the buckets.”
“I guess it’s an acquired taste.” He set the glass down on the napkin.
“I sure hope they don’t try to put you undercover anywhere past Virginia, you wouldn’t last a day before you wound up as feed for someone’s hogs.”
“They don’t really do that.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, so there’ve been a few rare instances.”
“Rare instances? Or just rarely caught.”
He tried to laugh, but it fell short. “Quit fucking with me.”
“If I was fucking with you, I’d have you bent over the counter.” His cheeks reddened, and I didn’t even attempt to hold back my smile. “As for the rest? Pigs do eat anything and everything. Kind of hard to prove there’s been a crime when there’s nothing left.”
“There’s always something left.” He said it like a challenge. “DNA, hair, blood, skin.”
“Good luck trying to dig all that out of three feet of pig shit.”
The flush in Jeff’s cheeks faded as quickly as it had appeared.
I rattled the ice in my glass. “What the hell attracted you to the FBI? You’ve never had the kind of stomach a person needs to deal with the kind of shit they see.”
“It wasn’t my first choice.”
“Really?”
“You’d know that if you’d stuck around long enough to ask.”
“I don’t make a habit of rubbing elbows with pit vipers.”
“They knew you were innocent. They had the proof in years’ worth of intel. You didn’t have anything to worry about.” He fumbled with his napkin.
“You never were a very good liar.”
“I fooled you.” He clenched his eyes shut for a moment.
“Yeah, you did. But only because I broke the rules and let myself get led around by my dick.”
Jeff started to take a sip but put the glass back down. “How did this happen?”
I shrugged. “Which part? You backstabbing me, me getting shot, or trying to fix the mess you and your buddies made that almost got a lot of people killed? Take your pick. And if you don’t like 'em, there’s more, those are just the first three off the top of my head.”
“I meant what I said about how I felt.”
I leaned back in my seat. Jeff Shaldon, or Jeff Myers as I knew him. Dark hair, blue eyes, pretty, but built on testosterone and sculpted by a high-dollar gym membership. There wasn’t a damn thing out of place. Even the scars he’d earned made him all the more desirable. He was the first guy I’d ever considered bottoming for, but for some reason, I could never go through with it. My subconscious must have known something I didn’t.
It was rare to see him with his shields down. Rarer to see him vulnerable. Sitting across from me at the kitchen table, he was a gaping wound.
That wasn’t like him either. He was either truly sorry or… A much better liar than I ever gave him credit for.
“So where do they have the mic? On your chest or your crotch.”
Crow’s feet appeared at the corner of each of his eyes.
“Maybe I should get on my knees, you know, to make sure they get everything loud and clear.” I looked under the table. “Can you hear me now?”
“I took it off.”
I propped my elbow on the table.
Jeff ran his hand over the top of his head. “I told them you’d make me in five minutes and putting a wire on me wouldn’t help.”
I checked my watch. “I must be slipping, that took at least fifteen.”
“You were distracted.” He shrugged.
“And you give yourself too much credit.” I emptied my glass. When I stood, I took Jeff’s untouched drink with me to the sink. “What were they hoping for? That I’d confess my love in between rattling off my imaginary black book and bank account numbers?”
“Probably. But they learned a long time ago you were too smart for that.”
“See, now you’re giving me too much credit.”
“Like you said, there isn’t a grain of proof you’ve ever done anything illegal.”
“Maybe because I haven’t.” I held his gaze when I said it. The confidence in his eyes dimmed a
“I guess it’s an acquired taste.” He set the glass down on the napkin.
“I sure hope they don’t try to put you undercover anywhere past Virginia, you wouldn’t last a day before you wound up as feed for someone’s hogs.”
“They don’t really do that.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, so there’ve been a few rare instances.”
“Rare instances? Or just rarely caught.”
He tried to laugh, but it fell short. “Quit fucking with me.”
“If I was fucking with you, I’d have you bent over the counter.” His cheeks reddened, and I didn’t even attempt to hold back my smile. “As for the rest? Pigs do eat anything and everything. Kind of hard to prove there’s been a crime when there’s nothing left.”
“There’s always something left.” He said it like a challenge. “DNA, hair, blood, skin.”
“Good luck trying to dig all that out of three feet of pig shit.”
The flush in Jeff’s cheeks faded as quickly as it had appeared.
I rattled the ice in my glass. “What the hell attracted you to the FBI? You’ve never had the kind of stomach a person needs to deal with the kind of shit they see.”
“It wasn’t my first choice.”
“Really?”
“You’d know that if you’d stuck around long enough to ask.”
“I don’t make a habit of rubbing elbows with pit vipers.”
“They knew you were innocent. They had the proof in years’ worth of intel. You didn’t have anything to worry about.” He fumbled with his napkin.
“You never were a very good liar.”
“I fooled you.” He clenched his eyes shut for a moment.
“Yeah, you did. But only because I broke the rules and let myself get led around by my dick.”
Jeff started to take a sip but put the glass back down. “How did this happen?”
I shrugged. “Which part? You backstabbing me, me getting shot, or trying to fix the mess you and your buddies made that almost got a lot of people killed? Take your pick. And if you don’t like 'em, there’s more, those are just the first three off the top of my head.”
“I meant what I said about how I felt.”
I leaned back in my seat. Jeff Shaldon, or Jeff Myers as I knew him. Dark hair, blue eyes, pretty, but built on testosterone and sculpted by a high-dollar gym membership. There wasn’t a damn thing out of place. Even the scars he’d earned made him all the more desirable. He was the first guy I’d ever considered bottoming for, but for some reason, I could never go through with it. My subconscious must have known something I didn’t.
It was rare to see him with his shields down. Rarer to see him vulnerable. Sitting across from me at the kitchen table, he was a gaping wound.
That wasn’t like him either. He was either truly sorry or… A much better liar than I ever gave him credit for.
“So where do they have the mic? On your chest or your crotch.”
Crow’s feet appeared at the corner of each of his eyes.
“Maybe I should get on my knees, you know, to make sure they get everything loud and clear.” I looked under the table. “Can you hear me now?”
“I took it off.”
I propped my elbow on the table.
Jeff ran his hand over the top of his head. “I told them you’d make me in five minutes and putting a wire on me wouldn’t help.”
I checked my watch. “I must be slipping, that took at least fifteen.”
“You were distracted.” He shrugged.
“And you give yourself too much credit.” I emptied my glass. When I stood, I took Jeff’s untouched drink with me to the sink. “What were they hoping for? That I’d confess my love in between rattling off my imaginary black book and bank account numbers?”
“Probably. But they learned a long time ago you were too smart for that.”
“See, now you’re giving me too much credit.”
“Like you said, there isn’t a grain of proof you’ve ever done anything illegal.”
“Maybe because I haven’t.” I held his gaze when I said it. The confidence in his eyes dimmed a
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