“Was it?” He shrugged. “Who’s keeping count?”

Afraid he would see the emotion threatening her eyes, she looked down at the bandanas, picked up one and rubbed the fabric between her fingers. “This supply should last me awhile.”

“Depends on what you use them for.”

“They have lots of uses.”

In a voice husky with suggestiveness, he said, “I can think of several right off.”

She stood up and rounded the desk, but that was as far as she got before her knees went too weak to go farther. He pushed away from the doorjamb and walked toward her until only a few feet separated them. For the next few moments they just took each other in. His scar stood out against his scruff. His hair was uncombed and needed cutting. He looked completely disreputable and altogether desirable.

“How did you get past the guard in the lobby?” she asked.

“I’m a fed, remember?”

“Oh, right. You’re carrying an ID now?”

“No. I just got past the guard in the lobby.”

Naturally he had. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She motioned toward his left side. “How is it?”

“Good. Only pinches every now and then.”

She took a swift breath. “I’m so sorry for that.”

“I had it coming.” His eyes were as incisive as ever as they scaled down her and remained. “First time I’ve ever seen you in a skirt.”

“Shaw?”

“Damn. Those legs.”

“Shaw?”

“Hmm?” His eyes tracked back up to hers.

“I…I…” She stopped, then said on a gust of air, “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Your sign is gone.”

“What?”

“The one on the freeway. Extravaganza. Glitter letters. Fireworks. I came down to get some work done on the cherub. As I was driving in from the airport, I noticed your sign had been replaced by one with a bucket of fried chicken.”

“The billboard rental came up for renewal. I declined because the advertising budget is no longer up to me. My former employees pooled their resources and bought me out.”

“You sold your house, too.”

“Joe Wiley told you?”

“I called him from the car. He said y’all have been tying up all the loose ends.”

“I think—hope—that my part in the Panella-Bennett case will soon be over. But for a while yet I may be needed to verify this or that.”

“Wiley said Hickam’s able to put in half days now.”

“He’s thinner.”

“His happy tailor will get backlogged.”

She smiled. “Hickam does credit you with saving his life.”

“He’d’ve done the same for me.” He paused, then said, “So you’re leaving?”

“After everything…” She made a small gesture with her hands. “I have to make a change. Start fresh.”

“I get that.” He looked around the empty office before coming back to her. “Where are you going?”

“I haven’t decided.” Then she blurted, “You had work done on the cherub?”

“Oh. Yeah. It would’ve been cheaper to buy another one. But Mom put her there, and she loved the thing, so I had the missing arm replaced. Also had a landscaping service come in and clean up the courtyard, paint the staircase. It looks almost respectable.”

To cover the catch in her throat, she asked if he was going to make the townhouse in the Quarter his permanent address.

“No. It’ll still be a place I come back to.”

“When you need somewhere to lay low.”

He slid his hands into the rear pockets of his jeans. “Actually, I’m not working undercover these days.”

That goosed her. “What?”

“You remember the girl in Mexico?”

“Who would die bloody without better training?”

“I said that so many times to so many people that it finally made it to the wrong ears. Or the right ears, I guess. The right ears said if I didn’t want people dying bloody, why didn’t I start training them better? Piqued my interest. But I laid down some conditions.”

“Such as?”

“No relocation to Quantico. I’d get final say on accepting or rejecting a candidate, and I’d be a hard-ass because I’d be teaching them stuff that’s not in the handbook.”

“And?”

“No bureaucrat looking over my shoulder and harping about policy or proper procedure. I won’t have my methods second-guessed by someone who’s never wallowed in the gutter with the Panellas of the world.”

“And?”

“No necktie or haircut like Wiley’s. That would have been the real deal breaker.”

“What did they say?”

He raised a shoulder. “They said, ‘You got it.’”

“They must value what you have to offer.”

“Galled Hickam no end. Anyhow, I’m working out of a facility near Atlanta, the location of which is classified. Of course most of the training takes place outside the classroom.”

“That sounds exciting. Will you be—”

“Jordie?”

“What?”

“Enough of this shit.”

He was on her in an instant, his hands clasped around her head, his mouth on hers. They kissed with such heat and hunger that she was surprised when he ended it way too soon. “Jordie, when it all went down, I had to walk away. I—”

“I know.”

“I was still undercover. It was about to become a zoo.”

“I understand that. I do.”

“You weren’t seriously injured. I made Wiley swear to that on the heads of his children. So after completing all the official BS, I split.”

“And stayed away,” she said in a voice that was unexpectedly husky with emotion.

His regret plain, he sighed. “Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

He looked away, took a breath, came back to her. “Because I didn’t know how you felt about Josh and the way it ended. My bullet took him out.”

“They don’t know which—”

“I do. He didn’t feel it or any that came after. I couldn’t stand to see you hating me for that.”