Tough Justice Series Box Set: Parts 1-8. Carla Cassidy

her family snapped on. What was suddenly a somewhat light conversation became heavy.

      “He told me he was proud once,” she hedged, taking a long pull of her drink. Nick didn’t respond. He was waiting on her. “We didn’t have the best relationship before I joined, so we didn’t really talk about work.” She shrugged. “What about you? Is your hotshot pops proud of your FBI status?”

      Nick’s entire expression seemed to change as he wrangled a grin into place. It was a truly remarkable one at that. Even though it was a half-cocked smile, it held all the trappings of open anger.

      “You’d have to ask him that,” was all he said.

      His words sent a chill across her skin. One that had nothing to do with her proximity to the handsome man next to her.

      Lara didn’t pry. She recognized a complicated past when she saw one. So, instead, she focused on peeling back the label on her bottle and pondered the man beside her.

      Nick Delano had a sharp sense of humor, but he was also tough and serious when needed. He was FBI and had, for whatever reason, found his way to their task force. Believing the man had anything but a complicated past would have been naive.

      “My dad was a tough man and even tougher father,” Nick said after the silence had stretched too long. His voice was low, with an edge to it that warned of a deep wound. Yet another thing Lara could relate to. “You stepped out of line, and he wouldn’t hesitate to put you right back on it. I never knew if that was just the man he was raised to be or if that’s what the job did to him.” He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. He is what he is.”

      “I’m gathering it wasn’t the most fun to grow up with him.”

      “Some admired his ambition, especially when he started out, and in a way I guess you could have called it impressive. He dealt with high-profile cases—like I said, senators even—and he won them even when his client was as guilty as they came. But those people who revered him—sang his praises after seeing him work a courtroom—didn’t have to live with him. He ruthlessly pursed his public image of perfection, strived for absolute control, and ran his home with an iron rod.” Nick was starting to get heated. That much was obvious. He was traveling down a slippery slope that, Lara guessed, didn’t end well. Maybe he realized that. His eyes took in his bottle with new interest and he gave a half-shrug. “I’m not one to sit here and complain about my daddy issues, but suffice it to say, my father believed in his career more than he ever believed in his family. It’s a miracle any of us survived.”

      Nick finished his drink and ordered another. Lara quickly caught up and followed suit. They waited in silence for the bartender to replace the beer. Then Nick started up again. It made Lara grateful he seemed to trust her enough to open up. Could she do the same?

      “It wasn’t all bad. My mom was tough, too, but, you know, in a different way. A better way, I always thought.” A wisp of a smile trailed his lips, a nice break from the darkness. “She tried to make my brother and me as happy and healthy as she could. Tried to keep us close...” Even though he wasn’t looking directly at her, Lara saw his gaze deepen in a way that suggested he wasn’t still in the bar. “It didn’t work, but damn if that woman didn’t try. She still tries, even when battling cancer in a damn hospice.” His grip tightened on the bottle so quickly Lara thought the glass might break. She fought the urge to touch him—to give him comfort she so rarely obtained herself—yet her hand stayed still. Instead she tracked the trail of cold left behind as she took another drink of beer. Finally he loosened his grip, and with it the moment passed. He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened. “And that’s my origin story. Can you do one better?”

      Lara let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Now he was joking. The dark mood had lifted. Lara didn’t want it to return. She smiled and hoped it looked convincing.

      “I don’t think that’s a game I want to win, Agent Delano.”

      “Hey, with our jobs we have to do all we can to find the humor in the everyday. Am I right?” His smile had come back but seemed to still be fractured somehow. A broken smile was better than no smile, right? “So, how dysfunctional is Lara Grant’s family?”

      For a moment everything slowed. Lara shifted in her seat. Indecision clouded her thoughts. Nick had opened up to her, without provocation. He had been right before. She was his partner, and with that title came a certain amount of trust. She could follow his lead, rip the Band-Aid off...

      But Lara Grant had trusted the wrong people before. So she gave him partial truths and hoped they’d be enough.

      “I was ten when my mother died. My father passed away from Alzheimer’s at the end of my lockdown. Beyond that...” She paused. “Well, let’s just say any family reunions would be severely lacking in attendance.” Nick held his bottle up to hers. Lara touched it. Another cheer between them. “But, hey, silver lining?” Lara sobered. The image of the man with dark eyes filled her mind. “At least that means Moretti can’t go after my family. They’re gone.”

      Nick didn’t have the hesitation that Lara had harbored before. He stretched his hand out and, touching her chin, tilted her gaze up from her bottle to his eyes. They were also dark. The contact surprised her, but she didn’t pull away.

      “We’ll stop him,” he said, voice charged. “He’ll pay for what he’s done, and then all that will be left is a name no one will remember.”

      Every part of Lara began to vibrate. The walls she’d built around her emotions began to shake. When she spoke, it was terrifyingly honest.

      “I’ll remember,” she whispered.

      Nick’s fierce expression sharpened. “Then we’ll have to make you forget.”

      And then his lips were on hers.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      His kiss was hard. It pushed against Lara’s lips with a need so poignant that she was stunned into immobility for a moment. Or maybe she wasn’t as still as she’d thought. She felt her body reach out to him just as she returned the kiss. She wanted Nick Delano, and she wanted him badly.

      And that was a problem.

      Lara froze.

      Nick broke the kiss.

      She glanced around them to see if anyone had noticed the two FBI agents locking lips, but no one seemed to care. They were in their own little worlds with their own little worries, not caring about the two at the corner of the bar. The cold of the bottle still in Lara’s hand seeped into her skin and acted as a blaring reminder of who she was and what she couldn’t do. The proverbial bucket of cold water to the face, in miniature.

      “I—I have to go,” she stammered out, pulling out some money for the drinks. Heat crawled across her body. Her heartbeat raced, and it was all she could do to control her breathing. Nick also seemed to be going through a myriad of feelings. The kiss, she believed, had probably happened on impulse. Either way, Lara hopped off the stool, reached for her keys on the counter and averted her eyes.

      “Lara, I’m sorry,” Nick tried, voice lower than normal. “Stay.”

      “I have to go,” she said, more resolutely.

      She was out of The Pit in a flash, the door swinging closed behind her. Nick didn’t follow. It gave her the break she needed. She took a few steps away from the entrance and put her back against the wall. No one seemed to pay her any mind as she closed her eyes.

      I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t do this again.

      Whatever was between Nick and her, whatever attraction threaded them together, she was going to have to ignore it. They had to keep things professional. They had to...

      If only for her sanity.

      She took another moment, trying to calm her excited body, before nodding