A Shot at Love. Peggy Jaeger

of solace, like a child with a favorite blanket or toy.

      Why is she nervous?

      “I’ve been so wrapped up in thinking about how my life has been turned upside down with this whole situation. I never even considered what it might mean to the two of you, having to be stuck here with me. Being away from your families. Loved ones.” She looked down at the camera and then back up at Ky. “Wives.”

      The air in the room suddenly flared with an unseen electrical charge Ky couldn’t put a cause to. He swore her eyes changed colors: darkened from crystals to pale blueberries while she gazed across at him. Her sculpted brows pulled together above her eyes while she bit the inside of her cheek.

      “No worries on that front,” Jon told her. “Neither of us is hitched. Although,” he slanted a look at Ky, “it’s been rumored around the office Papps is married to his job.”

      The jest had its intended reaction. Gemma’s quick, unfiltered laugh broke the sudden tension at the table.

      She leveled her gaze at him. Ky couldn’t read what she thought about Jon’s statement in her eyes, if she believed it, or not, but the wall of wariness had fallen down.

      She turned to Jon and, with a gentle, questioning lift of her brows said, “And you’re not?”

      His own grin was fast and boyish. Ky knew what a flirt his partner was, and usually wasn’t bothered by it. Jon Winters was a top-notch agent, a crack shot, and there was no one else Ky wanted covering his back during a hairy situation.

      But he wished his partner would tone down the charm a little with Gemma Laine. That quick, hot bead of jealousy he swore he hadn’t felt yesterday had been a lie he’d told himself so he wouldn’t get blindsided. They had a job to do; several, in fact. Aside from keeping Gemma safe, they needed to find out who had leaked Calafano’s whereabouts to Ritandi and figure out another way they could put him away for good. Flirting with their present witness wasn’t a good idea. On any level.

      When he saw how easily and freely she interacted with his partner though, Ky knew the little stab in his midsection had a name.

      “No, ma’am,” Jon replied. “I’m too young and good looking to be tied down at this age. I’m single, bilingual, and ready to mingle.”

      Gemma’s gaze narrowed.

      “I’ve got a pretty good life outside the bureau. It’s a great job, but it’s just a job.”

      “Really?”

      “Yup. Life’s too short to make the job the be-all and end-all.”

      “Keep telling yourself that,” she said, her lips quirking. “Maybe someday you’ll actually convince yourself it’s true.”

      She turned to Ky while Jon let out a whoop.

      “Gorgeous, talented, and she can cut straight through the bullshit,” Jon said. “Finally I’ve found the girl of my dreams. Gemma Laine, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

      “No,” she answered, immediately. “Not in a million years.”

      Jon’s hands flew to his chest, a hurt pout on his face. With his eyes closed and clasped as if in pain, he declared, “You wound me, woman, to the quick.”

      “You’ll survive.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, a ghost of a grin billowing on her lips. “You’re too much of a playa not to.”

      For the first time Ky had an unfiltered view of her natural persona. Unguarded and quick, feisty, with just enough snark to be sassy but not derisive; this Gemma Laine was a delightful surprise.

      She turned her attention back to Ky. “To answer your question,” she said, ignoring Jon now, the mirth drained from her face, “you’re right, Kandy’s regular cooking show isn’t in production anymore. But she signed a new deal to give the network three cooking specials a year. She wanted a complete out, but EBS knows what a golden goose she is. They gave her carte blanche and a ridiculous payday as long as she agreed. I can see her devoting an entire hour to food like this,” she lifted her spoon, filled with stew, “so you’d better warn your mother and grandmother to be prepared for her call.”

      “They’d be honored,” he said.

      Honored? They’d be hysterical, but he didn’t say that out loud.

      He could picture them now, both women, plus his sister and his brothers’ wives, all standing in his mother’s kitchen, cackling away in Greek, each talking at the same time, offering their own special twist on a recipe.

      While they ate the rest of their meal, Jon asked Gemma questions about her family and her business, while Ky sat and listened.

      When they each rose and took their empty dinnerware to the sink, Jon reminded her it was his job to clean up.

      “You guys really don’t have to wait on me, you know,” she told them. “I’m used to doing things all on my own. I’m not useless.”

      “No one thinks you are,” Ky said. “Let Jon clean up, though. It keeps him humble.”

      “That’s one word for it,” his partner said while he filled the sink with water.

      “Come on,” Ky told Gemma. “I’ll show you the layout in the basement.”