Protective Operation

by Danica Winters

  Zoey nodded, but she still appeared reticent at Shaye’s intrusion into her plan. “And just so you know, Wyatt, while we aren’t here to cause trouble, we are hoping to stay off the radar.”

  “Does that mean what I think it does?” Wyatt asked, giving Zoey a tired look.

  “It means that if you don’t want to put your career in jeopardy, it is best if you don’t ask too many questions. And we will do our best to keep you out of our trouble,” Zoey said.

  Wyatt swore under his breath.

  Shaye dropped her hands into a prayer position between her knees as she turned toward him, hoping that he would see that she was speaking to him in all earnestness. “For now, there has to be something you can do with this child. Something that will ensure his safety until the danger sweeping through this community is resolved.”

  A lump swelled in her throat as she thought about the truth she had just danced around. The community wasn’t the problem nearly as much as she was.

  “There is another option,” Wyatt said, but his face paled slightly as he spoke. “My mother, Eloise Fitzgerald, has always had a soft spot for taking in kids who are in need. She would box my ears if she heard I had gone against you guys and put this baby in foster care.”

  “Yes, and Anya will love having him over there. She loves babies,” Zoey said, supporting her with a hand on her shoulder. “And if you need to write up a report or something, you can say we’re working as consultants on the case, helping to find the child’s parents. And maybe, when things cool down, we could come and see him. Help your mom out, or whatever you need.”

  “Whoa, I’m not putting any of this in writing,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “If I do, I’ll be out on my ass. I’ve been walking a fine line at the department for the last year or two. If they find out I didn’t follow the departmental policy on this one... Well, we’re not going to talk about what would happen.”

  Chad sighed. “Wyatt, you can’t put your job at risk for us. That’s not right, either.”

  Zoey shot him a look, but Shaye couldn’t disagree with him.

  Wyatt stood up and looked down the hall in the direction Mindy and Jarrod had fled with the child, then turned back. “The way I see it, none of this discussion ever happened. For now, I’ll take him over to my mom’s place. He can stay there for a bit, but I want you to look into the whereabouts of this boy’s family. When you find them, you tell me.”

  “And if we don’t?” Shaye asked, a sliver of hope curling around her dreams of having a child.

  Wyatt looked at her with a deadly seriousness. “I don’t advocate breakin’ any laws just so you all can play house. When it comes to this boy, we are going to do what’s best.”

  As Wyatt disappeared down the hall, so did her hope and dreams of a future with this baby.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Holy crap, Shaye had to have lost her mind. He couldn’t believe that she’d actually offered to adopt the baby. With everything going on, he hadn’t really considered the long-term prospects of the child. But she must’ve put all kinds of thought into it. And if she had, then why hadn’t she talked to him about it? Which brought him back to the place where he questioned what exactly was going on between them.

  There was no doubt in his mind that she had feelings for him and vice versa, but now he questioned her intentions. There was no way that he would have agreed to something so life-changing without consulting her.

  Clearly, he must’ve been reading more into the situation and what was there.

  They spent the rest of the day sifting through online records and photo banks and any lead that they thought could provide them with more information. Surprisingly, the car-rental website had proved more of a hassle than Zoey had anticipated, but she let out a loud whoop when she finally made it past their safeguards and opened up access to their servers.

  “I’m in,” Zoey said, showing them all her tablet’s screen like it was a major award.

  Shaye was sitting beside him on the sofa, but since Wyatt had left with Peanut, they had barely said a word to one another. He glanced over at her, hoping that this little bit of good news would help raise her spirits, but she seemed unchanged.

  He stuffed his phone in his pocket, frustrated both with his lack of headway and his inability to say the words that needed to be said to Shaye. Part of him wished he could go back in time and tell Zoey that they would keep the baby and that Wyatt needed to stay away, but it was too late now.

  They sat in silence, nervously watching as Zoey worked to nail down the identity of the boy’s guardian, until he couldn’t take the silence another moment. He couldn’t sit here idly and watch—he had to move.

  He got up off the couch, went to the kitchen and decided to make himself and the rest of the family tuna salad for lunch. As he stumbled around the kitchen, looking through the drawers for spoons and knives, the door opened and Shaye came inside.

  He stopped as the door closed behind her, and they stood staring at one another. It was as if neither of them knew exactly what to say, or how to proceed.

  “Hungry?” he asked, finally breaking the tense silence between them.

  She nodded, walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water. “Can I help you do something?”

  So this was how it was going to be—they were both going to delicately dance around all the things they were thinking and feeling instead of actually heading them off. He didn’t mind the footwork involved in this dance. He was nearly an expert in avoiding everything that involved actual emotions. He’d been practicing this his whole life, and until recently, doing a damn good job of it... That was, until she had reappeared in his life.

  Or maybe now things could go back to the way they had been—comfortable and completely repressed.

  He handed her a sharp knife and a jar of pickles. Without a word, she pulled out a pickle and started slicing away.

  As they worked in silence, their bodies seem to take on each other’s rhythm, as if they were also weaving around the invisible bombs of stress and trauma that littered the space between them. As they moved, he couldn’t deny that there was something beautiful about it—the way they could eloquently avoid the other’s emotional triggers, yet still want to be so physically close. It was as if their hearts yearned to speak the words that their mouths refused.

  He wished that being with her was easy and carefree—if it had been, perhaps they would be chatting away, dreaming of their futures together. He could almost envision what it would be like had everything been less stressful. By now perhaps they would’ve been sharing a bed and whispering their secrets. She could have been ready to move forward, and he the same.

  At least they were stuck in this weird emotional place, and a life full of drama, together. He could think of no one he would rather be with.

  He shook the thoughts from his head as he pulled out two slices of bread from the bag and rested them on the cutting board near Shaye.

  Yes, repression was far easier than having to feel the sparks in his fingertips when he gently brushed against Shaye’s arm, or the way he felt when he leaned in so close to her that he could smell the sweet scent of lavender on her hair. Everything about her drew him in. It was like she was his own personal drug—and being with her, or contemplating being with her, was nearly as dangerous.

  “What’s that for?” she asked, pointing her knife toward the bread.

  “Gonna make tuna sandwiches for the crew,” he said, like the answer was obvious.

  “Okay...” She sounded a tad confused by the meal, but continued chopping until she had a nice little stack of pickles.

  “Haven’t you had a tuna-salad sandwich before?” He gave her a disapproving look.

  “I’ve had tuna, and sandwiches, but not a tuna sandwich.” She gave him a little grin, and some of the tension he was feeling lifted. He was sure she hadn’t meant to smile, but
it made him feel better nonetheless. More than anything, it gave him hope that with enough time they could get past the initial shock of handing over the baby.

  She had to have known it was the right thing to do. Maybe that was why she was finally coming around.

  She walked over to the fridge and opened the door, peering inside. “Where’s the tuna?”

  “Here, we only have the best—the kind in a can. I know, so much swankier than what you are used to,” he said, walking over to the pantry and pulling out a can of Chicken of the Sea.

  She covered her mouth as she gave a little squeak of a laugh. “Oh, yeah... I...”

  “Have you seen tuna in a can before?”

  “Only at the store,” she admitted, looking even more chagrined.

  “Dang, lady, you are in for a real treat. There’s tuna and then there is tuna,” he said, slapping down a couple of cans on the counter like they were the gold standard for lunch boxes everywhere.

  “Has anyone ever told you that there is likely something really wrong with you?”

  He winked at her in a sexy, sideways glance. “Just because I love a good sandwich.”

  “That among many other things. Namely, that you can’t take anything too seriously.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but he was relieved to have her think such a thing of him. Taking anything too seriously was just a quicker way to age oneself.

  As he set about putting together the ingredients, it felt good to be setting around the kitchen, puttering away and getting the opportunity to do something that was just normal.

  He was really going to have to focus on enjoying the small things in life. If they kept coming under attack it was hard to say how many more of these tiny diamonds of time would come his way.

  He handed Shaye a sandwich and she daintily picked at the crust, pulling it off and setting it on a napkin before taking on the food.

  In truth, tuna salad was far from his favorite lunch, but it was the only thing that had come to mind when he had set foot in the kitchen, but now it was too late to tell her that it wasn’t the best American food out there. Now, hot dogs...that was another story entirely.

  She took a tentative bite, and she nodded as she took another bite. As she looked up from her sandwich, she gave him a thumbs-up. “This is good,” she said, her words muffled as she spoke with her mouth full.

  It was good to see her being less than perfect. And as silly as it was, it made him like her more...and the thought made him realize that every second he spent with her, he liked her more. Given time, he could only imagine what he would feel for her in five, ten or even twenty years.

  From a single second to twenty years, being with her was one journey that he wanted to take.

  He ate a sandwich, downing it with a glass of milk, and then made a few more. After putting some veggies beside the sandwiches on the platter, they carried it out to the living room. Jarrod was sitting with Mindy and whispering. They both looked up and stopped talking as he walked into the room, making Chad wonder what they had been talking about.

  He set the plate on the table in front of the couch. “We thought you guys might be needing a little bite.”

  Jarrod reached over, grabbed a sandwich and started stuffing it in his mouth as he looked over at Zoey, like she was the only one who could answer any questions.

  Zoey didn’t even look up, and seemed completely unaware that anyone else was even in the room.

  “So she hasn’t found anything yet?” Shaye asked Jarrod, motioning in Zoey’s direction.

  Jarrod shook his head, bread crumbs tumbling from his mouth.

  Mindy opened a box. Inside was a stack of black T-shirts. She threw each one of them a shirt, and as Chad caught his, he felt its heaviness. He twisted the fabric in his fingers. “Is this one of your—”

  “Yep, it’s from our new line of bulletproof clothing for Monster Wear.” Mindy nodded and set a shirt beside Zoey, who was so focused she didn’t even budge. “We are working on creating an even lighter, more breathable fabric at our manufacturing plant in Sweden. This is one of our new prototypes. It’s been field-tested and I recommend we all start wearing them.”

  Though he completely understood Mindy’s reason for giving them new gear, it made their position seem even more vulnerable. He gave her a nod of thanks and threw the shirt over his arm.

  Mindy frowned. “It’s important that we all remain as protected as we can. It would look ridiculous if one of us got shot when our family specializes in tactical gear and security and we can’t even keep ourselves safe.”

  He knew she wasn’t just concerned about business. Mindy was scared.

  Jarrod patted her leg, but Mindy straightened her back, putting on a show of resolve—something Chad knew all too much about.

  Poorly masked fear slithered around the room. There was no way Chad could sit there, waiting and watching, biding time until they found the answers they were looking for.

  “Is there a gym in this house anywhere?” he asked, thinking about taking a run in order to work off some of his excess nervous energy.

  Mindy pointed toward the stairs. “Downstairs. It’s on the west end of the hall. I took a peek in there, looks nice.”

  “Cool,” he said. He took Shaye’s hand and led her toward the stairs. Shaye didn’t protest and instead seemed relieved that he was helping her to escape.

  At the bottom of the stairs, to their right, was the hallway that led to the panic room where they were keeping the hostages. From where they stood, he could make out the sounds of Trevor’s voice coming out from behind the room’s open door. He was saying something about having plenty of time on his hands.

  Trevor’s words were false. The one thing they didn’t seem to have much of was time. With each passing second, they were moving closer and closer to being found, attacked and perhaps even killed.

  Yes, he definitely needed to get in a run. Maybe it would help him get his head right. Being pessimistic at a time like this was the last thing that anyone needed. Over the years he’d had it drilled into him that one thing was true above all others—what he thought, and therefore believed, always became reality.

  They would come through this fine. Everything would be fine, he tried to tell himself, but the sounds of his inner voice sounded just as false as Trevor’s words.

  The gym was bigger than he had anticipated, and it appeared as though the owners had every piece of equipment he could imagine. As nice and as fancy as this place looked, in reality he probably only knew how to use about five of the pieces. He’d grown accustomed to makeshift gyms, products of war zones. More than once he had resorted to lifting jugs filled with sand and running on cart paths in order to get in a workout. In fact, he probably spent more time working out in those kinds of conditions than he had in a place like this.

  As he flipped on the lights, the place was filled with brightness, thanks to the mirrors that lined the walls. It was purely a gym-rat thing to want to stand there and watch yourself get all sweaty. Or maybe it wasn’t gym-rat, but rather a narcissistic thing. He understood the need to know whether or not a person was using the proper techniques, but really...it was too much. He preferred sand and grit any day.

  Shaye walked by him and he could hear her suck in a long breath. “Wow, I thought the gym at the palace was nice, but this is a whole different level.”

  “So you work out a lot?” If he didn’t have to work out for his job, he wasn’t sure that he would work out as much as he did. It was so much easier to eat Cheetos and watch HGTV

  He closed the door behind them, locking it so he didn’t have to worry about any unwanted guests.

  She looked at him with the raise of an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  No, he had totally just walked into that one. That was stupid. He made a show of looking her up and down, assessing her, even though he knew that she was p
erfect. He had spent more than his fair share of time watching her curves as she walked, and the graceful way her body moved. By most standards, she might have been a little bit on the heavy side, but a person’s weight was ever-changing, so to base attraction on such a fickle thing was tasteless and shallow. All that really mattered was that she felt happy with the woman she was—there was nothing more attractive than confidence.

  He put down the shirt Mindy had given him and walked over to Shaye. They were safe here. At least, one of them was.

  A fire rippled up from deep in his belly as Shaye gave him a playful smile.

  “You know, in order for me to get a really good idea of what I think, I’m going to need to give you a closer inspection,” he said, putting his hands on her waist.

  She gave him a look of surprise, like she hadn’t been expecting him to play along. “The last time I checked, looking was done with your eyes not with your hands.” She stepped back, giving him a cheeky grin.

  “Then let’s pretend I’m blind,” he teased, reaching out for her again.

  She gave a belly laugh, and looked down at his extended hands before stepping into his grasp. “I think it’s only fair if I get to give you a good once-over, as well,” she said in a soft voice, as she ran her hands down the muscles of his chest.

  He had wanted to get in a good and sweaty workout, but he hadn’t been expecting anything like this—not even in his wildest dreams.

  She traced her finger down the line of his shirt. “I hear the best kind of workouts are the ones that you do without a shirt,” she said in a serious-sounding voice.

  “Is that right?” he asked, but the last thing he wanted to do was argue.

  His breath caught in his throat as her fingers drifted over his naked skin, tracing the fine hairs on his chest and his nipples. He had wanted her to touch him like this since...well, forever.