Lake Placid itself was exactly the kind of charming mountain town that belonged on postcards. Main Street was lined with Victorian buildings housing cozy restaurants, gift shops selling Olympic memorabilia, and outdoor gear stores. The whole place had an air of faded glory from its Olympic days, but it wore that history well—like an elegant woman who’d aged gracefully and had wonderful stories to tell.
“This is lovely,” Charles said as we walked past a shop window displaying vintage Olympic posters. “Very different from Charming, but it has the same kind of small-town charm.”
I watched Charles take in the sights with genuine appreciation, pointing out architectural details and commenting on the window displays. He had an artist’s eye for beauty, whether it was in cake decorating or noticing the way the afternoon light hit a storefront.
We found a decent-sized grocery store on the edge of town, and Charles immediately went into planning mode, pulling out his phone to make a list of supplies we’d need if we got snowed in for a few days.
“I’m going to make some calls while you shop,” I told him. “Check in with my boss.”
“Of course. Take your time.”
I stepped outside into the crisp mountain air and dialed Gabriel’s number, walking toward a quiet corner of the parking lot where I wouldn’t be overheard.
“Eamon.” Gabriel’s voice was crisp and businesslike. “I was wondering when you’d check in.”
“No signal at the cabin,” I said. “We’re in Lake Placid getting supplies. How’s the situation with Carlo?”
“Escalating. He’s convinced Charles is the leak. He’s been asking around about where Charles might be and discovered Charles has a new boyfriend.”
My blood chilled. “How much does he know?”
“Enough to be dangerous. He knows Charles’s boyfriend is actually an NYPD officer. He’s been making inquiries, trying to get more information about you.”
“And?”
“Our deception there will hold. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“He’ll know by now what car you drive, and with his contacts and a few bribes, he’ll track you down in no time.”
I ran a hand through my hair, watching Charles throughthe store windows as he carefully selected produce. He looked so normal, so beautifully ordinary, picking out apples and checking them for bruises.
“How much more time do we need?” I asked.
“The NYPD is close. Very close. Their undercover officer says he needs a few more days and he’ll have enough to present to a grand jury. Once he’s indicted, Carlo will be too busy fighting federal charges to worry about Charles.”
“And until then?”
“Until then, you keep your protectee safe and away from Carlo’s reach.” Gabriel paused. “Speaking of which, I trust you’re maintaining appropriate professional boundaries?”
The question hit like a punch to the gut. I watched Charles laugh at something on his phone—probably a text from Solstice or Dani—and felt my chest tighten with longing. “Of course,” I lied.
“Eamon.” Gabriel’s voice carried a warning. “I can hear it in your voice. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re feeling, remember that this is an assignment. Charles Garrity is a job, not a relationship.”
“I know that,” I snapped, my usual defensiveness kicking in. “I’m not some bloody amateur who doesn’t know how to?—”
“Then why do you sound like you’re about to break every rule in the book again?”
“I…” I started, then stopped, all my bluster draining away. “Gabriel, I hate this.”
“Hate what?”
“Lying to him. Every day, every conversation, I’m lying to him about who I am, what I am. And he trusts me. He looks at me like I’m…” I swallowed hard. “Like I’m someone worth caring about.”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched so long I wondered if Gabriel had hung up. “Eamon,” he said finally, and his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “In all the years I’ve known you, through all your complaints and arguments and general insubordination, I have never once heard you express guilt about maintaining your cover.”
“Well, congratulations. There’s a first time for everything.”
