That sounded like Wolfe. As the body man for the Deep Ops crew, Wolfe took danger to a whole new level. Yet like the rest of them, he had fallen under Millie’s spell and would do anything for her.
Millie pointed to what looked like an innocuous bed table. “It’s fully loaded. So if you put your phone or anything else that needs to be charged on the surface or in the drawer, it’ll be charged by morning.”
He grinned. “How convenient.”
“In addition”—she pointed to the closet—“if you have clothes that need to be refreshed or unwrinkled, you just put them in there and push the blue button on the inside.”
He couldn’t believe it. “Anything else?”
She coughed. “Not that I’m going to tell you about…except for in the bathroom. In the guest bathroom, the mirror is a smart mirror with computer access as well as TV. So you can check your emails while you brush your teeth. And”—she rolled her eyes—“I installed a smart toilet. There are even some health monitoring features if you want to check your urine.”
“I’m good.” He backed away from her.
“That’s what I figured,” she murmured.
He had never in his life wanted to kiss her more, and he pretty much had wanted to kiss her since the first day they’d met.
“So,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “Let’s get that pizza going.”
“Agreed.” He waited for her to leave the bedroom first. Millicent Frost was too appealing and way too close to that bed. She shone with light and brilliance in a small package, and he was as fucked up as it was humanly possible to be. She deserved better than a burnout like him.
He’d protect her from this ridiculous murder charge and then get out of her life. As for his life, maybe he’d leave DC for a while. Perhaps go back to school. Books likely couldn’t save him again, but at this point, did he care?
For now, he’d eat pizza with the most spectacular woman he’d ever met.
Chapter Eight
Millie placed the pizza in the middle of the table. While Scott had thought they would order in, if there was one thing she loved to bake, it was pizza.
“This looks amazing.” Scott reached over to pour Cabernet into their glasses.
The moment felt intimate, with the wind blasting the windows and the house so warm and cozy. Millie hadn’t felt off her game like this in a long time. She couldn’t forget the sight of Scott defending her and how powerful he’d been, how dangerous. She never would’ve imagined the smooth lawyer would be able to fight like that. Oh, she’d never admit it to anybody, but it had been impressive, and frankly, a turn-on.
He looked up. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” She hustled to the back door, put two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle.
“Wow.”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “What?”
He scanned her, his eyes betraying a spark of amusement. “That’s quite the whistle you got there. It’s a bit of a surprise.”
“Yeah. It’s how we communicate on the river.”
An answering whistle came back and Scott chuckled. “That was a bit lower than yours. Don’t tell me. JT’s coming for dinner.”
“JT would never miss homemade pizza.” She moved to the cupboard to take down another plate.
“Good. I’d like to ask him a few more questions about what’s going on in town and who might be here,” Scott said, working his case, as always.
She paused. “I don’t want you to let your other cases slide just because of me. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“I’m not. I have good associates, and if I’m needed, I’ll drive back to town.”
She cleared her throat. “That brings up another issue.”
He looked up from pouring the wine. “What issue?”
