Confirm you did not inflict grave bodily harm upon Special Agent Ryker’s person. Also confirm my CI is ok.
Confirming I did not inflict grave bodily harm upon Special Agent Ryker (just a big lump on his head which actually served to diminish his gigantic ego). Your CI is fine. TY 4 asking.
As Izzy tossed the phone back into her bag she wondered why Maddox would text her. All he had to do was ask Flynn how he was. Maybe he didn’t want to rock the boat.
Her phone chirped that she had a new message.
Charlie: O.M.GAWD! Plz tell me you are safe and sound with Special Agent Stud?
Xoxox I am.
Le sigh
Maddox: 10-4 stand by later this afternoon for an update. Delete this thread.
Yes, sir!
Setting the phone on the nightstand Izzy smiled. The texts from Maddox and Charlie warmed her heart. They cared about her. She liked being cared about. Why couldn’t Flynn put aside his issues and relax around her? As complex and frustrating as Flynn was, he was the one who was there last night. Had he not been, there was a good chance she would not be alive this morning. Izzy owed him her life. She owed him a little patience, too.
Her feelings for Flynn aside, it was past time to call a truce. Accept that while he had his issues with her, none of which she cared for, she could live with them. That was the easy part. The hard part was getting a grip of her feelings for him. Flynn was one of a kind, he’d gone where no man had gone: straight into her heart.
He was a magnet to her steel. Law of attraction personified. She could kick herself for letting him get under her skin. Life was so much simpler with no complications.
On that note, Izzy stretched again, then checked out the bathroom, did her thing, and washed up. Feeling slightly more prepared to face the storm that was sure to be brewing somewhere in the house, she went in search of Grumpy Man.
She found him in the solarium off the kitchen. His back to her, he was barefoot, dressed in a white T-shirt and gray sweats. Her fingers twitched, wanting to run across the wide expanse of his shoulders. Silently, she walked across the tile floor to him.
“There’s coffee on the sideboard, and eggs and bacon on the counter,” he said, looking up at her as she moved around the small table he was seated at. He closed his laptop and looked straight at her.
Suddenly she was nervous. Her tummy did a little flip-flop. She didn’t stand a chance. Morning stubble darkened his face, and his dark hair, usually neatly styled, was mussed. The planes and valleys of his muscles were clearly defined beneath the T-shirt. Those cobalt blue eyes of his burned bright. Warmth pooled low in her belly. She suspected morning sex with him would be phenomenal.
Biting her bottom lip, Izzy tried to steer her thoughts away from his body and how compatible it was with hers. “I—ah…” she stuttered. Glancing at the coffeepot on the buffet, she hurried to pour herself a cup. After she added the cream and stirred, she lifted the cup to her lips and sipped. “Mmm, Jamaican Blue Mountain. My favorite.”
Taking another sip, Izzy picked a piece of bacon off the plate on the counter and moved to the table and took the chair across from Flynn, who quietly watched her. Feeling uncomfortable under his silent regard, she set the cup down and nibbled the bacon. When she looked over at him, he was scowling.
“You do that a lot,” she said, setting the half eaten piece of bacon down.
“Do what?”
“Scowl.”
“A lot makes me unhappy lately.”
Nervous energy rolled through her. “I’m not going to apologize for who I am or what I do, Flynn. That it makes you unhappy is on you.”
“I didn’t say you made me unhappy.”
His remark surprised her, but Izzy was smart enough not to go down that road with him again. It would end up in the same dead end it always did. Baby steps. Instead, she said, “I will however apologize for not thanking you last night for saving my life. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
He reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip. Her eyes riveted on the sensual fullness of his lips and the sheen of coffee on his upper lip. Hard shards of desire jabbed at her core. Squirming in her seat, she tried to suppress the craving. Didn’t work.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and took another sip.
“How is your head this morning?”
“Tender.”
“I’m sorry for whacking you with that wrench.”
“Apology accepted.”
When he didn’t offer more conversation, Izzy sat quietly and tried to enjoy her coffee. Having him so near, looking sexy and acting so aloof did the opposite of what it should have done. It made her want to engage him, not push him away, damn it! What she wouldn’t give to get inside this complicated man’s head. It was futile, though. He’d wrapped himself up tight.
“So, don’t you have a job to go to or does the FBI keep banker’s hours these days?”
“I had some time coming, so I took it.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he took time for her, but she squashed it. Even if he had, he’d make it not about her. Seriously, she needed to move forward with her plan instead of waiting for him to throw her a crumb.
When she snuck a glance at him, she found his brooding gaze still focused on her.
Biting her bottom lip, feeling like a germ beneath a microscope, Izzy looked around the solarium and smiled. There in the window was a pink Gerber daisy planter. Beaming, she looked at Flynn. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Shrugging it off, he said, “They were selling them at the store. I thought you might like it.”
Raising her brows, she fought down the grin she couldn’t fully control and said, “You thought I might like it?”
Abruptly, he stood and walked over to the buffet and poured himself another cup of coffee. “Yes, you.”
Why did he have to make it so hard? Her smile receded as the urge to poke at his feelings for her enticed her. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose. Why not find out where she stood, or could have? Not, she told herself, that it would matter.
It hit her like a sledgehammer that she had made a mistake. Flynn’s demeanor this morning left no doubt to anyone who was paying attention that he wasn’t interested. There was no sign of the man who’d brought her home last night. This man was cold. Disengaged.
“Do you think if we had met before I started working at Surf’s Up, things could have been different between us?” She wanted to hear the words, not speculate.
Flynn nearly choked on the coffee he’d just swallowed. Stunned, he looked at her. “What?”
Pointedly, she said, “I didn’t stutter.”
Flynn stared at her for several long seconds before he said, “I told you the night we met, I don’t do the commitment thing.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t.”
“Neither do I, but at least I’m honest about why I don’t.” She set her cup down and stood up. “Especially with a man like you.”
“Is this where you insult me to make yourself feel better?”
“No.” Setting her hands on her hips, she elaborated. “Actually, it wouldn’t make me feel better. I feel pretty crappy because I wish you weren’t you. If you weren’t, then maybe I would break my rule and try.” Since she had nothing to lose, Izzy let him have the truth. “I would have put aside everything that scares me and let you in. For you, and only you, I would have been brave enough to try. To see what all the fuss was about. I was willing, Flynn, to give you a part of me I’ve never given anyone else. And I’m not talking about my hymen. But you threw it in my face, treated me like something you scraped off your shoe.” Tears stung her eyes now. “You didn’t even give me the chance to show you who I was, you just made assumptions, and your ego couldn’t handle them.” She moved in on him. “That’s the person I wished you weren’t. Because that other guy? The one who showed me the light? Who promised to help me, who cooked breakfast for me, who took me on a fabulous ride to the coast and introduced me to champagne? The guy who made me feel safe, the one who made me laugh? That guy? That’s the guy I would have given it all up for. But he never gave me a chance.”