“With the connections Walsh has, I wouldn’t be surprised. But whoever’s leading the charge within the CIA has it locked down. I’ve called everyone I know, and they haven’t been able to uncover anything new.” Nick braced his left shoulder against the wall. Skin still pale, he looked only a breath better than when he’d first arrived. “At this rate, I’ll have to ask Sloane to go fully rogue and hack her boss’ computer. That’ll cost me far more than a kidney.”
“The way your eyes light up every time you mention her name, I’d say she already has your heart.”
Nick shoved Bodie as he straightened. “When the hell did you get all sappy?”
“I’m still waiting on that story.”
“And you’ll be waiting for a long-ass time.” He snapped his gaze to the garage door when Buck and Dalton walked through. “You and Rowan should go get some sleep. We’ll go through the footage, see if there’s anything worth sending to Sloane.”
Bodie’s heart skipped at the thought of spending another night snuggled together on his couch — her head on his shoulder, half her body draped over his — but he tamped it down. “We can help patrol?—”
“Zain’s running patrols with Kash and Nyx, tonight. Said they felt left out.” Nick smiled. “I think they just need a break from baby duty. But we could all use the help. So, rest. No one’s getting the jump on us tonight.”
Bodie glanced at Dalton — bet his ass the guy would find a way to join Zain and Kash. Not because he didn’t trust the other men. More because of the ugly memories this mission had resurfaced. And not just Evan dying. Learning Rowan’s father was being held captive had obviously opened up a few festering wounds — gotten them bleeding again. And Bodie suspected sleep wasn’t a luxury Dalton had much of, right now.
Rowan climbed the stairs to his loft, waited as he disarmed all his security, then headed inside. She kicked off her boots, shrugging out of her jacket as she walked across the room, tossing it over the back of a chair. He followed, watching her as she glanced longingly at the sofa before angling toward the kitchen.
He shuffled in behind her, shaking his head as she reached for the coffee pot. “Does caffeine have a reverse effect on you? Because most people would be opting for tea or a shot of whiskey.”
She shrugged. “Coffee helps me think.”
“The whole idea of getting some sleep is to turn off your brain.”
“It’s gonna keep processing, regardless. Might as well attempt to give it something useful to focus on instead of…”
Her voice trailed off, but he knew how she’d planned on finishing.
He placed his hand on her hip. “You’ve been better the last few nights. Nothing a gentle rub on your arm hasn’t eased.”
“Which means, I’m due.”
“Or maybe, you’ve just found a way to battle the nightmares that works better than late-night coffee.”
Her muscles tensed a moment before she turned, stared up at him, all big blue eyes and porcelain skin.
He stepped closer, all but trapped her against the counter as he dipped his head down, paused a breath away. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She palmed his jaw, looked at him as if she needed to memorize every detail — drink it all in the way he’d been breathing her in all week. “Is that your go-to phrase?”
“Just my lack of a filter.” He nuzzled her neck, dropped a kiss on her pulse point, damn near died when she moaned his name. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true, or that I’m not sincere.”
Her breath caught as he nipped his way up her neck and claimed her mouth.
She definitely tasted like the next sixty years. The kind of future he’d never let himself consider. All the leftover trauma from his years in the Army — the endless times he hadn’t measured up. How he’d always been too strong or too protective.
Too much of everything, yet never enough.
Rowan fisted his shirt, holding him close, eyes wide. She opened her mouth, closed it, clinging to him as if she thought he’d disappear. Slip away the second she unclenched her hands.
Bodie brushed back her hair. “Are you okay?”
Her chin quivered. Not much and not something most people would notice, but he did. Saw the slight tremor in her bottom lip, the hint of doubt in the fine lines around her eyes. “I…”
“If I’m moving too fast…”
His chest tightened at the beginnings of a frown. The same look he’d seen on every woman once they’d spent a bit of time with him — seen beyond the curtain.
He swallowed, forced the words he’d been trying to crush. “Or if you’ve changed your mind…”
