“Stubborn works, too.”
Sloane stopped tapping, looked over at them. “You know I’m only twenty feet away, right? That I can hear you?”
Nick grabbed another mug, crossed over to her and placed it on the side of her desk. “Good, then maybe you’ll stop working yourself to death and take a break.”
Sloane scoffed, took a generous sip as she leaned back in the chair. “I can’t afford to take a break until I figure out what the hell Hill’s hiding. It’s in here. I just haven’t found it, yet.”
“Then, it’ll still be in there in the morning.”
She looked up at him, all green eyes and bouncy curls. “No guarantee we will, though.”
“Sloane.”
“Buck’s had to shut the power off six times in four days to avoid drones and curious boaters from discovering this place isn’t quite as dormant as advertised. And I know Tierney’s leaving false trails. Setting traps. It’s only a matter of time before some group of highly trained assholes figures it out. And I’d rather be long gone before they do.”
Nick stared at her, admiring the delicate curve of her jaw, the way the blue light from the screen deepened the green in her eyes. How it didn’t matter if she held a pistol or a keyboard, her presence hit him with the same lethal impact.
He rested his hip against her desk, leaned in. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Sloane choked on a sip of coffee, wiping at her mouth before eyeing him as if he’d lost his mind. “Not sure what that has to do with the current situation.”
“Nothing.” Nick inched closer. “Everything.” He reached out, tucked some hair behind her ear. “How can I help?”
Her breath caught from the simple caress, and she stared up at him, eyes wide, an adorable blush creeping across her cheeks before she blinked, seemed to jerk herself back. “I thought this was an intervention?”
“It was, but we both know nothing I say will sway you when you’re this focused, so tell me what I can do to make this go faster.”
She laughed. “God, just when I think you can’t surprise me…” She motioned to the second monitor. “I can throw some files up there, and you can go through them.”
Nick pulled out a chair, settled in. “What am I looking for?”
“A reason for Hill to want us dead.”
“That’s pretty vague…” He trailed off, exhaled. “Which is why you’re still searching.”
She pointed to a box at the bottom of the screen. “I’ve been putting names, companies and cities from the missions into my algorithm, then having it scrub everything it can find on both the CIA database and the dark web. See if I can find a connection.”
“Is that safe considering…”
Sloane merely crossed her arms, stared at him.
He held up one hand. “Right. You’re the brains, I’m the brawn. Forget I asked.”
He focused on the screen, scrolling through the mission specs, after-action reports, typing anything that seemed vaguely important into Sloane’s program. The minutes bled into hours as rain tapped the windows, any light beyond fading to black.
He pushed back from the keyboard, pointing to the coffee mug. She nodded and went back to work as he walked over to the kitchen, got a new pot brewing. The muscles in his neck ached, his ass numb from sitting on the edge of the seat, willing something to happen, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she kept digging without shouting at the walls.
Lashing out at the darkness.
A reminder that he’d be lost without her. All the times he’d asked for favors — had her bust through firewalls or hack codes. More proof that he’d been right.
That he’d never find someone else who understood him on the level Sloane did.
He mulled the thought over as he poured two fresh cups, pausing to watch her work, when she straightened, froze, thenstarted tapping on the keyboard, back rigid, shoulders squared. He crossed the room, snugged up beside her. “Either you found something, or I’ve lost my ability to read people.”
She kept typing, sparing him a quick side eye. “A thread, I just… holy shit.”
“What?”
