"I heard you the first time." Her voice carries through the wood, muffled but amused. "Patience is a virtue, Mr. Garrett."
"Punctuality is a protocol."
The hair dryer cuts off. Footsteps approach. The door swings open, and whatever lecture I had prepared dies in my throat.
She's changed out of her travel clothes into a soft green sweater that makes her hazel eyes look almost gold. Her auburn curls are loose around her shoulders, still slightly damp at the ends, and she's put on just enough makeup to make her freckles stand out rather than disappear. Dark jeans hug her curves, and she's barefoot, toenails painted a deep red.
"You're not wearing shoes."
She glances down at her feet, then back up at me with a smile that says she knows exactly what effect she's having. "Astute observation. Give me thirty seconds."
She disappears back into the cabin, leaving the door open. An invitation, or a test. With Mara, I'm starting to think everything is both.
I step inside, scanning the space automatically. Her laptop is open on the kitchen counter, screen dark but indicator light blinking. A notebook beside it, filled with equations I couldn't begin to understand. Her suitcase is open in the corner, clothes spilling out in organized chaos.
She emerges from the bedroom area pulling on ankle boots, hopping slightly to keep her balance. "Okay, I'm ready. Lead the way to this family dinner situation."
"It's not a situation. It's dinner."
"With a group of highly trained military operatives who are simultaneously assessing whether I'm a threat, a liability, or just generally annoying." She grabs a jacket from the back of the couch. "That's a situation."
I hold the door for her, waiting until she's through before pulling it closed and checking the lock. Twice.
"They're not assessing you."
"Please." She falls into step beside me, her shorter legs working double time to match my stride. I slow down without thinking about it. "I run a company with three hundred employees. I know what it looks like when people are sizing someone up."
"They're curious. It's different."
"Curious about what? The difficult client who drove herself through the mountains without security? The woman who made Deck's best tactical planner intercept her on a back road?"
I stop walking. She takes two more steps before realizing and turning back.
"How do you know I'm Deck's best?"
Her smile is quick and sharp. "You told me yourself. Back in the lodge. 'I'm the best tactical planner we have.' Direct quote."
Right. I did say that.
"And," she continues, "I may have done some additional research on the drive up. Guardian Peak Security has an excellent reputation in certain circles. Your threat assessments are considered some of the most thorough in the private sector."
"You researched us while driving through mountain terrain at excessive speed."
"Voice to text is a wonderful thing." She starts walking again, and I have to catch up. "Also, for the record, I wasn't speeding. I was maintaining an appropriate velocity for the road conditions."
"You were doing sixty two in a forty five zone."
She glances over her shoulder. "Were you tracking my vehicle before you intercepted me?"
"Standard protocol for high value client extraction."
"High value client." Her laugh is low and warm in the cold evening air. "That's the nicest thing anyone's called me all week."
The lodge comes into view, warm light spilling from the windows. Through the glass, I can see the team gathering. Wolfe and Sadie are already there, Sadie's bright chatter visible even from this distance. Cade and Natalie are in the kitchen, and I can smell the shepherd's pie from here. Deck and Vivian are by the fireplace, his hand resting on her belly in that unconscious way expectant fathers develop.
This is my family. The people I'd die for. The people I've built a life around after the Marines took everything else.
And I'm about to introduce them to a woman who's been in my head for three weeks straight.
