking like A.J. now.
“I’ll wait to go until you’re asleep.”
But this was a place she never wanted to leave.
In his arms.
And maybe being protected wasn’t such a bad thing if it was A.J. doing the protecting?
Chapter Twenty-One
A.J. waited until Ana had fallen asleep to leave her room. He’d have preferred to stay and hold her, but he begrudgingly had to call the team and check for updates.
He’d failed to mention to his team that, in a roundabout way, he’d dropped the news on Ana that her unit chief Gray was on his team’s side. Of course, A.J. had only discovered that tidbit when he’d spoken to Harper and Natasha by way of split-screen while Ana had taken her post-pond-orgasm shower. Natasha had been resistant to tell his team Gray’s identity as the colleague on her new task force, but with Chris and A.J. both trying to throw Gray’s name into the guilty hat, she’d been forced to speak up.
When Harper had informed him she’d had enough of his yawning and insisted he get some sleep, he hadn’t objected.
He felt bad taking rack time when his team was working, but within a minute of lying down on the bed in a guest room after removing his shorts and shirt, he’d passed out cold.
“She’s a hot one.” The familiar voice came out of nowhere, shocking him awake. “Smart. Funny.”
“Huh?” A.J. turned his head to the side trying to determine where the voice was coming from, not to mention why the hell he was lying on a hard surface. Hadn’t he just gone to sleep? In a bed?
He pushed up on his forearms after finding himself flat on his belly on the porch out back, shifted to a sitting position, and came face-to-face with Marcus, who was sitting in one of Grant’s rocking chairs.
A.J. blinked and slapped his cheeks twice. Am I dreaming, or is this real? He stood and peered down at his body, finding himself in only his boxer briefs.
“Oh, and the back-and-forth between you two is the thing of romance novels,” Marcus went on, ignoring A.J.’s confused stare.
“Whaaaaat? Did you read one of Savanna’s novels?” He smiled, deciding to stay in this dream if his buddy was going to pay him a visit. “You did, didn’t you?”
“No, I read a couple before I met her.” Marcus flicked a hand in the air. “How do you think I won over a woman like Savanna? Learned from the pages of a novel how to woo a woman.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“You tell me.” Marcus shot him his signature smile and braced the chair arms, closing his eyes as he continued to rock. “That bump you got on your head Saturday wasn’t that bad, but how many times have I told you over the years, you gotta stop being an idiot and see a doc every once in a while. You get banged up too often.”
A.J. scrubbed his hands up and down his face and tried to get a grip, to determine if he was sleep walking, or still back in the guest room sound asleep and dreaming. “My head is fine.”
“You always say that. Stubborn.” Marcus shook his head, eyes remaining shut. “At least you don’t sleep commando.”
A.J. rolled his eyes, forgetting for a moment this wasn’t real. Marcus was buried in Birmingham thirty minutes away from there. He wasn’t on Grant’s back porch right now. And A.J. probably wasn’t either.
“So, let’s talk about this FBI hottie. Why’d it take you so long to reach out to her? You scared she might bite?”
“I wasn’t scared,” A.J. protested, folding his arms across his chest and pouting like a kid in trouble.
He had so much he wanted to say to Marcus. So much to apologize for. A.J. should have been at his side the day he died. If he had, Marcus might still be alive. Fuck orders from the top. The top didn’t always know the best course of action for an op.
“You haven’t had a serious girlfriend in years. Actually, no girlfriends since I died.” Marcus opened his eyes and slowed his rocking, his brown gaze meeting A.J.’s. “I’ve been worried about you. But based on that kiss I saw you lay on your FBI hottie, maybe you’re finally coming to your senses.”
“Have you been watching us? Spying?”
“I’m not so sure you have room to talk. Weren’t you spying on her?”
A.J. pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should be talking about you, not her right now. You’re here, and I have stuff to say.”
“If you even think about dropping a lo siento, I’ll get up out of this chair and knock the shit out of you. Understood? Terrorist motherfuckers killed me. They’re now toast. Justice served. What happened to me ain’t on you. Or Luke or anyone else. You would’ve died, too, if you’d been with me, and that would’ve killed me.” He grinned. Dark humor even in death. “But I’m here because I’m worried about you, brother.”
“Because of my lack of a love life?” he questioned. A spiral of guilt that Marcus was gone still clung to him like the humidity after an Alabama afternoon rainstorm.
“Trusting a traitor is dangerous, but not letting yourself fall for the woman of your dreams is the deadliest sin of all.”
A.J. jerked his head back in surprise. “Did you just paraphrase my made-up fortune cookie message?”
Marcus cracked a smile, showing his white teeth, then brushed back a lock of dark hair from his tan skin, pushing it away from his forehead. “Seriously, bro, I just want to make sure you’re good. It’s time to move on. Be happy. Stop being so guilty and stubborn.” His tone grew more serious. “No more letting your dick take the lead to avoid feeling anything in your heart or head.”
“My dick is just fine.” A.J. muttered an amused curse under his breath. “And so is my head.” Another curse. “This head,” he said while tapping at his skull.
“So, once you fall for this woman, you’re not going to freak out and take off? Feel guilty when you start to experience some happiness?” he challenged. Typical Marcus. “Because this woman is different, I can tell. I think she’s the one for you. And I don’t want you giving her up because of some bullshit notion that you shouldn’t have happiness because I’m dead.” He was quiet for a moment. “You have to stop blaming yourself for my death. It wasn’t your fault.”