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Who was he kidding? He’d treated her like crap, pure and simple. There had been valid reasons, including keeping her safety a top priority. He couldn’t tell her about the clandestine op he was immediately thrown into, so his instinct to make a definite if messy break had been the right one.

But then that first op turned into special agent basic training in Quantico, Virginia, and that led to more undercover work centered out of Los Angeles. By the time he had enough leave to come home for a week, too much time had passed. He’d had to let it all go. But had he, really?

You can’t change any of it. His mind raced in time with his pounding heart and he searched for something to ground himself, to keep his mind here, now.

The mug of coffee was his reprieve and he sipped, as though processing her request.

“You’re right, of course. I have to admit, it was a bit of a shock to see you as Monique.” He’d never pictured her as a brunette, and over the last five years had fantasized about her long red—whoa. This wasn’t the time to go down memory lane.

“Great way to have a cover that you won’t misstep with, by the way. With your name. I called you ‘Moni,’ because it helps me, as Hawk, not slip and say ‘Veronica.’”

“You said it like you did the one time after I told you that you could call me ‘Roni’.” You were the first and last person I’d ever even thought about calling me that.” She let out a bitter laugh. “You’re right, we’ve both come a long way.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that, Veronica. I’m sorry. I was genuinely surprised to see you.”

“I know.”

Free of the layers of makeup, her skin glowed, but he noted the shadows under her eyes, the fine lines at their corners. This kind of job took its toll. He knew how it could make a shell of one’s former self, how the only way to keep moving forward was to let go of whatever prevented you from totally immersing into the next role. Except some emotions, some memories, some people were impossible to jettison. Crap. Would he be dealing with the unease under his rib cage for the entirety of this op?

“Have you spoken to your brother?” Her query yanked him from his thoughts.

“Which one?”

“Callum.” She didn’t have to say “the sheriff.”

“Yeah. We’re on the same task force, if that’s what you’re asking. I only came aboard two days ago, when the op I’ve been working finally matched up with yours.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ve been Hawk for quite a while now.” He explained how he’d come into the role, established himself in North Dakota, and now was poised to make a play to bring Rex out of hiding, and eventually, Slim. “Your task force’s work to infiltrate Rex’s network has been so successful that it’s shortened the time the FBI expected it to take. We thought it would take a year to ferret out Rex, and then, if that didn’t spook Slim, another five to six months to nail Slim.”

“To destroy the drug ring.” She nodded. “Yeah, we’re on the same team, in terms of goals.”

“You’re incredible out there, Veronica.”

A tiny smile played at the corner of her lips. Without the candy-apple-red lipstick, they appeared fuller. “I appreciate that.” As she spoke she looked down, into her mug, and another strand of her hair fell across her face. She wrapped it behind her ear, and only then did he realize how messy her long locks were. Veronica must have noticed his glance and offered a half grin.

“I have to keep it all pinned up under that blasted wig, so when I have the chance to take it off I’m more concerned about letting my scalp breathe than brushing my hair.” She shrugged. “And last night—” she looked at a sad wall clock “—this morning, rather, it’s all been a bit hectic.” Another short laugh. At least it wasn’t laced with resentment this time.

“So. I hear your first night’s sales went very well.”

She nodded. “Yeah, Hank was impressed. That’s saying something.”

“He was so impressed that he wants to share some of the profits with my boys. Behind both our backs.” Anger began to simmer and he shoved it aside. For now.

Her brow rose. “Excuse me?”

“I was here when you came up from the nightclub—”

“You were already in the apartment? I thought you broke in when I was in the shower.” Her eyes darted around the space, rested on the sofa. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You hid behind the sofa?”

“Yes. So while I believe you when you tell me you sweep the place for auditory and video devices, forgive me if I’m concerned about your consistency. Don’t you ever check behind the furniture, the doors, when you come in here?”

“Most of the time. Sometimes. I was exhausted after the long night—your ‘cartel’ has more varieties of narcotics than any I’ve ever read reports about—and I made a bad decision.”

“You got into the shower so quickly I didn’t have time to warn you. I’d planned to show myself as soon as you came in the door.”

“So why didn’t you?” Controlled fury blazed in her eyes. “I didn’t get into the shower for at least a few minutes.”