Straight to the Heart. Samantha Hunter
Lisa,” she said, slipping from the chair and walking back to the kitchen.
Ben put the glass he had been polishing for the past ten minutes back on the shelf behind the bar and closed his eyes, taking a breath and trying to focus. He was rarely this scattered, but Joanna was very distracting.
Maybe Charlie was right. Maybe he should do something about that. It wasn’t good policy to sleep with the help, and she was bouncing off a bad relationship—not the best situation for either of them—but his mind kept traveling back to the same idea.
And he kept pushing it aside. There were plenty of women around to sleep with, if that’s what he wanted, but he needed Joanna on the job.
That was a shame, he thought, as she came back out from the kitchen carrying a tray of freshly filled ketchup bottles, the motion of it deepening the slight cleavage at the edge of her tank top.
A real shame.
JOANNA DUSTED HER HANDS OFF ON her jeans, feeling better as she made her way around the small, basic apartment where dust had collected everywhere. She hadn’t had much time to clean or set the place up yet, and so she worked off some excess energy doing so now.
Changing into her comfortable jeans and a loose white T-shirt was nirvana, shucking the boots for a pair of well-broken-in sandals. Her job took her everywhere, but having her comfortable clothes with her was how she felt at home wherever she was, and this was no different.
After two hours of cleaning, the place sparkled. Callahan wasn’t kidding when he said it was small. One main room had a sofa, a small easy chair and a television. Off the hallway that led to the back, there was a galley kitchen with a mini fridge but no stove.
There was a hotplate and an old-fashioned metal coffeepot on the counter, but she supposed a stove wasn’t necessary when they had a whole restaurant downstairs. Down at the very end of the hall was a bedroom with a futon-like bed and a table, next to it was a tiny, utilitarian bathroom.
Everything was painted a monotone beige, not that it mattered to her at the moment. Her apartment in San Diego had been painted in rich, nourishing colors that were a warm welcome when she came home after a long time on the job. Now, she was between living spaces. During her recovery and transfer, she had lived with her brother and Lacey. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to land permanently yet, though she thought being back in Texas might not be all bad. Spending time with her family again had been nice.
When she had first walked in to the apartment, the windows were closed and the heat was stagnant and suffocating. Now, it was early evening and with every window open—thank goodness the screens were intact—there was a nice breeze coming in. It was still warm, but pleasant enough. She relaxed for a few minutes, looking out over the pastures and hills that sprawled beyond the parking lot of the roadhouse. It was probably going to rain tonight. She could smell it on the air.
Crickets were singing down below. After her mom had taken off, Joanna had had nightmares for months, and she had often had fears of someone being outside her bedroom window in the small, one-floor ranch home that they lived in. It was irrational, but she would wake up terrified and ask her dad to check outside her room several times each night.
So her father had shown her one night how if she listened for the crickets, they would let her know if anyone was really there. He went outside and walked up to her bedroom window several times, and each time, sure enough, the crickets went silent.
Crickets still made her feel safe, content, to this day.
The place was more than adequate for her needs, and it allowed her to be right on top of Callahan a good part of the time. She stopped in the middle of grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge, thinking about all the different ways she’d like to be on top of Ben Callahan.
Being closer to Callahan, however she managed it, would be a good thing—or potentially a bad one—if she let things go too far. There was a definite spark there. She knew he wanted her—and in some ways, she’d be stupid not to capitalize on that attraction to keep a closer eye on him.
However, there were strict rules governing the relationship between marshals and the people they protected, and non-fraternization was one of them. However, Callahan wasn’t a part of the WITSEC program, so those rules technically didn’t apply, though sharing his bed could be a problem in a number of professional and ethical ways.
Not that anyone would have to find out.
The problem was … well, she wasn’t exactly sure what the problem was, she thought, slouching back in the chair by the window. It wasn’t as if she was going to fall in love with him or something. If it got the job done and took the edge off, why not?
But she couldn’t talk herself into it.
While no doubt it would be entertaining, Joanna found the idea of sleeping with someone as part of her job distasteful. Flirting a little, or even going on a date, was acceptable. If it helped her to keep him safe, she was okay with that.
Luckily, her phone ringing on the counter discouraged any further fantasizing. She grabbed it, looking at the screen and seeing her brother Jarod’s name pop up.
“Hi, Jarod. What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. How’s it going?”
Her brother cared about her, but he never checked up on her. He absolutely never called her when she was on assignment. Knowing what undercover work was like, he wouldn’t want to do anything to throw her out of her mindset.
“Lacey pestering you to call and see how I am?” she asked, smiling as she realized why her brother was making an exception to the rule.
“How’d you guess? Sorry about this, but she’s been worrying about you all day. She wouldn’t have slept a wink unless I spoke with you.”
“Tell her thanks, and it all went great. Got the job, and even scored an apartment above the bar.”
“Excellent for surveillance.”
“Exactly.”
“How’s your new employer?”
She shrugged, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on the sofa by the window. “Okay. What you would expect, I guess.”
Both of them knew better than to share anything too specific on the phone. She’d have to keep this short, as nice as it was to talk to her brother.
“By the way, Lacey wants me to let you know there’s a ‘cute condo’ here in San Antonio that her friend is selling, if you are interested in seeing it when you get back,” Jarod related, obviously being pushed to do so.
“Tell her maybe I’ll look at it,” she said, and then her phone beeped and she saw her boss’s name pop up.
“Jarod, gotta go—Don is on the other line.”
“Take care of yourself, jelly bean,” Jarod said affectionately, making her smile again by using the nickname he always called her.
“You, too,” she said, hanging up, and answering the other call.
“Wyatt,” she answered, as she always did for work.
“You in?” Don asked in a no-nonsense tone as she stood and paced the small room.
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Good. You’re not still sleeping in your car, are you?”
“No,” she said, stifling a grin. Don was her boss, but he was also a friend who sometimes acted like a second big brother. Although he never cut her any slack when it came to work, and she wouldn’t expect him to. “Callahan had a room free up over the bar, so I took it.”
“Good work. Anything going on?”
“Nope. Pretty dull.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. You could use some dull.”
“Then I’ll be back chasing bad