Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(54)

“Nice,” Cameron said approvingly. “Let’s talk about that instead.”

For the next few minutes, they swapped caseload horror stories, gossiped about a particularly ill-tempered judge in their district, and discussed which law clerk they should assign the ignominious task of cleaning the trial prep room. They were interrupted by a call from Cameron’s secretary.

“Collin’s here to see you,” she said when Cameron answered. No last name was necessary; in the last four years, her secretary had become familiar with Collin’s frequent visits.

“Thanks, send him back.” She nodded at Rob, who waved good-bye on his way out. About twenty seconds later, he was replaced by Collin.

“You sounded terrible on the phone,” he said from the doorway, referring to the quick conversation they’d had about an hour ago. “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“I had a tough day in court.” Cameron checked her watch. “It’s four o’clock. I can’t leave work now. It would be . . . indecent.”

Collin laughed. “You’re running yourself ragged these days between work, Amy’s bachelorette party, and that other business we can’t talk about here. You need a break. Come on, counselor—I’ll treat you to a flight at 404 Wine Bar.”

It was tempting. Cameron eyed him knowingly. “You just finished a column, didn’t you?” She could always tell.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend quality time with my best friend when she’s had a rough day?” Collin asked innocently. “As for whether I also happened to be particularly insightful and witty while writing today, well, you’ll just have to see for yourself in tomorrow’s paper. It’ll be the big column about sports stuff under my picture.”

Cameron threw him a wry grin—very funny. Yet despite the pile of work she had stacked on her desk, and also despite the fact that she sensed that Collin was in another one of his god-among-men insufferable moods, she thought that a drink with her best friend didn’t sound like too bad of an idea right then.

So for the first time in her four years as a prosecutor, she shocked everyone in the office, including herself, by leaving early.

OFFICER HARPER ENTERED the kitchen, having finished his check of the second and third floors of Cameron’s house.

“We’re all clear.” He looked at his partner, Officer Regan, who had checked the main level. “You good?”

Regan nodded. “We’re good.”

Cameron followed them to the door and locked it behind them.

“So what do they do now?” Collin asked. He’d taken a seat at the counter while the cops had done their walk-through.

“They’ll follow us to the bar and wait outside until the night shift shows up.”

“Why do I get the feeling that things are more interesting when Jack Pallas is around?” Collin teased.

“Things with Jack have gotten a little . . . complicated lately,” Cameron said.

“Complicated” was certainly one way to describe it. On Saturday night, after she and Jack had rejoined Wilkins, Amy, and the rest of the bachelorette party, they’d barely said two words to each other—the two words on her part being “thank you” after he and Wilkins made sure the house was secure when they dropped her and Amy off, and the two words on his part being “you’re welcome.” She hadn’t heard from nor seen Jack since.

Which was just fine with her. Really. Over the last five days she’d had time to sort through her emotions. Sure, she and Jack had done Those Things She’d Never Admit in a random office in a nightclub, but she’d decided this was all simply part of that post-traumatic stress she’d been fighting off lately. She’d been on some crazed high after the excitement of the power outage, had gotten riled up, and Jack just happened to be there. With his mouth on her br**sts.

Tell me.

Let me touch you.

Cameron felt a little flushed every time she thought back to that evening. Apparently, there was one level on which she and Jack had no problem communicating openly.

She filled Collin in on the events of Saturday night, leaving out the most racy parts. Which was odd, because normally she told Collin everything. But some of the things between her and Jack felt . . . private.

“Sounds like I missed quite a party,” Collin said when she’d finished. “So where do you and Jack go from here?”

“Nowhere,” Cameron said with emphasis. Hadn’t he been paying attention to the post-traumatic stress part? She’d mentioned that point at least six times. “Saturday night was nothing. A fluke.”

Collin threw her a skeptical look. “Babe, I hope you’re at least fooling yourself with that.”

Nope, not really. “All right. So I’m physically attracted to Jack,” Cameron conceded. It was a big step for her to admit even that much out loud. “Who wouldn’t be? You’ve seen him.”

“Rugged hotness, sex in a shoulder harness—yep, I’m familiar.”

“Right. But I can conquer a physical attraction. I mean, he told thirty million people I had my head up my ass. What kind of self-respecting woman would I be if I fell for a guy like that?”

“It would be somewhat ironic,” Collin agreed.

“Plus, he doesn’t even like me,” Cameron added.