“I’m so glad you did.” Emma led the way over to the kitchen, struggling to remember if she even owned a vase, let alone where she would’ve kept such a thing. “I have to admit, I only recognize the lavender. What are these other flowers?”

  “Those white ones are anemones.” Mia lifted an empty ceramic pitcher out from a cabinet. “And the pink ones are camellias.”

  Oren slid onto a stool, nodding when Emma held up the box of tea in offering. “Your friend’s right. The florist called it her winter bouquet, and I couldn’t resist. And…Mia, you said? What do you do?”

  “I’m on the same team as Emma with the Bureau’s VCU.” She chuckled when Oren barked a laugh. “What, surprised?”

  “I shouldn’t be, no. Just…thinking I may be wading in over my weight class. Considering the view.” He aimed his blue eyes over toward Emma, holding her gaze until her cheeks warmed.

  Yeah, you’re not the only one.

  Emma busied herself making another round of tea, letting Mia chatter on behind her. The other woman was far more comfortable in an unexpected social situation like this than Emma could ever be. Which was terrific, because it gave her some time to process the gorgeous flowers and the sweet gesture, as well as the turn the night had taken.

  Over and over, Oren kept surprising her. Even after their one date, Emma couldn’t help thinking the man was a godsend.

  Sure, he didn’t know she spoke to or saw ghosts, but she almost suspected that if she did admit it, he’d take it in stride. If…or when? Was that possible, now that she’d told Mia, who hadn’t taken off running or insisted she belonged in a psychiatric hospital?

  She glanced over at him just as he swept some of his unruly brown hair away from his brow. He was talking about some trail or another.

  Now she knew how he kept that tan glowing in the winter. He hiked. Because of course he did. And she’d been saying she needed someone who’d encourage her to be more physical…

  By the time Emma had a mug of tea ready for Oren and a second round for herself and Mia, as well as some cookies set out for snacking, Oren had settled into talking about his afternoon spent leading friends on a hike around Great Falls Park.

  As he spoke of the ice frozen into pools, the slick path, the forest, and the call of the river, his love of nature took over the warm kitchen as if the falls were encroaching on Emma’s urban apartment. Another person would’ve made the nearby attraction sound mundane, or else over-romanticized the location to the point of absurdity. Oren and his deep voice, though…

  “You two should’ve seen the melting snow and ice,” Oren continued. His blue eyes left Emma’s only often enough to make sure Mia felt included—a fact that Emma didn’t miss—and Emma couldn’t help blushing each time he looked back at her. “The way the icicles dripped down from the stone was magnificent. People say they don’t like hiking in the cold, but it’s a whole different world.”

  Different world or not, I could listen to this man talk about paint drying. No, cement drying. No wonder he’s such a popular yoga instructor.

  “Truly, there’s no need to go so far as the Amazon or Antarctica to appreciate nature.” A chuckle rumbled from Oren’s throat, and he reached out to place one large, warm hand on Emma’s knee, gentle and suggestive. “As long as you’re with a guide who knows the area, the falls are gorgeous—”

  The buzzing of Emma’s and Mia’s phones interrupted him, and Emma offered a quick apology for the distraction.

  Both of their phones going off at the same time meant only one thing. Work.

  Mia read her text out loud. “Bring go bags in the morning. New case. Confirm receipt.”

  Emma sighed, shooting Oren an apologetic shrug even as she reached for her own phone to confirm that she’d gotten the message. “Looks like I’ll need a rain check for tomorrow night’s date. I’m sorry, Oren.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it as well, but I’ll be here when you get back.” His easy grin hinted at more than casual flirtation, and Emma’s cheeks blushed hot. The man knew how to get to her. There was no question. “You two have to go save the world. I understand. Just promise you’ll call when you get back?”

  Nodding, Emma worked on finding her voice, which had disappeared somewhere down into her belly.

  Mia stood up with a sigh. “Actually, if you two don’t mind, I need to get home and do some laundry if we’re heading out of town tomorrow. Oren, it’s been an absolute pleasure to meet you.” She shook his hand, giggling when he accompanied it with a little half bow. “Emma, walk me to the door?”

  Emma trailed a hand along Oren’s bicep as she passed him. “Be right back. You’ll stay for a while?”

  He gripped her hand and kissed it, sending a tremor of nervous thrills through her blood before she stepped away. His lips were so gentle on her skin…

  Swallowing down the instinct to purr like a kitten, Emma took a deep breath and followed Mia to the door. When she’d opened it and stepped outside, she even managed to bring herself just a bit down from the clouds. “See you in the morning?”

  The other woman’s elfin features lit up into a real smile. “Yeah, and you two have fun. He seems really nice.”

  “He is.” Emma shot a glance back at Oren, who’d politely turned away and focused on his tea to give them some privacy. “You’ll be okay? I know tonight was a lot.”

  Mia gave her a quick hug, whispering, “I’ll be fine. I’m glad you told me everything, and I guess…I guess there’s no hurry. Seriously, you and Oren have fun. Enjoy the night. Hopefully, Ned won’t interrupt it. One Logan on your impromptu date is enough.”

  Emma stifled a laugh. “True enough.”

  “Tomorrow, though…we have a lot to figure out.”

  Nodding against her shoulder, Emma didn’t bother answering. Mia’s comments had just about summed up the story of her life lately.

  3

  “Eat some more, Leo. You don’t want to disappoint your yaya, now, do you?”

  Leo grinned as his grandmother winked at him, sliding a second honey-sweetened helping of her famous baklava onto his plate before he could object. The morsel practically begged to be devoured.

  When in Iowa…enjoy Iowan treats?

  Leo hadn’t expected to be in Iowa, but his brother, Aleksy, had called last week, saying their grandmother had taken a fall. Knowing he’d been gone from home too long, Leo seized the stretch of days that opened up after his team’s last case. So far, his stomach was pleased with his decision.

  He eyed the pastry before taking a bite and humming with satisfaction, enjoying how it made Yaya’s cheeks dimple with a smile. The expression lit up her whole kitchen even more than the modern lamps his brothers had installed last summer, a project Leo was supposed to help with before being drawn into dealing with smugglers in Fort Lauderdale. Another time when he’d let down Yaya, leaving his brothers to pick up the slack.

  “You should come home more often. I’ll fatten you up. You’re too concerned with staying trim. You need to enjoy life!” She shuffled over to the country-style worktable in her little kitchen, where she’d spread enough food for their whole family, even though it was just the two of them.

  Her dress brought home the point even more. She wore her Sunday best—and had worn such clothes ever since he’d arrived a few days before—because his visit was a special occasion. Her long hand-sewn skirts and embroidered sweaters reminded him of all the times her cheeks had dimpled over his “gentleman dress clothes” for church.

  And she hadn’t changed much since those days either. Maybe she dyed her hair black and didn’t curl it quite so often, and maybe her makeup was added with a bit more discretion…but she was still his one and only Yaya, loving and faithful and endlessly giving.

  Especially when it came to food.

  The sight of the various Greek delicacies made Leo homesick, even though he sat in the very house where he grew up. He came home so rarely that Yaya treated the short visits as if they were grand occasions. She wanted her family around more, certainly…but it was also a sign that she missed him—the one grandson who’d moved so far away that a trip home meant an expensive flight instead of a fifteen-minute car ride.

  “Yaya.” Leo sat back, the second baklava half gone. “You’ve outdone yourself. But don’t think I didn’t see that little belly Aleksy was carrying around. I’m not just staying fit for vanity, you know? I stay fit so I can help people.”

  She paused in her fussing over the remaining grape leaves that she hadn’t rolled into dolmathakia, her smile shrinking just enough to wrench at his gut. “I know, my angel. I know. But who helps you? When are you allowed to help yourself? To live for yourself!” She waved a hand at the calendar on the wall before going back to the leftover ingredients. “Time passes you by. You live your life for everyone else, but when will you settle down and be happy? Come October, you’ll be thirty-two. I expected great-grandbabies by now.”

  She chuckled over what she was doing, and Leo sipped the water in front of him, washing down the pastry. He wished the woman was joking, but she wasn’t.

  Dang it.

  “Leo, Leo, Leo.” She waved a loaf of fresh bread at him in admonition, the length of it already wrapped for storage. “You need a family of your own. Everyone does.”

  Everyone? Maybe. Me…hell if I know. Not now, though.

  Not. Now.

  “That’ll come, Yaya,” he turned in his seat, facing her, “but you have to be patient.”

  She clucked her tongue, shaking her head like every worrying yaya in history. “How will you ever be able to have a family while working such a dangerous job, hmm? You couldn’t have been a doctor? A lawyer? A contractor? Like any one of your brothers? Oh no, you had to go off and save the world. FBI.”

  Yaya muttered something more in Greek as he took another sip of water before breaking down and pouring himself some wine from the carafe in the middle of the table.

  In Yaya’s house, beer of any kind was considered sacrilege, but he made do.

  She noticed the wine and grinned. “Ah, I’ll civilize you yet! And then you’ll buy some nice girl a bottle of red wine, bring her home, and bring me great-grandbabies. Everything in order, eh?”

  Before he could stop it, a flash of Denae Monroe, his teammate and occasional date, formed in Leo’s mind. Her smooth dark skin and bright, cheerful smile shot through his brain like lightning. To his horror, his cheeks began to burn.

  When Yaya chuckled, he knew he’d been caught.

  The urge to rise and help her clean up tugged at him—just to get out of the conversation—but he pushed it down. She’d only stop cleaning up herself and try to force him to eat more food.

  “Yaya, my baby brothers will be giving you great-grandbabies before you know it. You’ll have to make so much baklava to keep them happy that you’ll regret ever offering me seconds.”

  To emphasize his point, he shoved another honey-sweetened bite into his mouth and made a chef’s kiss in a gesture of perfection.

  She laughed, the sound of her joy bubbling out of her just like it had all through his childhood. Always finding the goodness in a situation. Always searching out the silver lining he had such a hard time holding onto.

  “And I might get around to giving you great-grandbabies someday too.”

  Whether he believed the sentiment or not, there was no hurt in offering the consolation. Not with the way it made her smile anyway. Plus, this was as close as they got to seeing eye to eye when it came to his career choices. “But give me time, okay? Thirty-one isn’t exactly ancient.”

  She scoffed as he drank some more water, then she scooted by him to the fridge, patting him on the head as she went, as if he were still a ten-year-old boy. In her mind, he supposed, he probably was.

  When his phone buzzed in his pocket, she gave him a pointed look even before he could make excuses. “I know, I know. Go on.” She waved him out of the room, and he raised the phone to his ear even as he headed toward the front door and the privacy of his childhood home’s front porch.

  The chill of the February air hit his face. And the dream, which had been haunting him for weeks, jumped to the forefront of his mind. In it, Leo stood right where he stood now, on the front porch of his grandparents’ home. He watched his grandfather, his papu, run toward the house. Behind Papu, the trees came alive with a pack of wolves, loping and panting. As Papu sprinted, the wolves merged together, forming one giant, white-eyed creature with teeth like daggers.

  “The path to the wolf is covered in innocent blood.”

  Leo didn’t recognize the voice in his dream. But he remembered it.

  His shiver had nothing to do with the icy air.

  He shook himself, refocusing on his supervisor’s phone call. It had to be something serious for her to interrupt personal time off.

  “Jacinda, how’s it going?” He eased the front door shut behind him, knowing he’d get a lecture if he let it go and allowed a slam to shake the front hall.

  “All right. You enjoying your trip?”

  Small talk. Not a good sign when it’s Jacinda making it.

  Last time she’d asked him how he was doing—back in their Miami days—she’d convinced him to go undercover as a high school English teacher for a few weeks, and he’d made a grand fool of himself. They got their unsub, but not before he walked around with the sign Bite me taped to his back for half a day and mixed up Ernest Hemingway with F. Scott Fitzgerald for the whole of a week’s lesson.

  No, small talk was the sign of a big ask when it came to Jacinda.

  “Uh, yeah. Iowa in February’s a far cry from the tropics and cervezas beachside, but it’s good to be home. Great seeing my grandmother these last few days, even if she might’ve added an inch to my waistline.”

  “Ha, well, I hope she hasn’t slowed you down too much.” Jacinda paused, and Leo cringed. Here comes the punchline. “Leo, I’m calling because we’ve caught a case and we need all hands on deck. In West Virginia this time. I need you to come home a few days early so we can get a jump start on this thing in the morning.”

  “Figured that was coming.” He held in a sigh, but knew Jacinda heard the emotion anyway. “I’ll get on a flight as soon as I—”

  “We’ve already got you covered. You’re booked out of Iowa City into Chicago tonight. Then take the red-eye from Chicago to Charleston, West Virginia. There’ll be a car waiting to get you to the bed-and-breakfast where we’ll be staying in Eklund, and where we’ll meet up with you tomorrow.”

  Groaning, Leo leaned back against the house and closed his eyes. Not even one more night of rest, which meant this was worse than he’d thought. It also meant his grandmother’s hopes of the two of them settling in for an old movie and neighborhood gossip were done for.

  Not to mention the idea of a red-eye set his nerves on edge. His nightmares had let up some over the last few days, but it’d be just his luck to wake up screaming on an airplane, surrounded by civilians.

  Still, he took a breath of the cold night air, knowing perfectly well what he had to do. “What time’s my flight?”

  “Ten. You’ve got three-and-a-half hours before takeoff. Good enough?”

  “It’ll have to be, I guess. Don’t expect any favors from my grandmother in the near future.”

  Jacinda laughed. “I’d tell you to give her my apologies, but I know it wouldn’t matter. I am sorry, though. I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t a serious situation.”

  Nodding into the phone, Leo said what he had to—that he understood, which he did—and closed out the call. Details for his flights would come to him any minute via text, but for now, he needed to get to packing.

  And talking to Yaya. Maybe he’d even ask her to give him some of that homemade bread for a late-night snack. TSA would let an FBI agent slide on carrying his grandmother’s bread through the security gate, right? No hurt in trying.

  With a quick glance out at the old neighborhood, he tucked his phone away and turned back to the door. Work had beckoned him.

  But explaining the premature departure date to his grandmother?

  Hell, that would be a job in and of itself.

  4

  Monday morning, Emma parked just an aisle over from where two Bureau Expeditions sat awaiting their team, proof that wherever they were going was considered driving distance from D.C. Since Jacinda’s text hadn’t offered anything beyond the most basic information, she’d wondered if they’d have to catch a flight. Now, with a winter storm coming, Emma was glad to see the SUVs had been decked out with snow tires.

  The week was supposed to get messy fast, and Emma just hoped that sentiment applied only to the roads.

  Climbing out with her go bag in tow, she glimpsed a leggy woman heading out of the Bureau’s front entrance, Jacinda walking alongside her. The vaguely familiar woman wasn’t part of their team.

  Pale skin, close-set eyes, and a walk that spoke of centuries of confidence. Is she descended from royalty? Emma was lost in wonder. The woman’s strawberry-blond hair swung out in a sudden gust of wind.

  Mia let out a choked curse as she stepped up beside Emma.

  That was when Emma remembered that Special Agent Sloan Grant had recently transferred from Richmond to the D.C. Counterterrorism Division. And, not quite so recently, she was the reason for Ned Logan’s broken heart…just before his so-called accident.

  Talk about a shitty way to start a case.

  Mia’s petite frame was a tense ball of potential energy beside her. Emma knew Mia had placed part of the blame for her brother’s death on Sloan. Before Ned had climbed into his car and taken his fatal drive, he’d proposed marriage to Sloan. The elegant agent had rejected him. So when Ned drove off into the night, he was emotionally wrecked long before he crashed.

  If he crashed.

  In spite of the new information about Ned’s death, Mia appeared to still harbor feelings of resentment and blame—if Emma was judging her tight expression correctly.

  If Sloan felt the intensity of Mia’s dislike, she wasn’t showing it.

 

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