Beyond Limits (Tracers #8)(17)

She’d seen their unusual brand of loyalty up close when she’d tried to get Derek to turn on his teammate Gage Brewer, who was suspected of murder. She’d poured her heart and soul into the effort, but it had been a waste of time. The brotherhood these guys talked about wasn’t just a slogan—it was something very real.

So the man sitting across from her now with the edgy, restless look in his eyes had lost a brother last week. It explained a lot.

“I’m sorry about Sean,” Elizabeth said, feeling totally inadequate.

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

The waitress reappeared to clear their plates away, and Derek gave her a smile, but it seemed forced. He glanced around the bar. If he noticed all the women sneaking glimpses in his direction, he didn’t let on.

He looked at her. “How about some darts?”

“What, now?”

“No, tomorrow.” He smiled and stood up, obviously ready to change the subject.

Not to mention the mood.

He left several twenties on the table and then put his hand at the small of her back and steered her to the bar. Just that light touch of his fingers made her nerves flutter. He was treating her like his date, and she liked it.

A lot.

He peeled off another twenty and handed it to a bartender in exchange for darts and another round of beers. Elizabeth watched him, pulse thrumming. He had a confident way about him that she found way too attractive. His gaze settled on hers as he passed her another beer.

She’d known this would happen. He’d invited her to dinner, but he wanted way more than dinner. He wanted the same thing he’d wanted last summer when she’d been investigating his best friend.

He wanted sex.

And he wanted information.

And he wanted sex.

Almost a year had gone by since then, and she’d spent many solitary moments thinking about him. And the situation hadn’t changed. He was using her. Not in a malicious way, really. In fact, she understood it. He had an unshakable sense of mission. But he was using her just the same.

“You ever played cricket?” he asked, claiming an empty board.

“Think I remember it.”

“Ladies first,” he said, and handed her the darts.

She stepped up to the board and paused a moment to get her head in the game. Then she took a deep breath and made her first throw.

She smiled. “Triple twenty.”

“Not bad.” He tipped back his beer. “Looks like you spent some time on frat row when you were in Charlottesville.”

She glanced at him.

She’d never mentioned she went to the University of Virginia. He’d been checking up on her, and he wanted her to know it.

“Not me.” She sipped her beer and rested the bottle on a ledge beside him. “I was the geek always holed up in the library.”

“Who taught you darts?”

“My dad.” She threw another one. Outer bull’s-eye this time.

“He must be good.”

“He was. Darts, pool, fishing. He taught me all of it. I was the son he never had.” She glanced over and saw by his expression that he’d noticed the past tense. “He died when I was twelve.”

“It’s a shame he never saw you graduate from the Academy,” Derek said. “Bet he would have been proud.”

Derek was right. As a public prosecutor, her dad probably would have been pleased to see his only child go into law enforcement.

“My mom was there,” she told him. “And my stepdad.” Which wasn’t nearly the same, because she didn’t even get along with her mother. She made her last throw. Triple twenty again. He watched her, obviously expecting her to say more. But she didn’t like to talk about her family.

She wrote the score on the chalkboard, ignoring his expectant look.

Ever since her dad died, she’d had this feeling of being adrift. Her mother had felt it, too, and she’d run straight from her grief into the arms of an older husband. For years, Elizabeth had felt so much anger toward her for replacing her dad so quickly. And for giving into such blatant insecurity.

Elizabeth had tried to create her own security, using good grades and hard work. She’d set goals for herself and then stubbornly pursued them. She recognized the same trait in Derek—his relentless need to push. His tenacity. She doubted he’d be like that in a relationship, though. He was a SEAL. It defined him and dominated his life, and he couldn’t truly commit to anything more.

But so what? Since when was she looking for commitment?

Derek watched her over his beer as she plucked the darts from the board. She knew the gleam in his eye, and it put a familiar tingle in her stomach. She’d never aspired to be one of his one-night stands. But there was something thrilling about the idea, too. She imagined spending an entire night with him and not letting herself regret a minute.

A cheer went up across the bar. She glanced at a TV as the Diamondbacks scored a home run.

She handed over the darts, and Derek stepped up to the board.

“So this task force you’re on,” he said. “You managed to narrow down the target yet?”

“You mean in Houston?”

“I grew up in Houston.” He threw a sixteen. “It’s a pretty target-rich environment. You’ve got the ship channel, the refineries, a former POTUS. And then there’s about six million people who’d be affected if someone managed to get a dirty bomb into the country.”