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It has been a while since I’ve seen anyone because I’ve been so focused on work. Doesn’t matter, I’m not here to flirt. I need to secure my cover.
“Can I ask you something?” I drop the act and get to the point of being up here.
“Uh. Sure,” she responds while she fills the glasses. I study her as she does, looking for clues, but I’m drawn to her features for selfish reasons instead.
Slender arms, dainty hands. Her nails are short, not painted. Seems unusual since her face is all done up with makeup. Even a female-dense man can tell when a woman is high maintenance.
Her look and her personality don’t seem to match. A dolled-up bartender who can barely make eye contact with her customers is abnormal.
“Have we met before?” I watch her closely after I ask.
She stays focused on the last glass she is filling but the tinge on her cheeks deepens.
“No. We’ve never met.” She tops off the last draft, arranging all four in front of me before finally looking up. Her long lashes frame her eyes in a way that pulls me in.
“Your eyes…” I blurt out before I mean to. My impulse control is always something I’ve had trouble with. That’s why they liked me on my Special Ops teams, I’d never hesitate to take the shot or volunteer for the short straw task. I didn’t have anything to lose.
“What about my eyes?” She sounds more worried than any woman should. Her cheeks redden even more and a sick part of me loves that she can’t hide her reactions.
“They’re such a bright blue, almost silver,” I utter like a complete idiot as if she doesn’t know her own eye color. They shine while she looks at me across the bar top. “It’s um… It’s pretty,” I add, my usual confidence flies out the window the longer she stares at me. Her eyebrows crinkle like she isn’t sure what to do with what I’m saying.
Something about her eyes is nagging at my skull. They’re beautiful, but that’s not it. It’s something deeper.
“It’s probably the lighting, but thank you,” she whispers. If I wasn’t already looking at her I would’ve missed her words, but I’m staring hard. I’m transfixed by the way she’s blushing at a simple compliment.
Before I do something stupid like keep flirting with her when I’m in the middle of an undercover op, I grab the beers in front of me and turn to leave. My head is already running a loop of our conversation. Pretty? Really? I’m way off my game.
“Wait.” Her soft voice stops me in my tracks, forcing me to turn back toward her. I falter when I see how she’s leaned across the bar top. I wasn’t expecting her to be so much closer than before.
Her hands are braced against her workstation, silently beckoning me toward her. If possible, she looks even better than half a second ago.
I take a step closer, but as I do, she steps back, once again putting the entirety of the bar between us.
“Green. Your eyes are green.” She smiles brightly after she says it, stunning me. It’s as if she just won the biggest prize that only she knows about.
I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I’m glad to be a witness. She turns back to her other customers at the bar, leaving me dumbfounded, and staring at her backside for a few seconds longer than necessary. I only realize it once my fingers start to cramp from holding all four beer glasses.
Who is this girl?
* * *
The next couple of days are spent debriefing my handler, the investigator assigned primarily to me to coordinate information and to oversee my safety during these undercover operations.
Along with debriefing is all the documentation. I have to make a physical report after each encounter with my targets. When I see Curtis multiple days a week, or multiple times a day, it makes for a stack of paperwork.
I don’t mention the girl from the bar, whom I can’t stop referring to as Sunshine in my head, even though I should’ve been transparent about my concerns. Something about her makes me want to keep her out of this. There’s an innocence about her that should steer clear of “Jay” and this investigation.
However, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see that smile again. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her or the way her cheeks blushed when I spoke to her.
My phone rings, thankfully giving me a reason to stop typing on my current report, and interrupting my thoughts about my mystery girl.
“Don’t tell me that your senses are so good that you somehow knew I was in your area?” I ask as soon as I pick up, seeing “Wolfe” on the screen.
“You’re nearby and you haven’t fucking called me yet?” Nathan acts hurt, even though we both know he doesn’t let things like that bother him.
“I’m on an assignment, but I was going to get a hold of you as soon as I have some downtime. Plus, I’ve got to get over there and hug my girl,” I tease him, knowing how stupid protective he is of his fiance, Callie.
“My girl,” he corrects, and I just grin to myself knowing how well I know him. “You get one hug when you arrive and one when you leave. That’s all.”
