Cask Strength (Agents Irish and Whiskey) by Layla Reyne

Author:Layla Reyne [Reyne, Layla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2017-04-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Monday’s practice was a mindfuck. No other word for it. Worse than all of Sunday’s ups and downs. Jamie struggled to do his job on the court while Ethan and Aidan observed, his partner never more than a few feet from the AD.

Jamie had been through undercover training at Academy, but seeing an agent as skilled as Aidan put those lessons into practice boggled his mind. All of that Aidan Talley purpose and arrogance channeled into suave, charming Ian Daley. Shoulders back, he walked with a casual strut instead of his usual determined stride and his smile, while artificially wide, was no less bright and brilliant. He shook all the right hands and spoke to all the coaches, assistants, and players, spending longer and flashing more bling with Blake and his crew. As for staying in Ethan’s orbit, the maneuver gave the impression of interest while allowing Aidan to listen to their suspect’s conversations.

Jamie understood all that; didn’t mean he liked it.

Nor did he like the prospect of attending Ethan’s welcome party. After Aidan dropped him off and went to park the Chevelle, Jamie stood on the sidewalk outside the AD’s giant brick colonial, unwilling to enter. Pretending to be a coach on the court was one thing. There he felt like he at least knew what he was doing, like he wasn’t a complete fraud. Pretending to be a coach at a party full of donors, swindling them out of their money, was a whole different story.

“I told you to go on inside while I parked the Chevelle,” Aidan said, rounding the corner at a trot, his pale cheeks rosy. “It’s fucking freezing.”

The chill outside couldn’t touch the cold spreading through Jamie’s veins. He stared blankly ahead, up the walk toward the brightly lit house. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” Aidan led him off the sidewalk and into the shadow of a huge oak tree. “Marcus, Riley and Press beat Blake’s crew in that scrimmage today. I think they can win it all without them. You want that, don’t you?”

Jamie nodded. “They’re good. They’ve got a shot. The whole team shouldn’t be punished because Blake’s a greedy idiot.”

“Then we’re going to go in there and make that happen.”

So certain, in the job and the cover.

“How do you do it? Switch back and forth so easily.”

Aidan waved a hand at his smart-casual appearance—wind-blown auburn hair, checkered scarf artfully draped around his neck, fitted wool overcoat cinched tight. He looked as comfortable in Ian’s attire as he did in Aidan’s three-piece suits. “Ian’s just a cover, like any other cover I’ve assumed for a case.” Stepping closer, he lowered his voice and laid a gloved hand over his chest. “I know who I am. Aidan Talley. Widower, son, brother, uncle, godfather, surly Irish ex-pat.” He grinned. “FBI field agent and Jameson Walker’s partner.”

Jamie tried to return the gesture but failed, his smile nearly as weak as his knees, made so by Aidan’s words and the daunting situation. “But Whiskey isn’t just a cover.

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