by Tara Brown
He lifted his head, giving me a weird look as I got closer.
“Mommy, did you run already?” Jules asked in her cute tone, but I just shook my head. My eyes still stuck on him. I swallowed hard, stopping just short of him. “Can we talk?”
He grabbed Jules and the swing as they swung back to him, nodding and looking worried. “Jules, go see if Grandma is making the brownies or if your mom has ruined them.” He slowly lowered her to the dirt. She jumped off and ran for the house with Luce in tow. She offered a wave as she made her way across the grass.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah.” I bit my lip. “I’m an idiot.”
“Well, I know that but what’s wrong?”
It was impossible to say it so I stared, mouth agape.
“Evie?” He looked even cuter when he was impatient.
“I like you.”
He laughed, giving me a strange look. “What?”
Not sure how to fix the thing I’d said, I decided to roll with the lame high school comment, surely I could be more eloquent than that. “I like the way you are with my kids and me and my family.” Nope, apparently not.
He turned his head slightly, offering a very confused face. “What?” he repeated.
“I like you and the way you smell and the way you feel and how I feel when I’m with you. I feel safe.” It was just getting worse and worse. I clamped my mouth shut.
Shit.
He started to laugh. “I like you too.”
“No, I like you like you.” What did that even MEAN?
His cheeks flushed. “I like you like you too.”
I gave in to the idiocy I was clearly overcome with and nodded. “No. I want us to be together again.”
He lifted one side of his mouth and nodded. “I want that too.”
Neither of us moved like we had contemplated anything of a next move. We stood perfectly still, staring at each other.
“Okay. Good to know.” I turned and walked back to the house. Was he playing a game and was I suddenly fourteen?
I walked inside and closed the door, sort of shocked he hadn’t walked after me and even more shocked he hadn’t told me to go fuck myself with the head games I had played.
Neither of us clearly had a notion of what to do. Or maybe neither of us wanted to make the first move.
Mitch gave me a weird look from the pan of brownies he was scooping batter into. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. You made the brownies?” I walked closer, dipping my finger in the batter and taking a taste. I winced, making the same face he was. We both knew the batter was horrid until the brownies had cooked and cooled. It didn't taste right until the intense chickpea flavor got cooked out.
“Where’s Coop?” Mitch asked, giving the door a look. He was taller than I was now, closer to five foot six.
I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, forcing a tween hug, which always made you feel a little bit like a pervert.
“Mom!” he moaned but I didn't relent. Jules came running in and wrapped herself around me, always the one willing to have a hug.
“I love you guys.”
Mitch groaned but Jules nodded. “Love you too.” She lifted her face and grinned. “Love you, Mitchy.”
He growled but I pinched him so he didn't say his usual mean retort.
Mom came in smiling. “Finish those brownies, Mitchy.”
He gave her a look too. “Grandma, no one calls me that anymore.”
“We all do.” She laughed.
He stood up, proud of his height. “I’m taller than you all, so I get to decide. No more Mitchy.”
Mom paused and then shook her head. “Doesn't work for me.”
I grinned at him, matching Jules’ look.
“I got your back, Mitch,” Coop spoke from behind me. I jumped and turned, shocked to see him inside and eavesdropping. His eyes never left mine as he spoke, “No boy wants to be called anything but his name. Pet names are for girls.” He darted his stare to Mitch and offered him a wink.
I cleared my throat and walked out of the room, dragging Jules with me. “Time to practice your words for spelling.”
She moaned like Mitch had. The last two months had been remarkably like my old life. We had fit into a pattern and I was enjoying the normalcy of it all. If only I could find a way to fix things with Coop.
Chapter Ten
That darned arms dealer
“Evie?”
I blinked and lifted my gaze from the pillow, blinking again and again until my vision cleared.
“Evie?”
There was no one in the room with me, not anyone I could see. I reached for the light, flicking it on but again there was no one.
The door to my bedroom opened, making me jump. Coop poked his head in, giving me a grin. “Sleeping?”
“No.” I shook my head, lying for no reason at all and not convincingly.
“I heard you snoring.”
“I don't snore.”
He laughed. “Or poo?”
“You know me better than that. I love pooing.” I scoffed and sat up, realizing I was sleeping naked when his eyes lowered to my bare breasts. I gasped and tugged the sheets up. “What do you want?”
He stepped in and closed the door, leaning his back against it. “I think that's fairly obvious.”
“You want a bootie call?” I was lost.
“No.” He shook his head, walking to the bed and smiling in a way that made me wish I’d showered before bed. “I want to talk about earlier.”
I yawned and lay back, covering myself even more. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
“No. I can’t sleep. I’m lying down there thinking nonstop. I need you to tell me what you meant.”
I stretched and flicked the light off. “Just come and lie down. We can talk tomorrow.”
“You’re naked.”
“You’re almost a minor and I am a cougar; we should be fine.” I sniggered but he didn't laugh. He pulled off his clothes and climbed in, far too close. His warm body pressed up close to mine made me leery we would talk at all.
And I was right to be doubtful because he didn't talk. He sighed and moved his head back and forth, breaking the pillow in, and then lifted his hands up behind his head and closed his eyes. The moment he relaxed, I was wide awake, maybe because of the smell of him or the feel of him, or the fact that I’d not had sex in months.
In the moonlight I was stuck on the curves of his arm and face. I wanted to suck his lips and ride his—shit! Had he done this on purpose?
I rolled onto my back and let the blankets slip down a little, revealing a little nipple to the cool air in the room. I positioned my back so my breast stuck out. His breathing slowed and he started the deep breaths he always took right before falling asleep. He didn't notice which meant he was truly going to sleep. Maybe it also meant I was imagining things.
I rolled away from him, pulling the covers back up, and tried to ignore the fact that he was there or that my feelings were hurt. If I could have taken back the awkward confession from earlier I would have.
Eventually, I fell asleep, but it was restless and lacked the peace of sleeping alone.
When I woke I was crusty eyed and still exhausted. It was similar to waking next to James, or maybe just being married—going to bed annoyed or angry and then waking with what felt like a hang on. I didn't miss that.
The thing that wasn't like waking next to James was the face I saw when I opened my eyes. I blinked and realized he had been watching me sleep. I wiped my mouth and winced. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He offered a bit of a sly grin. “You were talking in your sleep. I think you actually woke yourself up.”
James had told me the same thing several times.
“What did I say?”
The grin grew. “That you love me.”
“I did not. What did I say?” I swatted him in the arm, right where he had been shot. The scar was something I normally avoided. I hated rememberin
g that day.
“You did.” His eyes widened and I knew he wasn't lying. He reached over and dragged me across the bed to him, pressing our bodies against each other. “You said that you loved me even though I was a bratty kid.”
The words sounded right. I sighed and shook my head. “I have to get up.” I pushed on his chest but it was pointless, he held me against him firmly. Making the mistake I always made with him, I glanced up into his steely blue eyes. That was always the end of me and the fight I could muster against him.
“You aren’t getting up.” He smiled wide. “Unless it’s to ride my co—”
“Whoa!” I pulled back, cutting him off. “Let’s not start the day with dirty talk.”
He lowered his face, feathering his lips against mine and then speaking softly, “Then let’s start it with make-up sex.” His tongue and lips pried my mouth open, sliding against me. The way he moved, it felt like he was tense, but I realized he was moving with purpose when he lifted himself and was lying overtop of me. He pulled me to him, wrapping himself around me and holding tight. It was slow and lingering, the way he touched and kissed. I wondered how he didn't have morning breath and tried not to think about mine.
His fingers dug in as he tilted his head and kissed my neck. His rigid cock pressed into my hip and I froze. “I can’t do this.”
He kissed my neck, nodding. “Yes, you can.”
“I actually can’t.” I winced and pushed him off me. He sighed, clearly more invested than I was. A slow and possibly mocking smile crept across my lips. “I have to have breakfast and coffee and water and perform my ablutions before I can do anything, in the morning.”
He wrinkled his nose. “What?”
“I have to have a—well, I won’t go to the bathroom if I orgasm in the morning.”
“I don't under—” Disgust crept across his face. “Oh.” He leaned back, obviously uncomfortable with the fact that I was a real girl—woman—human. “So, rain check?” He still looked put off.
“Sure.” I nodded, annoyed at the fact that he was bothered. I reached over and grabbed my cell phone and climbed from the bed. I needed coffee before I could even attempt to fix the disaster I was in the middle of creating. First the complete disaster of “I like you” in the yard and now this.
Ugh . . .
I hurried to my closet, hating that his eyes were on my bare ass. Why had I gone to bed naked?
When I got downstairs Fitz offered me a coffee and a grin. He knew something.
“Morning.” I snapped my eyes shut and moaned, stretching and taking the coffee, refusing to notice his amused face.
“Have a good sleep, Evie?”
I slowly blinked as a response, but he was too old to know it meant anything.
“Me either. Too warm in my room last night.” He shrugged. “Must be something in the air—spring and humidity maybe.” He winked and strolled to the table.
I sat across from him as Jules came in looking flustered. “I can’t find my lunch kit.”
“It’s on the clothesline outside. I washed it last night.” Fitz made a face. “There was spilled yogurt.”
“You washed my lunch box?” Jules scowled, looking like she might get upset. “That's weird, Uncle Fitz.” She walked past us both to retrieve it from the backyard.
“Yeah.” I sniggered.
“That child is Pigpen from Charlie Brown.” He rolled his eyes. “You know she doesn't plan to change her hockey socks when she’s older. Like athlete’s foot is some kind of luck.”
“I know.” I laughed as my phone rang. We both stopped and stared at it, wondering why it would ring in the house where all of the people who knew the number were. I didn't move fast enough so Fitz reached over and answered it for me, “Hello?” His eyes widened as he listened for a moment before pressing the screen and putting it on speakerphone as the voice stopped talking. I opened my mouth to speak but he lifted a finger.
“Dear Miss Scarlett, I am sorry to tell you the ship has not come in and the package you were seeking has been lost in Bribie. Mr. Butler wishes you to seek it Oxford style before the expiration of Boston.” The robotic man’s voice paused and repeated on a loop.
Fitz listened one more time and swallowed hard. “This is from Servario. There is someone named Bribie in Oxford he wants us to find.” He chuckled and gave me a look. “I mean he wants you to find.”
I bit my lip, not sure of the message or why we would go to Oxford. Bribie, Boston, and Oxford could all be something. “Bribie is a place, is it not?”
Fitz, obviously still deep in thought, gave me a quick nod. “Australia. An island. Very lovely.”
“Boston, an island in Australia, and Oxford—what do they have in common?”
“You have to read the code properly. Bribie, the obvious location is a false lead. He would never say the name of the place. In Bribie means there is a person with this name. Someone the Burrow will want. Perhaps an Australian from Bribie in Oxford. The location is Oxford. We know it’s a weapon as it could take out Boston. It could ruin a city. But Bribie is either the person making the weapon or where the person is from.”
“Great.” I sighed. “Why isn’t Servario going after this one? He brings the assets in and we kill the list and prevent anyone from finding the Burrow.”
“Something is wrong.” Fitz’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” Coop strolled in, grabbing himself a coffee.
“Servario just left us a message saying something weird. Coded.” I didn't even know how to explain it.
Fitz gave me a look of obvious annoyance as he relayed the message. “There is someone in Oxford, possibly an Australian or someone with the last name Bribie, who is making a weapon large enough to take out a city the size of Boston.”
Coop’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Yes. Exactly the response one should have.”
My mom sauntered into the kitchen, immediately pausing when she saw our faces. “What’s happened?”
“Weapon being created in Oxford; Servario wants us to retrieve it for the Burrow tomorrow.”
She sighed, relieved that it was something as small as international efforts to retrieve a weapon. “Oh. All right then. Fitz and I will watch the children while you lot get busy.”
“No.” Coop shook his head. “We don’t follow that arms dealer off half cocked. We need more than that.” He turned and walked from the kitchen.
My mother’s eyes followed him and then darted to me. “This is precisely why we don't shit where we eat, Evie.”
“What?” My jaw dropped.
“You have him conflicted. If he was the only one for you, he would already be warming the jet or booking flights. But he worries Gustavo has ulterior motives, as in seeing you, so he is skeptical that this information is true.”
“No.” I shook my head. “He worries because no one tells us the truth on anything and we are constantly going by guess and by golly.”
“No one can have all the information. It’s too vulnerable then. We have filled you in slowly on everything. Now you know all there really is to know. The Organization is seeking the weapons of the Burrow to launch a one world power. The Burrow is hiding everything that might possibly help out the Organization with that. And we are the middlemen, always walking the fine line between the two. It’s not rocket science, Evie. You are smarter than you act most times.” She walked from the kitchen with her coffee.
Fitz chuckled and opened the paper.
I sat there staring at my phone, a little baffled and a lot insulted.
Chapter Eleven
Z-Apoc
Jack lifted his gaze as I walked into the room in the basement that we had dedicated to the computers. He grinned. “I found Bribie. It’s a middle name. Janice Bribie Saunders. She’s an Australian who is finishing her post grad at Oxford in molecular sciences. She’s smart.” His eyes widened. “Really smart. Her intelligence makes mine look like yours.”
It took me a couple of seconds to realize he ha
d insulted me, but he had moved on by then.
“She isn't an activist or even political in any way. Very mellow. Surfs a lot. Loves the ocean, but even then, not to the point she would wipe out humanity. She seems like a normal girl. She’s thirty-one, been in college since she was sixteen. She even finished MIT nine years ago.”
“Holy shit.”
“Right!” Jack nodded. “I almost feel bad that she’s too smart for her own good.”
“We live in a bullshit world where everyone wants to take advantage,” Luce muttered from her desk.
I sat with a thud next to her. “Do you think this is something?”
“Hard to say.” Jack shrugged. “She has the brains to be dangerous, but her research doesn't suggest anything beyond the usual. Her thesis and studies are fascinating, but I can’t say world threat. It’s mostly cancer research.” He looked worried. “I can’t assume that, when it means she will be locked away at the shrine of doom.”
It made sense. We were essentially offering her a life sentence. It was too much power to be saddled with.
Luce glanced at me, lowering her voice, “I think the thing we need to consider is how often is Servario wrong?”
Her sentence gave me chills. He was never wrong. Not as far as we had seen anyway. He seemed to know things it was impossible to know.
“Yeah, and what happens if we say she’s cool and then Boston disappears off the face of the earth?” Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Coop came in on the phone, just hanging up. He lifted his gaze to me, revealing a strange look. “My mom says hi.”
“Oh.” I shrank back before I realized I had done it. “Tell her hi next time.”
“I will.” He ignored my obvious discomfort and glanced at Jack. “What have you found?”
“Nothing threatening.”
Coop’s strange expression lifted and he looked vindicated. “I suspected. The Burrow can’t just expect us to abduct every scientist who might come across as a little too smart. This is ridiculous and technically no different than the Nazis.”