She glared at him, then rolled her eyes. “Damn it. You’re really good at that.”

He pulled her into his chest, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the busy bullpen around them. “Yeah? Just wait till I ask my big question.”

“Brick, I swear to God, if you turn it into something like ‘Remington Honeysuckle Ford, will you get tacos with me tonight?’ I will be ordering an extra large body bag and digging a real big hole in the Grand Hotel’s rose garden.”

He ran a hand gently over her face. A sweet, soft, soothing touch. “Are you telling me you’d turn me down for tacos?”

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “Of course not. I’m not an idiot. I’d eat the tacos and then bury your body.”

“You’re a hell of a woman, Remi.”

“Yeah. Yeah. And you’re my big brawny man mountain who had better make Warren Vorhees regret ever laying a hand on a woman.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic. But I still like the sound of it.”

Her flirtatious retort was cut off by the station door flying open. In strolled two scowling suits. The first, a woman, long and lean in a boxy polyester suit the color of horse shit. The second was a baby-faced man who looked like he’d practiced his scowl in the mirror and wouldn’t be able to grow facial hair if he tried.

“Who are they?” Remi asked.

“Feds,” Brick growled.

According to every cop TV show she had ever watched, a territorial pissing match was about to occur. One that had probably never happened in the history of Mackinac Island.

“Oh, boy,” she said.

Brick gripped her arm and steered her toward the side door. “You’re going home.”

“But I want to watch my mom yell at these guys.” Remi pouted.

“I’ll re-enact it for you later,” he promised.

She heaved a sigh. “Fine. But I want you to do the facial expressions and the accents,” she insisted.

“God, I love you.” Heedless of the audience, he grabbed her by the chin and kissed the hell out of her.

A few of the other officers who weren’t staring down the suits whistled their approval.

“Don’t forget to come home this time,” she said when he’d pulled away and her head stopped spinning.

“I can’t go another night without you.”

She started for the door, but Brick stopped her. “Turk? You mind walking Remi home?”

“I can get myself home,” she scoffed.

Carlos jumped up from his desk. “Sure thing,” he said.

“What did we just talk about not even five minutes ago?” Brick demanded gruffly.

“I don’t really recall. I was too busy thinking about you naked.”

“You’re evil.”

“Have fun with that hard-on, big guy,” she said, tapping him in the balls and breezing out the door with Carlos Turk on her heels.

50

Special Agent Jana Brice was an ambitious pain in the ass. Her partner, Junior Agent Harold White, was just plain annoying. Fishing for a pissing contest and flashing his Department of Justice badge all over the fucking place. Brick disliked them both on sight.