Despite It All by Reese Knightley

 

Greene

Sitting in Forest’s office, he was still trying to figure out what the hell Forest had meant.

I’ll give you another taste later.

Why did those softly spoken words make him think of something besides a punch to the solar plexus? And when he thought of Forest, he didn’t think of the stubbornness or the tough façade he tried to put on, but rather the way his eyes held his and that goddamned vanilla scent.

Fuck, he needed to get laid, was all. He yanked at the leg of his jeans.

Normally, getting laid wasn’t a problem, but it’d been a while. His usual guy was taking a break from casual hookups, whatever the fuck that meant. Some shit about seeking commitment and finding oneself.

No fucking thank you.

Give him a casual hookup any day.

He glanced around at the sparse office. On the wall hung impressive credentials, a safe, and painting. The painting was kind of depressing, though. It was raining outside, why would you want that crap inside? Give him the sun any day. If he could, he’d live on the beach. He glanced at the silent man behind the desk, who’d ignored him for over an hour now. That was okay, he’d planted his ass in a chair off to the side of the big wide desk and double checked his email.

After the quick stop at the guy’s place, Forest had changed everything but those bright red shoes. He thought that maybe they were a fuck you to him. He actually liked the shoes. They gave Forest a more approachable look, not that the guy was approachable to him. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead hours ago.

“Taylor?”

A rapid knock on his door brought Forest’s head up, and a dark-haired man wearing a black suit, blue tie, and shiny shoes stood in the doorway.

He tucked away his phone real slow like and gave the guy a dead stare, one of those flat ones that said he’d rather beat assholes fucking down than look at them. He knew exactly what his look conveyed. The guys had razzed him enough.

“Agent Hardier, what can I do for you?” Forest laid his pen on the desk and sat back in his chair.

“I don’t appreciate you leaving us stranded yesterday.”

Belligerence filled the agent’s voice and disrespect coated his words as the guy looked from his face down to the brace on Forest’s left hand with disgust.

Forest took it all in stride, as if the agent put up with this shit every day. These people had to fucking know he’d been in a horrific car accident, right? In his opinion, the fucker was making a mistake if he thought Forest was weak. He shifted forward, on the verge of standing up and shutting the door in the asshole’s face, just for shits and giggles.

Forest beat him to it and strode around his desk, bracing a sexy hip against the corner of the rich oak wood.

He found himself riveted on Forest, his complete attention focused. Hell, the fucker in the doorway could have pulled a gun and he wouldn’t have noticed. Well, he might have, but holy fuck.

All casual and confident, Forest locked those blue eyes like laser beams on Hardier. Forest slowly slid his hands into the pockets of his expensive dress slacks and leveled a flat look at the guy.

“It’s Supervisory Special Agent Taylor to you, and you can wait outside while I make a call.”

He wanted to laugh so fucking badly, but he kept his expression hard and flat.

Hardier swallowed and his eyes widened before they fell to Forest’s red sneakers. The guy didn’t have the balls to say shit though, he just flicked him a look, backed out of the room, and walked away.

Forest sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“That was impressive.”

“You think?” Amused blue eyes caught his.

“Hell yes, you can fight my battles anytime.”

Forest snorted. “I doubt you need your battles fought.”

“I don’t, but still.”

Forest returned his smile and he felt like he’d won the lottery until Forest apparently remembered why he was there and that he hadn’t wanted him there and scowled.

He laughed. “That was nice while it lasted.”

“Can’t you disappear?” Forest waved to the open doorway.

“No.” He settled back in his chair and pulled out his phone.

“Don’t you want to go smoke?”

Fuck yeah, he did, but he wasn’t leaving Forest alone to slip away.

“I thought I’d rack up the hours toward my week.”

Forest tried to stay angry, but he saw the humor return. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“Bummer.” He tipped his own lips up.

With an eye roll that was cuter than hell, Forest huffed, shut his office door, and returned to his desk. Cool, confident, sexy as fuck, and authoritative even in those bright shoes.

He wondered what Forest would think of him if he knew his secret. Not that he’d ever tell the guy. He could only imagine how that conversation would go.

The phone speaker button clicked and a dial tone filled the room. A phone rang on the other end before a guy’s voice answered.

“Shawl.”

“It’s Forest.”

The only Shawl he knew from what he’d read regarding this whole debacle was FBI Agent Robert Shawl, Summer’s FBI contact.

“Fuck.” The older man’s sigh came loud and long through the speaker.

“What happened?” Forest sat back and gazed up from the phone.

Their gazes locked. He was trying to get a read on how Forest felt about Shawl, but the guy played his cards too close to his chest, his expression stayed calm.

“When Summer missed her last call, I went to her apartment just after midnight. I called Parish right then. I didn’t even let a day go by.”

“Parish said he didn’t get a call.”

He squinted at Forest. Well, wasn’t that interesting? Raising his eyebrows, he gave Forest one of his questioning looks. Forest shook his head.

“I talked to somebody,” the older man insisted.

“Who?”

“I thought it was Parish’s assistant.”

“His assistant is female.” Forest’s lips pressed into a flat line.

“I know! But I was so concerned that when a guy answered, I left the message. You know me. I called Parish right after she missed her call. I’m not lying.”

That was probably true. He didn’t know the guy and couldn’t tell by his tone if he was lying or not, but most people who were innocent claimed they were and loudly. Yet despite all that, he heard guilt in the older man’s voice.

A horn honking came through over the phone.

“Where are you?” A tiny frown etched Forest’s attractive face.

“I’ve been driving around, cruising by every place she hangs out at. I’m so fucking worried.”

“It’s going to be all right. I’ll find her.”

He made sure to scowl at Forest. Maybe it would pressure the guy to quit saying that shit. Like he was a one-man band.

“I’m here, tell me what you need.”

“I’m going to send you an email address. Send any and all of the surveillance you’ve gathered over the last two days and sit tight.”

“Forest? Can you keep me in the loop?”

“I’ll try.”

When Robert ended the call, Forest replaced the receiver with a sigh.

“Can you?”

“Can I what?” Blue eyes snapped to his.

“Keep him in the loop.”

“It depends. I can’t make any promises.”

“I heard the guilt in his voice.”

“Psychic, are you?”

He smiled. “I’m trained for that.”

“Well, news flash, Robert’s not involved in Summer’s disappearance.”

“Whatever you say.”

He could almost see it on the tip of Forest’s tongue that the guy wanted to let him have it, and he had to quickly glance down at his phone in order to hide his shit eating grin. He so wanted to egg this new Mr. Calm into losing his composure.

Forest got up and walked out of his sparse office so abruptly, it left him scrambling to catch up. The man skirted around a set of chairs in the aisle and made a sharp right, ending up at the technical analysis desk of a Jerry Duncan, so the sign said.

“Forest! I pulled the phone files like you wanted.” The dark, curly-haired techie pushed a pair of black rimmed glasses up his nose and gave him a wide-eyed look.

“Who’s muscles?”

“A …friend.” Forest tossed him an annoyed glance like it was his fault the guy was checking him out.

“Hi, friend,” the guy said.

“Jerry, focus. Did you get that information?”

“Yeah. Here.” Jerry handed the report to Forest but stared at him. He was careful to look menacing enough to keep the guy from asking him any questions. The last thing he wanted was to get into a conversation with a chatty analyst.

Forest took the report and placed it on top of his briefcase.

“Forest!” a woman’s voice called out.

“Yeah?” Forest pivoted to the left and headed toward another desk. This sign said Special Agent Renee Fossil. The thirty-something year old skinny brunette only had eyes for Forest and gave him a wide smile.

He stood in the background and crossed his arms against his chest. His gun was bulging but he didn’t give a shit when she suddenly noticed him.

“I pulled that info on those contacts you wanted.” She hastily jerked her eyes from him.

“Thanks, Renee.”

“What do you want them for?”

“Just doing some routine data checks.”

“I can help,” she said.

“No, that’s okay. You have enough to do.”

She looked disappointed, or possibly pissed, he couldn’t figure out which one. Maybe it was because Forest wasn’t giving her the time of day. Maybe it was because of him. She was barking up the wrong tree if she wanted a date with Forest.

He rubbed at the burn starting in his sternum. When she tossed him another look, he bared his teeth and it wasn’t to offer a fucking smile.

Forest bent so she could place the report on top of his briefcase and spun around on him too quickly to hide his teeth. Oops. His face went slack.

The tiny edges around Forest’s eyes crinkled and a line cut a groove between his attractive eyes.

“Come on.” Forest spoke the words through his teeth in that cute way that made him grin again. Mr. Calm was effectively gone, thank God. His grin set the temper off in Forest’s eyes and he ended up following several feet behind when the man took off like a rocket down a wide, busy hallway and disappeared through a doorway.

At the open door, he stopped for two seconds to get a bead on Forest in the fully occupied room before he stalked through the crowd to a chair in the back.

The room reeked of citrus aftershave, flowery perfume, and fresh coffee. Forest wound his way through the rows of chairs toward the front of the room where he dropped his briefcase loudly on the table. The loud crack drew several heads around.

“All right, take your seats,” Forest hollered over the noise and the room quieted down.

“Hey, Forest?”

His eyes cut to the smart-ass tone of voice. He didn’t have long to wonder.

“Yes, Travis?” Forest said.

“Nice shoes.” Travis gave Forest a wide grin. “I haven’t seen that cherry color before.”

The crowd broke out with laughter, but then so did Forest. That was when he realized Forest wore the shoes for a reason and it was more than a fuck you to him or the world. He thought maybe it was Forest’s way of making people laugh or not take life so seriously. God knows the man had enough tragedy in his life.

“I like the neon green ones better!” an agent hooted from the back when the noise partially died down.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Forest’s laughter died and a smirk crossed his face before he turned the pointer to the big screen at the front of the room. “You’re lucky I’m only filling in for Rogers.”

“Thank god, you are!”

“Yeah, can’t stand that bastard.”

He tried to find the voices, but wasn’t sure where they came from before he turned back to Forest.

The man’s eyes were hard and he sure as hell wasn’t laughing now.

“Enough of that. He’s your boss and deserves respect. If you have a complaint, then you need to report it and stop with the shitty ass comments.”

Okay, there was a tone he wasn’t familiar with. One that made a person feel about two inches high and shitty about life. He thought he might prefer Mr. Calm instead.

The room grew quiet, as it should. Every man, even this Rogers character, had a right to defend himself.

“Am I clear?” Forest snapped, and a quick chorus of yeses went through the room. After a moment, Forest continued. “I’m sure you’ve all heard by now that Agent Summer Peterson missed her monthly call to Agent Shawl.”

“Are we helping in the search?” a young agent asked from the front of the room. Several heads nodded and a murmur swept around the crowd.

He ran his eyes over the attentive faces, wondering which one, if any, was the mole. He knew that one of them could very well be leaking information about ongoing terrorist investigations.

They couldn’t risk inadvertently involving the person in the search for Summer. There would be too many people privy to information that needed to stay classified. That was why he and his unit were there, to keep these people out of the search.

Forest, thankfully, stuck to the plan. “Not yet, ASAC Parish is getting a team together for that. So, keep your phones handy in case he calls you.”

“Are you going to be looking for her?” someone asked.

“No.” Forest turned toward a chart on the screen.

The staff might have believed Forest, but he sure the hell didn’t.