“Where were you?” Mitch couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
She kissed his cheek. “Cat and I were picking up a few shells out on the beach.”
Stealth stretched his neck, seeming to search for something. Or someone.
“Joey’s helping her wash off the shells. They might need some help.” Liz pointed toward the beach area.
“She’d better be ready to give language lessons next week,” Stealth grumped.
“Why?”
“Drake’s sending me on a specialized mission. May run into some people who don’t speak English, so I need to be able to fake it enough to live.” Stealth spoke as if he’d just explained why he wanted ice cream instead of cake.
“Okay,” Liz said. “But I meant why would Cat being able to give language lessons be important.”
Stealth glanced toward the door to the beach as it opened. Cat and Joey walked in laughing, then headed in the group’s direction.
Quick as lightning, Stealth looked back at Liz. “She speaks five languages. English, Portuguese, French, Spanish, and German. On a good day, she’s like a walking translator.”
“You must be talking about me.” Barefoot, with her shiny, straight, dark hair draped over the shoulder of her colorful caftan, Cat smiled. “Don’t forget Creole, Dutch, Swedish, plus a few other indigenous languages. Oh, and Italian.”
All the agents in the group shook their head in unison. “Trust us. She’s not that good at Italian.”
“I’ve got an idea, Stealth.” The corners of Liz’s lips tipped slightly upward when he looked in her direction. “Why not just take Cat with you on the mission? That way she can translate for you in real time.”
A bubble of silence enclosed the group. No one made a comment. Or a sarcastic joke. Or even cleared their throat. Drake, who’d just walked within earshot of the group, turned and headed back in the direction he’d come. Cat raised her chin, turned, swirling her caftan behind her, then walked away. Clenching his jaw, Stealth narrowed his eyes at Liz and took a step forward.
Placing himself between her and Stealth, Mitch stop-signed his fellow agent. “Ease it on back.”
Stealth stared at him for a few moments. Testosterone playing a game of ping pong between the two men.
Finally, Stealth lowered his eyes, grunted, and shook his head as he glanced in Cat’s direction.
Taking Liz’s elbow, Mitch guided her toward the jukebox area.
“What did I say that upset everyone?” she asked. “All I meant was that I had to use a translator a number of times on my newspaper assignments.”
“Don’t worry, honey. Stealth and Cat will get over it.”
“Um, I smell a story there,” Liz said.
Mitch pulled her into a slow dance as the music from the jukebox eased around the room. “Someday I’ll tell you about it. For now, let it go.”
She giggled as she tweaked his lower lip with her finger, letting the tip of her fingernail trail beneath his chin and down his neck. “What say I let everything go but you?”
He grabbed her fingers and shot her his you’re-gonna-get-in-trouble expression, then kissed her lightly. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Hey, Short Stuff.” Reese looped his arm across Liz’s shoulders. “What are you going to do while Mitch is out fighting the bad guys?”
“I’m going to have some fun of my own,” she said. “I’ve taken a consulting position with some slightly official government agencies.”
Mitch was proud of her, but mostly he was glad she’d found something that made her happy. He included himself in those things that made her happy.
She’d even gone to a movie with him…in a theater…in the dark. Just for her, he’d picked two seats on the end of the row, within easy sight of the exit. Halfway through the show, she’d stopped clutching his hand, but he’d picked hers back up again. He’d missed the warmth of her against his skin.
Drake joined the group, fitting in with them as more than just the Director of OPAQUE that was his official job. “You about ready?”
“Yeah.” Mitch turned to Liz. “The guys have been practicing some moves on the Q40s. Thought they’d give a little show. Why don’t we walk on down to the shoreline and watch from there? That way I can let them know if there’s anything they need to change.”
