“So, you really are a full-time musician.”
Nodding, she sipped the last of her juice. “Many in the orchestra work other jobs but it’s a competitive business. Keeping my musical skills up is the way to stay where I am, make enough money to live on, and I get to do what I love all the time.”
“I admire your skills but confess I also envy your natural talent, something I didn’t have.”
Her head tilted slightly to the side again, her chin jutting out in a way that he now recognized as a sign that she was considering his words carefully. He wasn’t surprised when she asked, “That sounds like you played at one time.”
“You can imagine with my mom loving music the way she did that she insisted I learn an instrument. I wanted to play the drums.” His forearms were resting on the table, and he turned his palms up as he shrugged his shoulders. “But she insisted on the violin.”
“The violin?” she asked, incredulity dripping from the two words.
“I was in the middle school orchestra, but I’m afraid I just didn’t have the aptitude. My fingers simply did not want to move the way they should. Then, by eighth grade, a growth spurt caused the delicate instrument to feel too tiny for my large hands. My mom wanted to push the cello on me, but I’d discovered two other things that pulled my attention—sports and girls. By the time I hit high school, I was over six feet tall, a heavy hitter baseball player, and… um…”
“Don’t stop your story now! I have a feeling this is going to be where the girls come in.”
His face heated as he admitted, “I discovered a cute cheerleader was way more impressed with me in my baseball uniform than she’d ever been when I was wearing my dark suit for the orchestra.”
Her smile widened as her eyes drifted over his torso. “While I’ve never seen you in a baseball uniform, I can only say that you cut quite an impressive figure in your dark suit.”
As he paid the server, she stifled a yawn. “I hate for our date to end but can tell you’re exhausted.”
“I am,” she admitted. “I’m afraid it’s been a long day, but I love how it ended.”
He escorted her back to his SUV, holding her hand as he assisted her into the passenger seat. The drive back to the concert hall was much too short, and before he was ready for the evening to end, he parked next to the vehicle she indicated was hers. Shutting down the engine, he made no move to exit, instead turning to face her. “I had a really nice time, Christina.”
She unbuckled and twisted to face him, a smile on her face. “I did too, Clay.”
“Clay? I’ve made it to first name status.” He rested his arm on the back of her seat and leaned forward slightly. “Do I dare hope that we might have a third date?”
“I’d like that. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be on a Friday night after a concert.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her brow scrunched slightly, and she sighed. “Although, this week is going to be a bit crazy. A group that I play with is laying down tracks for a demo. I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have.”
“That’s impressive,” he said, leaning even closer. He lifted his hand and slid his fingers over the soft skin of her neck, his thumb sweeping the apple of her cheek. Hesitating, he wanted to give control over to her. As she leaned her face into his palm, he closed the distance, stopping a whisper away.
Her eyes remained open, pinned on his until dropping to his mouth. She shifted in her seat, drawing nearer, her lips molding to his. Just as he thought, she tasted as sweet as she looked. Her mouth was soft and warm, and with the slightest bit of pressure, she angled her head so that their noses wouldn’t bump as their mouths devoured each other. His tongue swept inside, tangling with hers, and he swallowed her groan. For a moment, he reveled in making out with her before pulling back, not wanting her to think his romance skills ended with the cheerleader in high school.
He glanced down at her kiss-swollen lips now curved into a smile, knowing a smile was plastered on his face as well. Glancing at her purse resting beside her, he said, “Give me your phone.”
Without hesitation, she reached inside her bag, pulled out her phone, unlocked it and handed it to him. He tapped the keys, then handed it back. “I just put my name and number in your contacts. I won’t ask for yours, but if you want, send me a message or give me a call and then I’ll have your number on my phone.” He kissed her lightly once again, then added, “I really hope you do. I’d love a third date."
He stepped out of his SUV and jogged around the front, offering his hand to assist her down. Making sure she had her purse, keys, phone, and of course, her violin, he waited until she was safely inside her vehicle. Waving as she drove away, he climbed back inside his SUV and started the engine. The screen indicated a message had been sent to his phone. Glancing at it, he grinned.
Can’t wait for a 3rd date. Now you have my number.
Chuckling, he began the two-hour drive home, listening to violin concertos as he smiled at the thought of seeing her again.
5
“My liaison at the Bureau says that our surveillance on Congressman Bennett’s headquarters has given them no evidence. They’re still convinced that Jerry Kincaid is quite possibly involved in illegal drugs as part of the pipeline that goes from Mexico up the East Coast through Maine and then jumps to Canada,” Levi reported at the LSI meeting.
“Jumps?” Clay asked.
“The cartels use their connections with motorcycle gangs to transport over land and air. They may also be taking small boats from the coast of Maine and transporting them short distances to Canada.”
“What about the Coast Guard?” Rank asked.
“So far, if the drug runners are using very small boats, they’ve managed to slip past the Coast Guard monitoring.”
“I’ve been keeping track, but for the past month, Jerry has only spent two nights at his condo,” Josh reported. “Travel takes up some of that, but has the FBI looked to see where the man is laying his head at night?”
“Jerry still owns his condo but now lives on the congressman’s estate, but not at the main house,” Levi said.
Josh tapped on his computer, bringing up pictures of the congressman’s home and the security system LSI had installed.
“I remember doing this work last year,” Clay said. “It was specialized security cameras on the main house outside doors and windows. That was all.”
Mace said, “Then we need to get more eyes on where Jerry spends his time. That’s what makes you perfect for this. You’ve been on the estate.”
Clay and the others glanced up to the screen and the image Josh had produced. He nodded. “There were a number of buildings on the congressman’s estate. He inherited it from his father, and besides the main house where the family lives, there are several smaller buildings where live-in servants stay, and near the coast is a house that was often used for family and friends when the congressman’s father entertained friends from D.C. Congressman Bennett had newer guesthouses built closer to the pool. Jerry lives in the guesthouse right by the water.”
“What’s that? A boathouse connected to the guesthouse?” Tate asked, leaning forward to stare at the image.