As the driver took us through the heavy holiday traffic, JC and I chitchatted about small things—our favorite movies, the last books we’d read, the newest project that JC had invested in. The last one earned further conversation. I’d been surprised to learn that he had been able to continue working while he’d been hidden away.
“I used secure Internet websites that filtered through other storefronts. None of the investments could be traced back to my name or my location.”
“Still,” I chided. “Wasn’t it risky?”
He stroked his thumb up and down mine, sending sparks up my limbs. “Life isn’t any fun if there’s not any risk.”
I wanted to be impressed and not aroused, but instead I was bothered and very much aroused. “I appreciate your take-the-world-by-its-balls approach, but there are some risks that aren’t worth taking. No matter what the payoff.”
The degree to which it upset me made me feel vulnerable. I stared out the window, away from him, and waited for him to point out that I was uptight and high-strung, like he had so many times in the past.
He didn’t. “You’re right.”
I turned back toward him, surprised.
“There are some risks not worth taking. And maybe I shouldn’t have taken this one. But I was extraordinarily careful.”
“Well, I don’t like it.” I wasn’t willing to let go of my concern.
He grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “I like that you don’t like it.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled my hand from his. But he retrieved it, and I didn’t protest because I understood just what he meant, and I didn’t really want to not touch him anyway.
When the car started to make its way across Brooklyn Bridge, my curiosity was piqued. “Where are you taking me anyway?”
“Brooklyn Bridge Park. So we can watch the fireworks.”
It was a noble gesture, but I was skeptical about his planning. “It’s almost seven. There’s no way we’ll be able to find a space there at this time of night. It’s the number one viewing spot for the Macy’s show. Crowds start gathering there at noon.”
“More like nine,” he corrected. “Stop worrying. I’ve got us covered.”
The driver dropped us off at Empire Fulton Ferry. Carrying the cooler in one arm, JC led me down to the river, past Jane’s Carousel to the boardwalk beyond. As I’d suspected, the area was already quite crowded, but he weaved me through the clusters of people lounging on blankets and deck chairs as though he knew exactly where he was going.
We ended at a man sprawled out on a red-checkered blanket, two pillows piled underneath him. He was mid-forties, bald, but sharp looking. In good shape. He stood when he saw us approach. “Damn. Now I have to go sit with the wife,” he said as he extended a hand to JC.
JC shook it but turned to me as he did. “Gwen, this is Dom. He’s one of the assholes who put me in the undercover program. I told him he owed me.”
“Yeah, so I’ve been parked here since about nine-thirty. Like my tan?” He took my hand next. “Pleasure to meet you, Gwen. I was sure he made you up. And you’re actually as pretty as he said.”
Warmth shot through my chest. “He said things about me?” I eyed JC. “Maybe you can stick around a little longer, Dom, and chat.”
“Nah, nah. Dom has his wife to get to. And you can stop holding her hand now too.”
Dom laughed, pulling me into a side hug instead of letting me go. “He’s fun to mess with, isn’t he?” When JC pinned him with a glare, Dom released me. “All right, all right.” He clapped a hand around JC’s shoulder. “Just pack everything up, and I’ll come back by to grab all this stuff on my way out. Harris and Richie are both here with eyes on you, but I told them to hang back.”
JC darted his eyes toward me then back to Dom. “Thanks. Now get lost.”
Dom wandered off to find his family, and I turned to JC, my arms crossed over my chest suspiciously. “Who are Harris and Richie?”
“Uh, they’re guys on Dom’s crew. I guess they’re here too.” He knelt to begin setting out our picnic.
“Huh.” It had been a weird way to phrase it if that was all Dom had been getting at. “It sounded like he was saying something else. Do you have bodyguards? Are we being watched?” I scoured the crowd around us, looking for anyone who seemed out of place.
“Uh, no.” He pulled a bottle from the cooler. “Want something to drink?”
“Are you changing the subject?”
He finished assembling a plastic wine glass before raising his eyes to mine. “I am changing the subject. I’ve spent a year with those dicks, and tonight I’d like to forget about them and focus on you. Is that all right?”