Chapter 10 - Brenna
brENNA
Iwoke with Mason’s arm wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back, and our legs tangled together like we’d been sleeping this way for years instead of hours.
This time, when his arm tightened around me as I stirred, I didn’t freeze or wonder what it meant.
After last night—after the promises we’d made, the words we’d finally said—I knew exactly what this was.
“Stop thinking about getting up,” he mumbled against my shoulder, where he pressed a kiss. “It’s too early.”
“Kodiak and Emma are coming at zero nine hundred.”
I felt him smile against my skin. “That’s three hours from now. I can think of several productive ways to spend that time.”
“Productive?” I turned in his arms to face him, unable to stop my own smile at the heat in his eyes. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Would you prefer ‘continuing our in-depth cover story development’? Or maybe ‘advanced marital simulation exercises’?” His hand traced lazy patterns on my hip. “I’m flexible on terminology.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously crazy about you.”
“Yeah? So when, exactly, did this about-face occur? Not that I’m complaining. More, I’m curious.”
“Could be when you walked into that bar our first night here, looking like every fantasy I’ve ever had—”
I kissed him to shut him up, but also because I could, and it was every fantasy I’d ever had come true too.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he grinned. “See? Productive. We’re excellent at productivity.”
I reached for my cell that sat on the bedside table and reread Kodiak’s text from last night to confirm he really would be here in three hours.
Yacht surveillance complete. Nothing urgent. Briefing at 0900.
We’d both seen it when it came in around midnight, but had been too wrapped up in each other to do more than acknowledge it before returning to more pressing matters.
“Nothing urgent could still mean something important,” I said, though I made no move to get up.
“Everything about this case is important. But right now, the only thing I care about is that we have”—he checked his watch—“one hundred and sixty-five minutes before we have to be professional again.”
“We have to shower, get dressed, make breakfast—”
“One hundred minutes,” he negotiated, his hand sliding up my thigh. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Mason—”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“My name. You called me Atticus for years. Then last night, you called me Mason about seventeen times, and I’m not going to lie, it did things to me.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “We really should get ready—”
He rolled me beneath him, his expression shifting from playful to intense. “Brenna. My brilliant, beautiful, stubborn Bug. We just changed everything between us. We made promises. Real ones. And now, you want to talk about schedules?”
No. I didn’t. He was right.
“Sore?” he asked, cupping my pussy.
“A little,” I admitted. “You’re, um…”
His eyes twinkled. “You must finish that sentence.”
“You’ve never struck me as the kind of man who needs his ego elevated.”
“Elevated?” He looked under the sheet. “Yep. One hundred percent elevated. Now, finish the sentence.”
“Big.”
“That’s it? Big?”
I smiled and buried my face in his shoulder. “What do you want me to say? That you’re bigger than any man I’ve ever been with?”
“Uh, definitely not that. In fact, if we could just pretend you hadn’t been with anyone before me, I’d be good with it.”
I leaned away far enough to look into his eyes. “Really? Again, I didn’t expect you to be that guy. I mean, I know about the women you’ve been with.”
He cupped my cheek. “And I’d bet that the last thing you want to actually think about is any other woman I’ve been with.”
I kissed him. “You’re right. Fair point, well made.”
“Now, let’s see what we can do that won’t make you more sore.”
My fingers weaved in Mason’s hair as he insisted I orgasm at least twice—and frankly, I lost count—before he’d allow me to get out of bed.
“I’m nervous,” I admitted while we showered together.
“About the meeting with Kodiak and Emma?”
“About us. About how we navigate this. The mission, Morrison—it’s all still there. But now, there’s also us, and I don’t know how to be both your partner in this investigation and your…whatever I am now.”
“Everything,” he said simply, brushing the hair from my face with a tenderness that made my chest tight. “You’re my everything. My partner, my future, the woman I want to wake up next to every morning. I thought I made that clear last night. Multiple times. In various creative ways.”
“You did. I just—”
“Need me to show you again?” His lips found that spot below my ear that made me shiver. “Because I’m happy to provide regular reminders.”
“So, what do I call you? I mean, won’t it be weird if I suddenly call you Mason in briefings?”
“To be honest, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you did.
If you’re worried about it, then call me Atticus like you have been.
When we’re alone, and particularly when your naked body is pressed against mine, I’ll remind you that Mason is the name I want to hear from your lips.
” He knelt in front of me and spread my legs. “Now, let’s practice.”
“God, Mason,” I cried out, clinging to him as he made me come again.
An hour later, showered and dressed and trying to look like professional operatives instead of newly in love idiots, we were in the kitchen when my phone rang. Blocked number.
“Bronwyn Nolan,” I answered on speaker.
“Mrs. Nolan, this is Patricia calling for Mr. Morrison. First, he wanted me to make sure everything was okay. We missed you at the event last night.”
“Our apologies. I came down with a bout of food poisoning yesterday afternoon. I’m feeling much better today, though.”
“That’s terrible, and I’m happy to hear you’ve recovered. Mr. Morrison would like to invite you and your husband to dinner this evening, if you’re feeling up to it.”
“We’d be delighted.”
“Wonderful. Nineteen hundred hours at Maison Blanc in Atherton. Mr. Morrison asked me to mention that Mr. Liu and Mr. Castellano are eager to meet you both.”
“Actually,” I said, “we have friends in town who were at the yacht party last night—Jordan and Sarah Mitchell? They mentioned meeting Mr. Morrison. Would it be possible for them to join us? They’re also in the defense technology space.”
“Let me check with Mr. Morrison.” I heard muffled conversation in the background. “Mr. Morrison says he’d be delighted to have the Mitchells join you. He enjoyed speaking with them last night.”
“Wonderful. Thanks so much.”
After I ended the call, Atticus whistled low. “Quick thinking on bringing the Mitchells.”
“Morrison already met them. Makes it more natural.”
The doorbell rang at exactly zero nine hundred. Kodiak and Emma stood there, Kodiak with his gear bag and Emma holding a box of pastries.
“Figured you might not have had time for a proper breakfast,” Emma said with a knowing smile that suggested she knew exactly why we might have been too busy to cook.
“Thanks,” Atticus said, taking the box and motioning them inside, then opening it after setting it on the counter. “Damn, these look good.”
“They’re from that bakery near our hotel,” Emma said with a slight eye roll. “The Four Seasons. We’re sharing a suite to maintain the Mitchell cover.”
“Separate sleeping areas,” Kodiak added quickly.
“Before we get into the yacht party,” I said, “Morrison’s office just called. All four of us are invited to dinner tonight at Maison Blanc in Atherton. Seven o’clock. All three principals will be there.”
“Good,” Emma said. “That means they’re interested.”
Kodiak set up his tablet while Emma took a seat at the counter. “Let’s review what happened at the yacht party first, then we’ll prepare for tonight.”
He connected his tablet to our monitor. “Emma and I have a lot to share from last night. The footage from the yacht shows how Morrison and his buddies are running their sophisticated operation.”
The first video was of the yacht’s main deck, crowded with Bay Area’s tech elite. Morrison, Liu, and Castellano were easy to spot, each holding court in different areas.
“Watch how they work,” Kodiak said. “It’s coordinated. They each have a specific role.”
Morrison handled the executives and their wives with broad gestures and easy laughter. Liu engaged the technical people in intense, quiet conversations. Castellano worked the money people, all champagne toasts and enthusiasm.
“They’re dividing the targets by expertise,” Atticus observed.
“Exactly. And they’re good at it. Very practiced.”
“Morrison approached us separately at first,” Emma added. “Testing our knowledge and our connections.”
“The Mitchell cover held perfectly,” Kodiak said. “They were particularly interested in our supposed DoD contracts.”
“Shall we engage K19 now?” I asked.
“Good a time as any,” Kodiak responded.
I opened my laptop and initiated the videoconference. The screen split into multiple windows—Admiral, Alice, Tank, and Dragon.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said. “Kodiak and Emma just briefed us on what they observed at the yacht party last night.”
I quickly summarized their findings—Morrison, Liu, and Castellano worked as a coordinated team, and divided targets by expertise.
“What’s your analysis?” I asked, looking between Alice and Admiral.
“It matches what we’re seeing,” said Alice, pulling up data. “There’s been an increased probing of defense contractor systems. Very targeted, very specific.”
“Any idea what they’re after?” I asked.
“Classified naval systems that are about to become much harder to access,” she continued.
“How much harder?” I asked.
“Think vault door versus screen door,” Admiral clarified. “Whatever they’re planning, they need to move now.”
Tank loaded the financial data. “We’re also tracking unusual money movement. Large sums being aggregated through channels that look almost legitimate.”
“Emma,” I said. “What’s your read on the financial patterns, based on what you saw last night?”