That may be true,I silently concede. But decades of doing everything I could to prove myself to the men who doubted me isn’t something I can cast aside easily.
Ace chuckles. “Fine. No carrying you through HQ.” He leads me through the living room and towards a dining area with along table set with a dozen chairs. “But if you get tired, tell me. Okay?”
“I will.”
I won’t.
A kiss brushes the top of my head. I can feel Ace smile against my hair. “We’ll take it slow. How about that?”
So we do. First through the communal living spaces—the living room, dining area, and an expansive kitchen that Ace explains is usually used for team dinners or special events, like holidays and celebrations. We check out the library, which has floor to ceiling shelves stuffed with books, ranging from romance novels sent by Lucy, who’s married to one of the B and A Bravo team members, to a collection of books about classic cars that used to belong to Ace’s dad.
Then we head back through the living room to the opposite side of the house, where the business part of Blade and Arrow takes place. There are three large offices, all unoccupied since it’s the weekend, a conference room, and another room that contains all their security equipment and several safes to store their weapons.
The basement is separated into two sections, as well. To one side, there’s a game room with a pool table, ping-pong, foosball, and stacks of board games. Attached to that is a home theater, and beyond, a two-lane bowling alley. “Rafe wanted to put it in for Eden,” Ace explains. “It’s kind of a special thing for them. And we didn’t mind helping. Once a month or so, we’ll have a team game night. Board games, bowling, or if it’s nice, we’ll play some cornhole out on the deck.”
On the other side of the basement are the fully-equipped gym and shooting range, which are far nicer than the ones I use back in Seattle. “When you’re feeling better, you could walk on the treadmill,” Ace offers. He laughs at my expression of horror.“What, were you planning on doing a full workout tomorrow morning, like you usually do?”
Well. Not exactly. But I wouldn’t mind jogging on the treadmill while I watch Ace run through his own workout—his T-shirt all damp and clinging to his muscles, those powerful legs working and his biceps flexing. Then he runs a hand through his spiky blonde hair and turns to me with those bright blue eyes and enigmatic smile…
“Yara?”
I startle as Ace’s voice breaks into my fantasy. My face flushes guiltily. “Yes?”
His big hand comes to my cheek. Leaning down so his face is level with mine, his brow furrows as he inspects me. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.”
He strokes his thumb across the bruise on my jaw; so feather-light I can barely feel it. “I know you don’t want to tell me if you’re hurting. But I can’t help if I don’t know.”
“It’s not that,” I insist. “I’m not hurting?—”
“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up. “So your fingers don’t hurt at all? Even though you refused to take anything stronger than ibuprofen?”
Once again, I’m torn. Instinct tells me one thing; my emotions, another.
He called you his girlfriend,that little voice reminds.He shot a man for you. Flat-out refused to leave your hospital room, even when the nurses threatened to call security. Brought you here when he didn’t have to. Don’t you think he deserves your honesty?
Looking at it that way, it doesn’t take long to make a decision. “I’m in a little pain,” I amend. “But it’s not too bad. I’ll take some more painkillers soon.”
“Well, let’s get upstairs, then,” Ace replies. “We’ve seen the basement and the main floor, except—” He frowns. “The safe room and egress to the garage. I need to show you that.”
“Safe room?”
“Yeah.” Ace leads me from the gym back towards the game room. “We have a safe room in the basement and another on the first floor. The one down here is in the back of the bowling alley. It has an underground egress to the garage, and a ladder that goes up to the one on the first floor. That one’s in the dining room. We’re working on something for the second and third floors, but we haven’t come up with a final plan yet.”
Once we reach the bowling alley again, Ace opens a door that looks like it leads to a closet. But inside, there’s a decent-sized room with cabinets on one wall, a grid of surveillance monitors on another, and a row of chairs lining the third. On the fourth wall is a ladder that leads to a trapdoor in the ceiling and a door that presumably heads out to the garage.
“Not that you’ll need to use this room,” Ace adds. With a note of pride in his voice, he explains, “Anyone who tries to get in here will have to climb two unscalable fences, somehow get past all our security cameras, bypass the biometric locks,andtake on the five of us.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “Actually. Six of us. Since you’re here now.”
Some of the self-doubt that’s been haunting me slips away. Not all of it, but a little. Enough to make me feel more like the strong Yara I used to be.
As we head back upstairs, I say, “I can fire left-handed. Since my right is out of commission for a while. But I can hit with eighty percent accuracy with my left. So I could still help if you needed.”
“Yara.” Ace kisses my cheek. Despite spending the last sixteen-plus hours at the hospital, his breath is minty and he stillsmells faintly of citrus. “I have no doubt you could help if it came to it.” When we reach the first floor, he pauses, then turns to face me. “But I hope you’ll let me help you for now. Not because you can’t do it yourself. But because I really want to.”
Oh.
