The Choices We Make
Chapter 1
Don sighed and pushed his chair back from his desk, glancing at his watch. 8:00 Friday night and he was still at the office, catching up on paperwork. It had been a remarkably quiet evening, and he was one of only a handful of people left at their desks.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to rid them of some tension as he contemplated what to do with the rest of his evening. He stood up to stretch and his elbow bumped his gun, as always strapped to his side. He glanced down, realizing how long it had been since he'd gone out and put some time in on the gun range. Smiling, he tossed his pen onto his desk and grabbed his car keys.
Don breathed out slowly, then squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three shots set in a close grouping. Pushing in another clip, he punched another trio of bullets into the target, then set down his gun and pressed the release button to bring the target back. The buzzer sounded and the target whirred back toward him, and as he studied it closely as it drew close.
"Nice shooting," a familiar voice sounded from behind him.
…
"Agent Eppes, I don't think I've been hit on at a gun range before," Robin replied mischievously.
Don grinned down at her, and for a long moment, their gazes locked and heated. Then Don jerked his chin, gesturing toward the weapon she carried. "So, let's see how you handle that thing."
"I wouldn't mind some pointers," Robin replied. She pulled out her ear and eye protection, and Don put his back on, then removed the target he had just used and clipped a new one onto the wire. He pushed the button to send it back to the end of the range, and Robin took position in the front of the railing, Don standing behind her.
"How much practice have you had with a handgun?" Don asked, leaning in close to Robin's ear guards, enjoying the scent of her hair under the guise of being heard. Robin opened a box and took out a clip and pushed it into the gun, mentally thanking whatever deity that was out there that she opted to come to the range tonight, figuring it would be more or less empty and she wouldn't be totally embarrassed by her poor shooting performance.
"Well," she replied, "my dad was a cop, and he believed everyone should know how to handle firearms, so he made sure I knew how to load, unload, aim, and care for a gun, but I was never very good at hitting what I aimed at, much to my dad's dismay, and it's been years since I've used a gun. So I'd appreciate whatever pointers you'd like to share…" she trailed off, turning to meet his gaze. Yeah, and I'd appreciate anything else you want to share with me also, Agent Eppes, she thought to herself. The man was definitely hot, and there was something that she found sexy about his intensity and passion for his job, an intensity that manifested itself in his face.
Don's smile was less full-blown than it had been a moment before—the corners of his mouth were tugged up in a smile, but his eyes were serious, locked onto hers in that intense gaze of his.
Robin glanced down first, trying to figure out if she should make another move. Don reached out and covered her hands with his, raising her arms and moving in behind her so that his body was directly positioned behind hers. She could feel the lean, hard muscles of his chest and arms as he leaned into her, guiding her arms up and toward the target. Robin faced forward, trying to focus on the target but instead focusing on Don's closeness and warmth.
"Now breathe in," Don instructed, "and gently squeeze…" Robin's arms jerked as she fired off three shots in short succession, then lowered her hands to look. She grimaced, and ducked her head. "Gee, even with a larger gun I still can't actually hit anything."
Don laughed, his head close to her ear, and she shivered a bit as she felt his warm breath on her neck. His hands moved up to her elbows, and bent them a bit. "It wasn't that bad—at least you hit the paper. You just need to relax a bit—you're too tense, and it is throwing off your shots. Bend your elbows a bit more to absorb some of the recoil." He felt her body tense as she took a deep breath, and then relax as she let it out again, leaning a bit more against him as she exhaled, and he felt his own body respond to her closeness. He smiled to himself, glad he had stayed late at the office, and enjoying the intimate contact of their bodies.
"Better," he responded as she lowered the gun. "Now try this…"
Fifteen minutes later, Robin was ready to head out—her arms, unaccustomed to the shooting, were getting tired. She pulled down the target and set her ear and eye guards down on the table, unloading her gun as Don watched. Finished, she looked up at the FBI agent. "So," she asked him, eyes twinkling, "what do you do when you've found yourself a pretty girl at a gun range on a Friday night?"
Don moved in closer to Robin, studying her smile. He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to kiss her cheek gently. "It depends on what she's up for. Have you eaten dinner yet?"
Robin shook her head, pleased at the turn of events. She had eaten lunch with Don once before, an impromptu lunch in the cafeteria downstairs of the FBI building, when she was working on her gang case and thought that his team might have a lead on what was going on. She'd left him with her phone number, but he had never called, and so she figured he was already involved with someone.
Don unlocked his car and opened Robin's door, then went around to the driver's side and climbed in. He turned to face Robin, and asked her, "So, do you have any preference for dinner?" Their eyes met and held, and as their gaze lengthened, it heated as they both remembered the scent and feel of each other from their close contact at the gun range. Robin's eyes dropped to Don's lips, and her own parted involuntarily as he leaned into her and kissed her, his hand coming up to cup her face and slide into her hair.
Don's blood heated, and his head cleared of all rational thought as he kissed Robin. It'd been months since his date with Nadine, a brief physical encounter that he'd regretted as soon as it was over. He needed, craved physical contact, and he felt a connection with the female US Attorney that he'd never felt with Nadine. When Robin had given him her phone number back when they had met over lunch about the gang case, he had contemplated calling her, but then tossed her number, figuring that he didn't have the time or energy to start a relationship. Now as he kissed her, he tried to suppress the voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he shouldn't get involved. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her in closer, and then mentally cursed as his cell phone rang.
He pulled out his phone and glanced at it—it was David. Sighing, he opened it and answered. "Eppes." His blood ran cold, and he sat straight up. Robin pulled back from where she'd been kissing his ear. "What?" He glanced at his watch, and replied, "yeah, I'm… I'm on my way. Right." Lines furrowed his brow as he wiped his forehead.
"What's wrong?" Robin questioned, sighing to herself a frustrated sigh.
"I've gotta go," Don replied, looking upset.
"Are you ok?" Robin asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm, umm… I gotta go."
Robin nodded, sliding across the seat away from Don and reaching for the door handle.
"I'll talk to you later," Don told Robin as she climbed out of the car.
"Fine," she replied, but he was already putting the car into gear, focused on the phone call he had received.
"LAPD were involved in an unrelated investigation when they heard a gunshot. They investigated and discovered that an ATF agent named Nikki Davis had committed suicide, and they called us in to investigate." David's phone call echoed through Don's mind.
"An ATF agent named Nikki Davis had committed suicide…" Don's mind flashed back several years, to New Mexico and Nikki Davis, who had been Nikki Martin when he'd known her.
His heart pounded as he drove, clenching the wheel as thoughts of Nikki came unbidden into his mind—the sound of her voice, the way she wore her hair, the meal they'd shared on their first date. He hadn't thought of her in a long time, but now he could feel her thumb stroking the back of his neck in the idle way she'd had, remember her scent as vividly as he had just breathed in Robin's minutes before.
He thought of the way Nikki had shouted at him, tears in her eyes, as he told her that their relationship was over, that he was walking out and sabotaging another relationship before he could become too attached. He had known that she loved him, and he felt himself falling for her, which is why he pushed her back and ended the relationship.
He bit his lip and pushed down harder on the accelerator, then called David to ask for directions.