“Wesley,” her mother said, “this isn’t a temporary billet. You’re going to live here for the next few years, and it shouldn’t look like a hotel room.”

Denny finally cut in and saved her. “Mama, give her a break. She didn’t invite us down here to help, after all, and—”

“Mother’s prerogative.” Doris perched on the wooden arm of the tan canvas sofa. “We’ll miss you at Christmas.”

Wes sat next to her mother and took her hand. “I know, I’m sorry. I’d be there if I could.”

“We’ll miss you,” her mother repeated, “and we’re so very proud of you. Your other sisters wanted to be sure you knew that.”

“I know. I love you. All of you.”

Denny flopped down beside her and bumped her knee against Wes’s. “So—on the personal front—”

Wes groaned. “Come on, Denny. Don’t start.”

Doris stroked the back of Wes’s head and feathered the locks along the back of her neck, as if she were still ten. “There’s more to life than work, Wesley.”

“And there’s lots of life ahead, Mom. I’m fine. Just really busy right now.”

“Yeah,” Denny said softly, “but are you happy?”

Wes hadn’t expected the question and hesitated before she answered. Getting the third degree from her family about her personal life wasn’t unusual, but after she shrugged off their good-natured queries with some standard answer, the conversation usually moved on. This time, the questions felt different, or maybe she was the one who was different. She didn’t have a pat response, and the old explanations rang false, even to her. “I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought. My work makes me happy—”

“Satisfaction isn’t happiness,” Doris said.

“No, maybe not,” Wes said, “but it’s always been enough.”

“Things change, you know,” Denny said. “Don’t miss the chance for more than satisfaction if it comes along.”

“Okay, enough. Message received.” Wes squeezed Denny’s hand, kissed her mother’s cheek, and stood. “You’ve got a two-hour drive and I’ve got a ton of things to do.” At her mother’s frown she added quickly, “And I promised Emory I’d go out with her and Dana tonight. So I do have a social life, you know.”

“Are you taking a date?” Denny asked, an eager glint in her eyes.

Wes instantly thought of Evyn. Like every time she thought of her, the memory of Evyn pressed close in the night flooded through her. Pleasure warred with pain, and she schooled her face to remain neutral. “No.”

“Huh. What aren’t you telling us?” Denny narrowed her eyes.

“Nothing. I’m just getting together with some friends.”

“Let her be, Denny,” Doris said.

Her mother studied Wes with that laser-beam look that made Wes think her mother could see inside her head. Considering all she could see was Evyn naked—moving under her, rising above her, crying out as she came—she slammed the mental door as quickly as she could. Some things her mother definitely did not need to know.

“She’ll tell us when she’s ready.” Doris rose and gathered her things. “She always does.” She kissed Wes on the cheek. “You’ve always done more than you were asked, and you’ve always been asked a great deal. They couldn’t have chosen anyone better. We love you.”

“Thanks,” Wes said, her throat tight as she hugged her mother and sister good-bye. “I love you all too. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She had a couple of hours before she was due to meet Emory and Dana at the Black Fox. She would have canceled, but she knew Emory would hound her for her reasons. And what could she say? She was beat after a lousy night’s sleep when she couldn’t stop thinking about a woman who disordered her orderly world—a woman she’d be much better off not thinking about at all? No. She’d go out with her best friend and her lover and do her damnedest to put her night with Evyn in the past.

She headed to the House. Work might not be everything, but it was everything she’d always had. Work had always defined her—her goals, her sense of self, her pleasure, and often her pain. There was comfort in the familiar, and as her family drove out of the city and the loneliness seeped back and lay heavy in her throat, she needed a little comfort.

*

The door opened behind Evyn and she didn’t bother to turn around, saying to Gary, “You’re early.”

“For what?” Wes said.

Evyn jerked and twisted in her seat. She hadn’t expected to see her—they didn’t have anything scheduled. Just the night before, she’d submitted her report to Tom. The long and short of her assessment was that Wes was not just qualified, she was an excellent choice to head the WHMU from an operational standpoint. She worked well with a team, didn’t buck the chain of command, and knew when to take charge when medical issues demanded. She didn’t have an excuse to spend extra time with Wes any longer. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Wes, in dark trousers and a pale blue shirt open at the throat, stood just inside the door, looking better than Evyn remembered, and she’d been remembering a lot. The instant her eyes had opened that morning, like most every morning, she’d thought of Wes. Wondered what Wes’s day would be like, if she’d moved yet—if she needed help. If she’d call. And in her next breath, she’d remembered how she’d lain in the dark torturing herself—rekindling the fire Wes’s hands had ignited in her belly, savoring the slow buildup while replaying the sound of Wes’s murmurs in her ear, her low moans, the quick gasp as she orgasmed. She’d fallen asleep on the crest of her own orgasm with the memory of Wes’s mouth moving over her skin, so knowing and so sure. She’d awakened ready for another and would have indulged again if her cell phone hadn’t vibrated with a message from base advising her she was needed to fill in because POTUS had decided to go OTR. At the sight of Wes, the low-level arousal that she had lived with all day, every day, leaped to life. She worked on sounding casual. “Did you get moved?”

“Just this morning.” Wes headed for the coffeepot, poured a cup, and gestured with it toward Evyn. “Refill?”

“I’m good.”

Wes put the pot back and gathered herself. She hadn’t expected to see Evyn, and the surge of pleasure at finding her there took her by surprise. “I thought you were off today.”

Evyn shook her head with a wry grin. “POTUS decided to go Christmas shopping.”

Wes rested against the counter and sipped her coffee.

“Something tells me that isn’t your most favorite thing.”

“Unscheduled trips are about our least favorite. No advance planning, lots of civilians, way too much exposure.” Evyn laughed. “We like things to be orderly, controlled, planned out.”

“Sounds a lot like my life,” Wes said.

“Well, you know what happens when all that goes out the window,” Evyn said softly.

Wes set her coffee aside. Evyn’s eyes were so dark, so deep, Wes couldn’t look away. The pull on her body to move closer, to touch, was nearly irresistible, and she gripped the counter to keep herself in place. “Dangerous.”

“And scary.”

Wes had been scared plenty in her life—scared of what would happen to her family when her father died, scared of what would happen if she didn’t get a scholarship, scared of who might pay if she failed to do her job in the classroom or the field. She’d countered that fear by working harder and longer until she was absolutely certain the outcome was in her control. She didn’t leave room for failure. “Sometimes being scared forces us to be stronger—better.”

“Oh, no question. Nothing like a challenge to make us dig deep, find out what we’ve really got.”

“And who we really are?” Until recently, Wes had known who she was and what she wanted. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“That too, sometimes.”

“This is crazy, you know that, right?” Wes murmured.

“Maybe. Probably. I told Tom you were right for the job and field ready.”

“Did you.” Wes slid her hands into her pockets, crossed her ankles

Evyn swallowed. “Mmm. Last night.”

“So I guess I’m not a squid anymore.”

“Nope.” Evyn laughed.

“No more sims?”

“’Fraid not.”

Wes smiled. “I’m not.”

“No—I imagine you’ll be glad to be done with our daily dates.”

“You too, I imagine.”

“Not so much,” Evyn murmured.

Wes knew exactly what she should do to extinguish the possibilities that seemed to be growing without any intention on her part. She knew what to say, but she’d never been a coward. “I’m meeting friends of mine”—she glanced at her watch—“in an hour. You like jazz?”

“Sure,” Evyn said, her gaze fixed on Wes’s face.

“When are you going to be done?”

“My push is due in half an hour—” Evyn laughed, shook her head. “Are you inviting me to go out with you?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I like being with you. Pretending I don’t when we’re going to see each other every day isn’t going to work.”

“I’ll come find you when Gary shows up,” Evyn said. “I’m usually pretty good at pretending, but not so much with you.”

Wes warmed inside. “Tonight…just so we’re clear, it’s just—”

“I know,” Evyn said quickly. “Just friends. I know. That’s good.”

Wes nodded, grabbed her coffee, and left before she said anything they wouldn’t be able to take back, or live with. She was halfway to her office before she recognized the ache in her middle was gone.

Chapter Twenty-six

“So,” Emory said, leaning across Dana at the table and grasping Wes’s arm, “how did you meet Evyn?”

“We work together.”

“I remember her,” Dana said. “She was at the wedding. One of the agents.”

“That’s right,” Wes answered while watching Evyn thread her way through the crowd toward the back of the bar. She looked great tonight, in plain dark trousers and a white shirt. More than a few people watched her pass, and Wes struggled between possessiveness and pride. Both sensations were foreign.