Dark of Night (63 page)

He turned. And grinned. And held out his arms.

She launched herself into them, and he swung her around. “We did it.”

“It was really him?” she asked.

“Already got a fingerprint match,” he said. “You'll get a chance to do an ID, but it's definitely him.”

And then, God, Decker was kissing her. Right there. In front of
everyone.

The past two weeks had been crazy. They'd determined, early on, that Gavin Michaelson had not only bugged Jo Heissman's computer, but that he'd also tapped her phone and planted a surveillance device in her home.

So Tracy and Deck had staged a public split, right in front of the doctor, hoping that she would discuss it with the guards who were assigned to
watch
her,
24/7, after Michaelson's escape. Decker had been afraid that Michaelson wouldn't feel secure enough to try to attack Tracy if he thought she and Deck had a romantic connection.

But Jo hadn't talked about their faked fight with anyone, so Lindsey had made a point to take a shift at Jo's house, and while there,
she'd
discussed it extensively. She'd also made sure to announce that Tracy was resisting the need for round-the-clock guards, and was, against all advice, preparing to move back to New York.

Fighting with Deck hadn't been that hard to do, although it had made Tracy feel oddly unsettled—until later that night, when he'd climbed in her bedroom window.

Yeah.

For over two weeks, Decker's presence in her life had been covert. During the day, she'd pretended she wanted nothing to do with him— even during the rare few times he'd dropped by to “check in on her.” That had been oddly fun.

Still, she'd found herself waiting impatiently for the night, never knowing exactly when he'd show up—he was usually late—or even how he'd get into her apartment. Sometimes she'd just walk into her bedroom to find him reading as he sat, legs outstretched, on her bed. He'd look up at her and smile and …

Needless to say, it had been a strange two weeks, her days filled with anxiety and tension over the threat from Michaelson, her nights filled with laughter and intimacy and
the
best sex—despite their having to be quiet and discreet—of her entire life.

And then, today, they'd set up the final part of their con, leading Michaelson to believe that they thought he was on the verge of attacking Jo Heissman. Three of Tracy's guards had gone to provide backup at Jo's house—which had left Tracy underprotected and vulnerable. She made a phone call on a non-secure line, pretending to be exasperated at her “captivity” and expressing her certainty that Michaelson was no longer a threat to her. She proclaimed she was going out, guards be damned.

Tracy had helped Tess with her makeup and wig, and lent her her favorite jeans and jacket, her second favorite pair of shoes, and …

It had worked.

And now Decker was kissing her in front of everyone.

Someone—Sam Starrett—started to applaud.

Tracy felt Decker laugh, and she pulled back to look up at him.

“We can finally go out,” he told her. “You want to go out to dinner tonight?”

She nodded, but then shook her head. No. “I'd rather stay in,” she told him. “It would be nice to be here, just the two of us.” And wasn't
that
an understatement. “I could cook you dinner, and, um …”
You could lick it off of me.
She didn't say the words aloud, but then again, she didn't need to. Over the course of the past few weeks, Lawrence Decker had learned to read her mind.

He smiled, heat simmering in his eyes. And when he spoke it was not to answer her, but rather to address the FBI agents and other operatives who were lingering in her apartment. “Let's clear out of here, let's go. Move it out.”

Tracy laughed. “I'm thinking you want your dinner early.”

“Damn straight,” he said, laughing too.

“Any chance we could go out tomorrow?” she asked. “During the day?”

He nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I can make that happen,” he said. “I don't blame you, needing to get some fresh air.”

“Actually,” Tracy said, “I want to go shopping.”

Decker didn't flinch, he didn't wince, he didn't even blink. “I'm up for anything,” he said bravely, and she knew at that moment that it was true— those words he'd whispered to her in the darkness, over the past weeks of nights. This man loved her.

“Not for clothes or shoes,” she said. “I was thinking we could maybe go to the shelter and … pick out a dog?”

Decker nodded, and there was more than heat in his eyes then. “I would love to get a dog with you,” he whispered, and he kissed her again.

“I'm the last one out,” Sam announced, “and I'm locking the door behind me.” It closed with a
clunk,
and yes, they were finally alone.

“Just for the record,” Tracy said. “As an FYI? The you-climbing-into-my-bedroom-window thing
really
worked for me.”

Decker laughed. “Honey, just say the word and—”

“Game on?” Tracy asked.

“Game,” Decker said as he kissed her again, as he pulled her into the kitchen and began to lower all the blinds, “totally on.”