Once the elevator hit the lobby, we had to move to the back of the car, and as more and more people crammed in, I found myself wedged into the corner with Ian in front of me, his broad, muscular back pressed to my chest as he stood there solid and strong where I knew he wanted to be, between me and everyone else. I would have grabbed him and hugged him if we’d been alone, would have let my head fall between his shoulder blades, would have simply kissed the back of his neck if we weren’t at work. And it hit me that was true for any two people who worked together in a professional setting, and there was something sweet and secret about our situation. As the elevator climbed floor after floor and became less and less crowded, I couldn’t help but give Ian’s hand a quick squeeze before he stepped away from me.
At our floor, we stepped out, and I immediately saw Kage was in the middle of the office—at Ian’s desk, actually, perched on the edge of it, addressing the room. Five men stood off to the side, and I thought at first glance I didn’t know any of them until I looked closer and saw that I did.
When I first met Josiah Redeker in the terminal of the Vegas airport, I thought he looked like a guy who ran a bar or belonged in a motorcycle gang. I’d been binge-watching Sons of Anarchy while Ian was deployed, so that was probably why that thought tumbled into my head. But as I got to know him over the course of a couple of days, I realized that under the carelessly kept surface was a man with laser focus and the ability to adapt quickly to any given situation.
He, like Ian, could go from complete stillness to an explosion of motion in seconds. There was also the whiff of loner that came off him, a sort of wandering cowboy quality complete with a gleam of danger in his dark eyes that was terribly appealing. There was no denying his masculine beauty, and I completely understood why his partner had it so bad. The fact that Bodhi Callahan was not standing beside him concerned me. If Redeker was in Chicago alone, the fallout must have been bad when Bodhi confessed his feelings. The last I knew, I thought that was the plan, but perhaps that was wrong as well. I hadn’t followed up, so maybe they had just gone their separate ways. And maybe not. Maybe I was reading way too much into him being here alone, and nothing had occurred at all. I was going to find out, though, just as soon as possible.
When Ian and I stepped into the bullpen, all five men turned to look at us, and when Redeker saw me, his face broke into the wide smile with the deep lines—not dimples, as they creased the length of his cheeks—I remembered well from my short time spent with him. I raised my hand, and he gave me a nod back.
“Who’s that?” Ian asked close to my ear.
“Josiah Redeker, out of the Vegas office,” I replied softly, not wanting to disturb Kage, who was saying something about changes. “I worked with him and his partner, Bodhi Callahan, when I transported Josue.”
Ian grunted, and we both looked at Kage, who had stopped speaking.
We were just inside the circle of desks on the outer edge, but I had no desire to move closer, especially with Kage being quiet as he scanned the room. Normally that meant he was deciding something as he stood there, and like in school when you didn’t know the answer, not making eye contact never helped. But being right in front of him was not the best idea either.
When the elevator dinged, Eli came into the room, followed closely by Maureen Prescott. She and Eli had not come together; that was clear when Eli stopped walking, noticing her behind him. Prescott said something to him quickly and touched his arm briefly as she scooted around him to join Kage at Ian’s desk. At the same time, Elyes stood up from her desk right outside Kage’s office and joined him and Prescott. They were all quiet for a moment, and only then did I see Prescott holding what looked like a large organizer with one of those Velcro closures, and Elyes had two smaller ones, as well as a handful of lanyards.
“Okay,” Kage said. He took a breath before rising to his towering height and crossing his arms, which always made them look like tree trunks. “In the last twelve hours, there have been some big changes here at the office, and because of those, this department will be impacted.”
Everyone was silent; nobody moved. Nobody even took a sip of morning coffee, which was amazing since we were a huge caffeine-fueled group.