Page 2 of His to Love
I didn’t have a choice. Being an FBI Agent, one frequently pulled into undercover investigations, had been a goal of mine since I joined the Bureau. When a knee injury in the final football game of my senior year effectively ended any dreams of making the NFL, dreams I’d had since I could walk, I chose the one profession where I could do the most good. I could join an organization that worked at taking down crime families like the one responsible for the death of my dad.
The familiar anger started simmering in my veins. My dad had been a good man, a man committed to his job and his family, until a member of the Galecki organization took him out.
I would never forget the officers who showed up at our doorstep after midnight on a Tuesday. My mom screamed and wailed—sounds I remembered vividly, because they sounded nothing like those a human should ever make. She crumpled to the floor in despair, and stayed there long after my father’s co-workers and brothers in the Detroit Police Department left our house after hours of trying to console us.
“What’s my cover?” I finally asked, sliding the files off Agent Jackson’s desk and into my hands.
I would look at them later in my apartment when I had a glass of scotch close to me. Or the bottle. I had a feeling I was going to need it. I hadn’t been home to Detroit since college graduation. There was only one person who could have dragged me back there. Agent Jackson wanted me to do the impossible—put myself face-to-face with her, insinuate myself into her life…
And then betray her in the worst way possible.
Chapter 1
Gabriella
“Last call for flight 2105. Your flight is boarding now.”
“Crap,” I muttered, hurrying through the airport terminal.
“Sorry!” I called as I passed a woman. I was pretty sure I’d run over her foot. Or her small child, judging by the size of the bump my suitcase hit. I didn’t have time to stop and find out which.
When I reached the correct gate, I rushed up to the attendant and handed her my boarding pass with shaky fingers. Breathing heavily, feeling sweat trickle down the back of my neck, I brushed a strand of my black hair out of my face.
The attendant checked my boarding pass and frowned at me, handing it back. “You just made it.”
I nodded and hustled through the tunnel to the plane. My carry-on suitcase banged against my ankle as I dragged it along the cramped aisle. Whoever designed planes should have at least allowed enough space for a simple suitcase to squeeze through. I ignored the looks from the impatient first-class travelers as I glanced at my boarding pass again and groaned. 18E. The middle seat? The day couldn’t have gotten worse for me.
Scanning the rows of weary and bored travelers, I searched for my row, when I was suddenly bounced backward onto the floor, landing with a loud thud on top of my carry-on. How had I missed someone standing directly in front of me?
“Oh shit, are you okay?”
I looked up at the tower in front of me, in the direction of the voice that spoke to me. Thor? Zeus? Adonis? He looked like some sort of dark-haired Greek god. I blinked, trying to clear my head. I had to have to been hallucinating. The Adonis tower looked slightly familiar, even if he was blurry through my startled vision. But as everything began to clear, I recognized him. Slightly tanned skin, strong jaw that held just a hint of stubble. Sparkling blue eyes framed by thick black eyelashes that…I swear I had stared into before.
His eyes widened, his jaw dropped as our eyes met, and I said the one name I promised myself I would never say again.
“Tyson?”
He blinked rapidly and crouched down. Why was I still on the floor?
Extending his hand, he said, “Blue? Holy shit.”
Blue.That name. That voice. I hadn’t heard either of those in ten years. Ten long, incredibly boring years since I had left Detroit, and in the blink of an eye, my childhood crush was kneeling before me…hovering.
“Yeah,” I said lamely. Gathering whatever wits I had that hadn’t been scattered all over the plane, I placed my hand in Tyson’s. He stood, pulling me to my feet along with him. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand. He was so warm. And strong. Larger than I remembered.
Perhaps I was drunk, although I didn’t remember having any alcohol that day. Maybe the mushrooms in Aunt Eleanor’s spaghetti the night before weren’t really regular mushrooms. It wouldn’t have been the first time she made that mistake.
“Did I hurt you?”
That voice cut through my wondering and I shook my head. “I’m good.”
Lie.My entire body felt like it was being lit up like a fireworks show. I was tingly and hot and squirmy. I was also still staring at Tyson’s hand. His fingers were perfectly manicured. Long and thick. His dark gray suit fit him perfectly. It had to be designer. Made just for him. Nothing off the rack could fit so snugly in all the right places.
I swallowed slowly and dragged my eyes up his body until I met his gaze. His thick black eyebrows were pulled in so close they almost touched.
Damn, he looked incredible.
He caught me checking him out and smirked. Awesome.
