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“Right.”

She lifted the bottle she was holding. “Want a beer?”

Now that I know you’re alive and well… “Sure. But I’m not too keen on warm beer and backwash.”

Her low, husky laugh got him right in the dick. “Luckily I run a business that makes damn good money so I can afford more than one beer.”

“Well, hot damn. You’re flush if you can afford two.”

She flipped a hand to the spot next to her. “Take a load off. I’ll go grab you one.”

“I can grab it. Just tell me where.”

“The fridge.”

“I figured it wasn’t in the oven.”

“You’re pretty damn smart, you know that?”

“Sometimes. Other times, not so much.” Especially since he wanted to knock boots with the woman who was his boss. The one who signed his paycheck. Who also let him live rent-free in a kick-ass cabin in the woods.

With one last glance at that particular woman, he opened the squeaky screen door first, then the inner door, and headed inside.

Despite being a part of the team and living on the property for over eight months, it was the first time he’d ever been inside the farmhouse.

He easily found the light switch and lit up the kitchen. When he glanced around, he found an upgraded, modern version of a farmhouse kitchen. The “old-fashioned” looking appliances—that were far from old—had to have set the Dougherty women back a good whack.

Despite the high-end appliances, he couldn’t see Vi or Indie standing at the stove cooking, since they seemed more feral than domesticated. He couldn’t speak to Scarlet since she was still serving in the Guard and he hadn’t met her yet, but his first instinct would be to say she most likely wasn’t a Suzy Homemaker type, either.

He carefully listened for other movement in the house but heard nothing but the hum of the refrigerator and the air conditioning kicking on. At least until Vi joined him inside.

“You get lost?”

“Just admiring this nice kitchen.”

“Do you like to cook?”

“I like to eat. That’s the extent of my relationship with food.”

Vi headed over to the retro fridge and pulled out two more bottles of beer. He plucked one from her fingers and twisted open the cap. “I’d open yours for you but I’m sure your badass self can handle it and I’d rather not insult my boss.”

“Good choice,” she said as she opened her beer.

After tapping the neck of her bottle with his, they both took a sip. Only, the draw on his beer was a lot longer than hers. He hadn’t realized he’d been so damn thirsty.

“Where’s Indie?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Unless it has to do with an assignment, we don’t normally check in with each other,” she answered.

But they lived in the same damn house. “So, she isn’t home?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Wouldn’t you know if someone else was in the house?”

“I’d know if someone who didn’t belong here was in the house. And I would handle that appropriately.”

That response made one side of his mouth creep upward before he took another long swig of beer. Both Vi and Indie were fearless. He didn’t have to assume, because it was obvious, that had come from their father and how they were raised.