His eyes crinkled with what she suspected was amusement. “Not very ATF of you.”

“Maybe Parker didn’t read enough of my e-mails. Right before I left, ATF unceremoniously booted my ass to the curb.”

Onscreen, Parker threw his hands up. “Shit, I didn’t read everything. I was on a search-term mission. Not to find out about the details of Sugar’s life.”

But you certainly found enough, didn’t you, Parker?

Jared’s jaw ticked. “You’re telling me they fired you? Because you helped Titan?”

“More or less.”

“Trust me, you’ll have your job back.” He crossed his thick arms over his black-cotton-clad chest. The man couldn’t have looked any more serious, and it made her insides tingle. “Hell, Sugar, might as well count on a raise. If not, ATF’s got another thing coming to them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not looking for a fix-it. Thanks, anyway.”

“What the fuck are you going to do? Send out resumes?” If he’d seemed pissed before, he’d ratcheted up to irate. “Skill set—can fieldstrip a rifle, build an AR, and has a decent throat punch.”

“I don’t know, J-dawg. My throat punches are more than decent. I’d call them effective, given what I was after.” And it had worked. She lashed out at him, he pinned her, and then they jumped on each other in her hotel room. Absolutely effective.

“Everyone out,” he snarled, and she knew to sit still.

The screen went black. The knowing looks on the guys and the nosy look on Nicola meant this was just him and her. Their come-to-Jesus discussion was coming way earlier than she’d expected. Fine. Bring it on, big boy.

Nicola flashed a wink before she shut the door.

Alone with Jared Westin. Again. She shivered, and the temp had zilch to do with it. Her only excuse for that was fine-tuned feminine awareness. She could’ve done a girly-parts roll call just then, because they’d all shown up for duty, jumping to attention.

“Sugar.”

This again? “Jared.” She tried for a casual deep breath, but her lungs laughed at the idea. Not happening. She was dive-bombing into this convo oxygen deprived.

Jared ran a hand over his cheek, making a rough noise. He’d trimmed back his scruff since she’d touched him last, leaving just enough prickle. Her fingertips itched to test its abrasion.

“You can’t talk about murdering someone,” he said.

“I can do whatever I want. It’s retribution.” Sugar pouted her lips and loved how his gaze zeroed in on them.

“There are rules of engagement.” He surveyed her, perhaps choosing his words for maximum impact. “Kip Pearson was in the wrong, and you’re better than him.”

Sugar curled her lip. “You don’t know that.”

“The hell I don’t, baby cakes.”

He sat down on the couch, dipping her cushion toward him. Jared smelled like soap, spice, and everything so deliciously nice. “That’s not why you kicked everyone out of here.”

“No shit. You have two minutes to explain yourself. Avoiding and Afghanistan? That’s bullshit. The attitude problem in your hotel room? Start talking.”