Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (18 page)

I have to laugh as well. Christina is a force to be reckoned with.

“She came home from shopping with you with all new outfits and she was so happy. She was modeling for me and….” He trails off again, basking in his own thoughts.

“Good.” I’m glad. Christina means the world to me.

Nelson adds after a beat, “I would do anything for her, you know?”

“I know.” My voice scrapes against my throat like sandpaper. “I’m sorry I hurt her.”

“Hey, none of this was your fault, Harper. You know that, right?” Nelson shifts on the sofa and I chance a glance.

He’s as nervous as I am. We’re cut from the same cloth. We’re not good with the mushy stuff, yet we’d kill for those we love and cherish. Christina deserves the best. Someone who adores her, protects her, spoils her, and treats her like a queen. There’s no doubt in my mind now. Special Agent Brad Nelson is that man.

“Deep down, I know it’s not my fault, but you need to know, Nelson, I’m fine. Make sure she knows, okay?” I feel just as responsible. If I hadn’t gone half-cocked into that field on my own…this is why I don’t want to talk about this. It kills me to think about what the aftermath of my disappearance did to those I care for the most.

“Do any of you need a break?” Adams interrupts, startling me.

“I do,” I answer quickly. This was the most heartfelt conversation I’ve ever had with Nelson, and I’m still wrestling with my composure. I need some time alone.

“I’m going to the corner bodega to pick up more coffee. Anyone want anything?”

“We’re good.” Nelson gives me a conspiratorial look. He’s grateful for the interruption as well.

“Actually, can I have a burrito?”

Seriously? He polished all of my Garrett popcorn and I let it slide. How can he still be hungry?

“Sure, Adams. Anything else?”

“
Nah
, I’m good.”

I grab my purse and I’m almost out the door.

“Wait. Can you grab some chips, too?” Adams calls after me.

I sigh in annoyance. He’s just as bad as Charlie. “Would you like some cigarettes, too? Maybe some beef jerky?” I add sardonically.

He ponders a bit, unfazed. “No cigarettes, but I’ll take some beef jerky.”

My sarcasm was completely lost on him. I shoot my new partner one last glare as I stalk out the door into the night for some much-needed fresh air.

I breathe in a deep, cleansing lungful then exhale all that pent-up gloom accumulated upstairs, and expel it out into the night to be carried away by the wind.

CHAPTER 16

Ileana

Dinner at Nelson and Chris’s place will be far from cozy.

Tommy and I haven’t seen each other or spoken since our big fight at my place other than the occasional text message about housekeeping.

Any mail? How’s Mrs. N.? We still need to talk. I’m sorry.

My responses?
No. Fine. Ok.

I know Chris invited him tonight, but I didn’t call or text to remind him.

I doubt he’ll show. Work is apparently keeping him not only from me, but from our friends as well.

I dressed mechanically; slipping on my black skinnies, my tan suede booties, and a sheer, blush silky blouse with lacy trim. I grab my oversized bag, throwing my gear in there. Some light makeup and a quick brush through my hair, and I’m ready to go.

Right after they got married, Chris and Nelson moved into a gorgeous condo east of the city, not far from Navy Pier. It’s a bit of a drive, so I left with plenty of time to battle downtown Chicago traffic and stop to pick up an Eli’s turtle cheesecake per Chris’s request.

I knock on the Nelsons’ door and brace myself. At least it will be an amusing night, witnessing Chris give Adams the fifth degree and try to set him up.

Some people have golf or chess, or like me, the shooting range. Chris? She likes messing with people’s lives.

I knock again and try the doorknob. It’s unlocked, which means Chris is busy but she’s expecting me.

“Chris!” I call into the condo.

“In here!” she shouts from the kitchen.

As I enter, I spot Adams. His hair has that neat but casual style, and his clothes give off a pretty boy vibe. Loafers, cuffed jeans, and a long sleeve sweater with a collared shirt underneath. Sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and he’s sporting a shiny, bulky watch probably worth more than my rent.

“Hey, guys,” I say to Adams and Nelson as I pass the living room, and they shoot me a wave.

Fresh flowers greet me as I enter the kitchen, Chris beaming my way. She looks overly happy. Something is up.

Like a mini tornado, Chris works around the kitchen, fixing appetizers and checking the oven.

“So, what are we doing for Tommy’s birthday?” she asks absentmindedly over her shoulder. 

I busy myself making room inside her fridge for the cheesecake.

“Well, hello to you too,” I answer dejectedly, earning me a dirty look. “I haven’t thought about it, okay? Why don’t you surprise us?” I give her a sheepish smile.

Chris’s trademark scowl surfaces. “July fifteenth is around the corner. It’ll have to be epic.”

“I have complete faith in you.”

“What about a guest list?”

The spinach dip seems fascinating, so I concentrate on that, evading Chris’s scrutiny. “For guests to be present we would have to know people. Everyone we care about is here, other than Charlie. No invites needed.”

“What about his friends at the DEA?” she asks, smacking her lips together after nibbling on a cracker.

“You’ll have to ask him.” I’m not getting into this now, let alone with Christina. Before she continues, I change the subject. “Smells great. What are we having?”

“Beef roast with fingerling potatoes, maple glazed baby carrots, salad, and
tostones
.”

Chris catches my expression. “Plantains. They’re for Brad. He’s hooked.”

“Do you need help?”

“Yes, test my homemade sangria. Like a big gulp of it.” She shoves a glass of it in my face.

I eye her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

It’s college all over again. “I have to drive myself home, Chris. Why can’t you drink it?”

She turns her back on me. “Never mind.”

“Chris? You love your sangria.”

Something is definitely up. I scan the kitchen. There’s no wine glass in sight. She’s munching on crackers, and she’s not drinking.

“Oh my God…are you pregnant?” I whisper, unable to mask my shock.

“
Shh
!” She slams her spoon down, turning to me in warning. “Don’t say a word. I was late, like, really late, so I did a quickie test at work and it came back positive,” she rattles off quietly. “I have an appointment on Friday but I don’t want to tell Brad until I’m super sure I am. And if I am, I want to make sure everything is okay, so you can’t say anything. Swear to me, Ileana, you can’t say a word.” She finally inhales.

A slow smile spreads across my face as her words sink in.
Chris with a baby.
They’re going to have a baby.

“Say something,” she prods, studying my expression, her big brown eyes tinged with worry.

“Does this mean I’m going to be an auntie?” My heart soars for her. I’m so happy, I can’t stop smiling.

Chris nods, beaming at my words. Giggles erupt as we hold hands and jump in place, just like we used to when we were younger. She shushes me again, but I’m so giddy I have to force myself to dial it back.

“Not a word,” I assure her. I can’t stop from glancing down at her belly. She’s going to look so cute with a baby bump. I’m grinning again.

“You’re grinning. Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

She waves me off with a flick of her kitchen towel. “Now, get out of my kitchen. Go mingle.” She grins and now we’re both holding the secret. Nelson is going to flip.

“Okay.”

Joining Adams and Nelson by the large glass doors leading to the balcony, we overlook the Navy Pier. The view of the fireworks from this spot will be spectacular.

“Who did Ryan recruit to help him mind our post today?” I ask.

“He’s got Rios and Jensen to fill in for us. Now, zero shop talk or she’ll bite my head off.” Nelson quickly glances to the kitchen like a kid in trouble.

I suck at small talk, so I ask Adams if he had trouble finding the place. I have to store away my convo with Chris in the kitchen, because if I think of Nelson ending up with a mini-Chris…
wow
. Just when you think your love quota is full….

“Red or white?” Nelson raises an empty wine glass my way.

“Red.”

I take stock of their place as Nelson pours me a glass.

Chris has done an amazing job with the condo. It fits her and Nelson perfectly. It’s a mixture of both of their personalities. Cheerful, yet understated. Open, yet private. It’s not a living space; it is a home. Just looking at their quarters makes me realize how Tommy and I have grown apart. My apartment is just a mixture of both our material possessions instead of the culmination of our lives merging.

“Dinner is almost ready, Ileana, you want something to drink?” Chris shouts from the kitchen. “Brad, honey, get Ileana a drink,” she orders.

I can’t help but chuckle. I’m holding a glass of wine as she yells out, but Chris can’t help herself. Once bossy, always bossy.

“He’s on it, Chris, don’t you worry.” I give Nelson a pitiful look. If anyone can understand living with Christina Reyes, it’s me.

قلب

We help Chris bring the dishes out to the dining room.

“Smells delicious, Mrs. Nelson,” Adams praises and Chris gushes.

“
Aw
, you’re sweet. Please, call me Chris.”

“Chris.” Adams graces her with a boyish smile. “So, you and Agent Harper met in college?”

She glances my way, and I give her a cautious look. “Yes, freshman year. She was this scrawny girl with bangs. Super quiet and mousy.”

My silent warning goes off Chris’s way, but she sticks her tongue out at me, undeterred. “Don’t let her scare you,” she tells Adams. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”

Nelson coughs at the comment. I don’t think he’d agree with that assessment. He’s been at the receiving end of my wrath; he’s well versed in what happens when you hurt the ones I care about.

“So, do you have a girlfriend?” She slips it in casually as she passes the salad.

I choke on my drink while Nelson chews intently, devouring his towering pile of fried plantains. Adams just looks stunned. Poor bastard never had a chance.

“
Ah
. No, ma’am.” His panicked puppy-dog look returns.

He should be scared. Very, very scared. He’s about to fall into the clutches of Christina Reyes, busybody extraordinaire.

Raising my glass, I toast Adams, “Welcome to the club, Adams. You are about to have your life run by Mrs. Nelson, here.”

Nelson tries to suppress a smile. Chris shoots me her meanest glare but I stick my tongue out at her. I am well over two glasses of wine and sangria but it’s her fault.

Since she can’t say anything about her “condition” to her husband, she served herself sangria and when he was distracted, she switched her glass with mine. If Adams noticed, he didn’t say a word. After being around me, he knows to play along and go with the flow.

The second Nelson gets up to fetch the ketchup she switches our glasses again.

“Stop it,” I hiss in between my teeth in protest.

“Just chug it down and stop whining,” she scolds.

I do quick work of the sangria in a few big gulps, placing the empty cup in front of Chris and bestowing upon her the dirtiest glare I can muster.

“Don’t be such a lush for once, will you?” I sneer at her in reprimand. 

Nelson yells, “Come in!” from the kitchen and I have no clue who he’s talking to, until Tommy walks into the dining room.

“You got my text! I’m so glad you made it.” Chris beams as she gets up to greet him.

Adams gets up, adjusting his sweater as he waits to be introduced. I’m stunned into silence, and remain rooted in my seat. My knees, like the rest of my system, have betrayed me. I’ve been worried sick about him. I’ve wondered day after day about what he’s doing, what kind of danger he’s putting himself in. I’ve tried not to think about the last time we saw each other. The things he said.

And now, he’s here. And he looks amazing.

Dark pleated slacks, a dress jacket, and crisp, white shirt opened at the collar, showing the hollow of his throat.

Averting my gaze, I stare at my plate, moving my food around. But I sense Tommy’s eyes on me. That gaze penetrates my skin, making everything else around us blur into the background.

Nelson talks to him, but I know those bright green eyes examine me from head to toe. Schooling my features, I struggle to keep my composure. Can everyone in the room see inside my heart? His presence rattles me, beckons me to respond to him.

I can’t keep my eyes averted anymore.

Meeting his gaze, I’m terrified my feelings for him will seep out. My heart threatens to burst in anguish. I can’t do this, not here, and not in front of others.

“Tommy, this is Jack Adams. Jack, this is Tommy Colton.” Nelson makes the introductions, but Tommy barely gives Adams a second look. Those emerald daggers are buried deep inside my soul and his smile. God, that smile disarms me, unravels me without effort.

“Adams is my new partner at the bureau.” My voice wavers and Tommy flinches. I motion toward him, addressing Adams. “Colton is my old partner.”

Tommy’s face falls, his smile turning into a grim line. Chris’s expression matches his; even Nelson’s glare scolds me as if I said something wrong.

I cast my eyes back to my plate in shame. They all return to their seats. Tommy pulls out his chair, taking the seat next to me at the table. Chris and Nelson sit at the head of the table. Adams sits across from my seat.

“Hey, Lil,” Tommy says softly, his warm breath tickling my ear and his trademark scent filling my head.

Longing heats my skin, but I stay impassive. I can’t let him get to me.