Hidden Truth. Danica Winters

to the day. I like it,” he said, filling up his glass and turning around with a cheesy, oh-so-cute smile on his face.

      “The Cap’n and I have a long-term relationship,” she said, hugging the box to her chest like it was a bulletproof vest. “He knows just how to make me smile.”

      “I hear you. I’m a sucker when it comes to food.”

      “You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart,” Sabrina said, but as the words escaped her, she just as quickly wished she could rein them back in.

      Why couldn’t she just be normal around this guy—flirty, yet out-of-bounds? Instead, here she was saying things that she couldn’t have imagined herself saying when she was forced to take this assignment.

      “In that case,” Trevor said, grabbing a towel and dabbing at his forehead, “would you mind pouring me a bowl? I’ll be right back, just going to go put on a shirt.” He flipped the kitchen towel over his shoulder.

      Hold up, had he really just implied she could make her way into his heart? No. He couldn’t have meant anything like that.

      As he walked away she once again found herself staring at the little bead of sweat, which now sat at the subtle indent that marked the place where his hips met his back. Her gaze moved lower as he walked away. His shorts moved in perfect harmony with his round, toned behind.

      Yeah, she could touch that. Chances were, he would fit perfectly in the cup of her hand.

      Wait, he was playing her. She couldn’t fall for his abundant charms or his easy grace. No.

      She turned around and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and poured him some cereal, carefully setting the milk on the table beside it so he could add it in when he came back.

      Her phone pinged with an email. Checking around her to make sure no one was near before opening it, she unlocked her phone. There was a message from Mike. Just seeing his name pop up on her screen made her stomach clench. Just once, she would have liked to not have that feeling. It was stupid, really. His name would always pop up. He was too involved in her life for him to just disappear. If anything, she was foolish to think she would just get over him and be able to go back to work and pretend that nothing had happened between them.

      Maybe she would have been better off quitting her job and moving on to something else, but she had told herself she was a big girl—able to handle anything that life threw at her, that she would just have to accept the consequences that came with her choices…and yet she seemed to always die just a little every time she saw anything to do with her former flame.

      She hated him. Everything emotional he represented. He was the embodiment of all of her worst flaws—her inability to say no, to make people unhappy, and the weakness she felt when it came to the needs of her heart. If only she could turn the damned thing off, be cold, distant, professional.

      Opening the email, she read the encrypted note:

      Dear Ms. Parker,

      In regard to your findings at your current posting, we are and have been aware of your assignments’ past—including jobs dealing with long-gun usage. I’m glad to see you are finally making headway. Too bad it has taken you this long.

      If you fail to meet the goals and standards set forth in your proposal in a timely manner, the SAC has let me know that they will be forced to look elsewhere for a UC who is better qualified. You have a week.

      —M.C.

      What a bastard. Mike had known what Trevor was and he’d left it out of the case files he’d handed her. He was trying to get her fired.

      Of course.

      What had she been thinking, assuming her sentence would be simple banishment to a remote office as an undercover agent along with her former flame? The special agent in charge, or SAC, whom they’d been forced to report to regarding their relationship had put them together out here in the middle of nowhere, hoping that they would learn to get along and develop a new sense of trust with each other. But the move had been ill-advised. As it was, she had a feeling she was in a dog-eat-dog battle with her ex, and only one would leave this kennel alive.

      No big deal. She could do this. In fact, there was no better impetus for her to kick butt and take names than someone thinking she was incapable—or, in this case, Mike thinking he had the upper hand and assuming he could get rid of her that easily. She would show him, and the rest of the Bureau, exactly what she was made of.

      The door to the kitchen opened and Trevor walked in. His smile had disappeared.