Chapter Twelve #2
His smile was wide and open, sending another zing of concern through her that she was going to damage this gentle side of Kieran.
Her fingers loosened their grip, but then she tightened them again, yanking him toward her for one more press of her lips against his—just for a blissful second.
She knew if she didn’t pull away now, she’d be latched on to him for the rest of the night, so she forced herself to release him.
“You’re ridiculously addictive,” she said, opening her door, hoping the chilly mountain air would return some common sense to her brain. Instead, it just made her want to cuddle up to his warm body again. “It’s annoying.”
His soft laugh sent a fizz of attraction through her.
“Not helping.” With a huff, she jumped out of the pickup.
He was grinning at her, not at all bothered by her accusation. “Good night, Charlie.”
“Night, Kiki.”
Even the nickname couldn’t make him lose his smile completely, although he drew his eyebrows together in a mock scowl. The combination of soft and grumpy made him even more irresistible, and she groaned as she slammed the truck door.
She was in so much trouble.
***
“These people are so dull.” Lou heaved a dramatic sigh and leaned back in her chair.
Charlie couldn’t argue with that. “Welcome to Stakeouts and Surveillance 101. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time it’s eye-crossingly boring.”
Fifi made a sound of agreement from her spot on the bed, where she and Bennett were cuddled together.
They’d offered up their honeymoon suite for a communications center, since the coffee shop wasn’t an option, and half of the murder club was busy.
Only Lou, Rory, and—for some random reason—Ian had joined Fifi, Charlie, and Bennett to spy electronically on the militia compound.
“Welcome to the exciting world of bounty hunting.”
“I’d say I’ll stick to barista-ing, but that’s gotten a little too exciting lately. Plus, you know, I’m out of a job.” Lou kicked her socked feet up and placed them on Rory’s lap. Rory looked down at the feet and then at Lou’s face, her expression baffled.
“You’re supposed to massage them,” Lou said helpfully. Rory gave one of the feet now living in her lap a tentative poke with one finger, making Charlie laugh.
Ian, Rory’s objectively gorgeous husband, tossed a balled-up scrap of paper at Lou’s head. “Quit harassing my wife. If she massages anyone’s feet, they should be mine.”
“Ow,” Lou said when the tiny ball bounced off her head.
Ian rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. “There’s no way that hurt.”
“Why are you here, anyway?” Lou asked, glancing at her cell phone. “Didn’t you say you have to get to work? You’d better go put out some fires.” She snorted. “Literal fires.”
“I’m going.” Ian leaned over to press a kiss to Rory’s temple, making her smile even as she kept her eyes focused on the laptop screen showing the militia compound’s two video feeds. “Just wanted to make sure Rory was comfortable before I left.”
It was Rory’s turn to snort. “He wanted coffee.”
Ian grinned around his cup, not denying it in the least.
“That reminds me,” Charlie said as she jumped off her perch on the table. Pouring coffee into a paper cup, she added creamer and sugar.
“Who’s that for?” Ian asked, because of course he did. He was a firefighter, after all, and they were all incredibly nosy.
“Why can’t it be for me?” she asked rather than answer him. She was not a blusher, but for some reason, the back of her neck felt hot.
As if he could smell gossip, Ian’s eyes lit up. “Because it’s definitely not. Who’re you hoarding coffee for, Ms. Tough Bounty Hunter? Someone you have a crush on, maybe?”
“Mind your business.” Now the strange, prickling heat was spreading to her face. Despite that, she couldn’t hold back a smile.
“Aha!” Ian crowed. “There is someone. Who is it? You can tell me. I’ll keep your dirty, dirty secret.”
Charlie slanted a look at Rory, who gave a tiny shake of her head.
Ian must’ve caught it, because he clutched at his chest with his free, non-coffee-holding hand. “How could you betray me like that? My own wife!”
“You’d keep an important secret,” Rory said, not looking at all disturbed by Ian’s dramatics. “But something like this? The entire fire department will know by noon who Charlie’s dating.”
Still grumbling—although Charlie noticed that he didn’t deny it—Ian leaned down again, this time to teasingly bite at Rory’s neck, making her laugh.
Although Rory’s uncharacteristic giggles were almost unbearably adorable, Charlie was distracted by a knock on the door of the suite.
She hurried over, completely losing any control she’d had over her sappy grin.
“I have a feeling I’m going to find out anyway,” Ian said quietly to Rory, but Charlie ignored him.
The firefighters could talk all they wanted.
She had no problem with the entire world knowing that she and Kieran were a thing.
Kind of a thing? A potential thing? Shaking off her mental attempt to define what they were starting, she checked the peephole and then yanked open the door.
“Hi.” That was all she managed to say, since most of her brain was occupied by just staring at him, taking in the huge, cranky hotness that made up Kieran Sullivan Byrne.
He lifted his chin in response to her greeting as his gaze ran over her like a warm, rough hand, making her skin feel all buzzy. She wondered if he was having the same issue, if just the sight of her had affected his ability to find and say words. The thought was rather delicious.
“Oh, it’s Byrne.” Ian’s voice had gone a bit flat, the teasing note disappearing.
Kieran flicked a look over her shoulder, giving Ian the slightest of nods before refocusing on Charlie.
The interruption brought her out of her Kieran-induced fog, and she held out the coffee she’d just poured. “Here. Saved you one. I know this is like liquid gold around here now.”
He glanced down at the coffee and one of those rare, authentic smiles touched his mouth.
It was impossible not to grin back at him as he took the cup from her, allowing his fingers to brush along hers in the process.
“Thanks.” His voice had turned husky, and the rough sound made her shiver in delight.
“Come in.” Stepping back, she swept her arm out to the side. “We’re watching the fascinating video feed from the compound.”
His gaze shot to the laptop as he stepped into the room. “Yeah? Anything useful?”
“No.” She closed the door behind him. “I was being sarcastic. It is not at all fascinating. As Lou said, the Freedom Survivors are boring.” She gave Ian an irritated look. “Knock it off.”
Everyone else in the room looked at Charlie in surprise, except for Ian, who maintained his poker face as he returned her glare with an icy one of his own. “I have my reasons.”
“Stupid ones.” Resisting the urge to stand in front of Kieran to protect him from Ian’s misplaced distrust, Charlie boosted herself up on the table where she’d been sitting earlier. “He’s not responsible for something his dad did.”
“She’s right,” Rory said before Ian could respond, and he jerked his head around to stare at her. “We can’t stop our parents if they go off the rails. You of all people should understand that.”
His mouth tightened as the silence in the room stretched with tension, but then Ian let out an audible breath. “You’re right.” Turning back to Kieran, he pulled his shoulders back as if bracing for an uncomfortable task. “Sorry, Byrne.”
Kieran gave a grunt, his scowl almost hiding how uncomfortable he felt.
Charlie could see it in the tiny muscle jumping in his jaw and the way he shot a quick, almost entreating look at her.
She couldn’t resist the appeal, so she launched into speech, grabbing at the first topic of conversation that came to mind.
“While we watch the very boring militia dudes go about their very boring day, we should probably talk about Mom.”
Although Fifi groaned, she said, “Yeah, you’re right. Clock’s ticking. I’m surprised she hasn’t shown up yet, honestly. Maybe she doesn’t need the key after all.”
A familiar figure running through Rory’s woods flashed in her recent memory, and Charlie frowned. “Maybe she is here. We still don’t know who the sixth treasure hunter is.”
Fifi’s groan was even louder this time as she tipped her head back. “Of course that’s Mom.”
It did make an annoying amount of sense. “So she needs the key, after all.”
“Be ready for her to break into our hotel rooms.”
“Pretty sure she already did that last night.” Even though she’d been exhausted as well as distracted by the Kieran-shaped cloud she’d been floating on, she’d had an uneasy feeling when she’d entered her room the night before—enough so that she did a complete search of the space before she could even think about going to bed.
Lou made appropriately horrified noises as Fifi sat up straight, eyes lit with outrage. “Did she find it?”
Charlie fished the key out of her zipped pocket and held it up so her sister could see it. “Duh, of course not. I’m keeping it on me. She’ll have to resort to full-on robbery to get her crime-ing hands on this.”
“She’ll try it,” Fifi warned.
“I know.” An old and bitter pang of sadness struck Charlie, surprising her.
She hadn’t thought her mom had the ability to disappoint her anymore.
One of the militia members on the screen crossed over to plop down on the couch, and Charlie watched his movements, using the time to rewrap her emotions in some muffling blankets.
Once she was pleasantly numb again, she looked away from the screen.
“I have about fifty decoy keys on me, but we still need to find the lock before she gets ahold of this key. She’s ditched us too many times for us to trust that we’ll be able to tail her. ”