CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Angela had only thought this long day had ended, but when she heard the knock on her door, she knew Sawyer would be standing on the other side. It didn’t take him long to knock a second time. Angela touched the mud mask caked on her cheeks. It had already hardened. Sawyer’s knocking would wake half the floor if she made him wait for her to wash it off.
She grabbed the silk robe off her bed, secured the sash around her waist, and peered through the peephole. Fully dressed, he had donned a shirt since the last time she’d seen him, but that didn’t make him look any happier.
“What do you want?” she called without letting him in, though since the mud mask had dried her face in place, her question sounded more like hut-da-oo-wunt .
He scowled toward the peephole. “We’ve gotta talk shop.”
Wanting to talk shop was a slight change in his attitude. She cracked the door and peered out, her greenish face hidden in the shadows of her dark entryway.
“If we’re doing this”—he stepped close as though she were about to open the door—“you have to know how to fire a gun.”
She would’ve made a face if she could have. “I can fire a gun.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
Angela sighed and then let him in. “Come in.”
“ What? ” He strode inside and followed her down the short hallway to her sitting area. “Why do you sound drunk?”
After the day she’d had, who would blame her for having a glass or two of wine? Angela turned on her heel and smiled. The face mask cracked on her cheeks.
Sawyer jumped then caught himself. “What’s the matter with your face?”
“I wasn’t expecting company.” Now that she’d cracked the mask, Angela didn’t sound like cotton balls were shoved in her mouth. At least, not as much as before.
“I guess not.”
She waved for him to have a seat. “Give me a minute.”
“That looks like it will take an hour with a jackhammer.”
Sometimes, the aloof way the guys on Titan’s team acted made her wonder if they’d ever spent time with women outside their office walls. Obviously, the married ones had, and she understood that Sawyer had dated. Maybe they’d never reached the level of face-mask seriousness.
Had Paul ever seen her in a face mask? Had he ever done anything with her that wasn’t to facilitate his now-apparent end goal? Probably not…
The television turned on as Sawyer made himself comfortable. She had no doubt that tonight he was there for business; tonight would include no long, swaying hugs by the window. He wanted to talk shop. She would talk shop. Operations were a whole new ball game. Hence Sawyer’s gun-shooting concerns. She decided to rush through the mask removal process.
Face scrubbed clean, she returned to the living room. A soccer game was on the television, but it didn’t hold his attention. He was studying his phone when she padded back in. “Who’s playing?”
He tossed the phone and turned off the game. “No idea.”
Oh, man. Sawyer’s stress level was palpable. “I’ve fired a gun before.”
His eyebrows rose. “Like a water gun?”
“Oh, don’t be an ass.”
Quiet laughter rumbled in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t as tense as she thought. “Earlier tonight,” he said. “I realized there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
Angela had just been thinking the same thing. “You know me better than I know you.” She held up a finger. “You know where I work. How awesome I am at my job.”
Sawyer laughed again, this time a little louder.
“You know my family,” she continued, “my ex, the major trauma that I’ve survived, the greatest hits of my most embarrassing life moments.” This time, she raised an eyebrow. “Pretty major stuff.”
“True,” he agreed. “Yet, I don’t know if your weapons experience is more backyard games or tactical preparation.”
“Tactical preparation? Yeah, no, not that.”
“So, water guns?”
“Those water cannons that you use to win prizes at a carnival? I’ve won the biggest stuffed animals you’ve ever seen.”
The corners of his mouth curved upward. “So you’re saying you’re good?”
Angela sat on her yellow couch and tucked her feet underneath her. “Are you still upset with me?”
“I was never upset with you.”
She side-eyed him. “I call bullshit.”
“More like concerned.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was caught off guard. But I’ve had time to process.”
“What’s there to process?”
“You, Angela. You know jobs can go from ordinary to bat shit in the blink of an eye. I don’t want to see that happen when you’re involved.”
“Why?”
“Because…” He twisted his lips. “The idea of you walking into danger? That makes me uncomfortable.”
“Not doing something makes me more than uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, I’ve gathered that.” He stretched, acting as though he were buying time to gather his thoughts. “We debated. I heard the pros and cons, and now I’m on Team Let’s Do This.”
“Total buy-in?”
“Complete.” He nodded. “But we should prepare for the unexpected.”
“I have shot a gun before, all right? A water gun and a handgun, but not in a long time,” she admitted.
“All right, that’s good.”
“I’ve never been trained, but my dad showed me more than once when visiting the Poconos.”
Sawyer crossed his arms and nodded, taking all the information in. “I never hear about your dad.”
She laughed. “Me either. He’s a good guy. Busy. Very busy.”
“Busier than your mom?”
Angela considered. “Equally busy.” She shrugged. That lifestyle wasn’t one most could imagine. “My parents sort of live their own lives.”
“Was that a good thing or bad?”
She shrugged again. “It’s the only thing I know.”
He sat next to her on the couch. She liked him close. The conversation didn’t feel like an interrogation when they were side by side.
“What about your parents?” she asked.
The question seemed to catch him off guard again. He considered for a moment. “They’re very normal.”
“What does that mean? Happy? Not happy?”
An honest smile touched his lips and met his blue eyes. “Very happy. Good parents. Good role models. I had a very normal upbringing, and they wanted me to have a happy, normal life. It’s something that comes up when I visit—” The light in his expression faltered, and he forced a smile. “They would have been thrilled if I was settled down near them. But that’s not the path life gave me.”
“They think you’re married to the job?”
Sawyer pressed his lips together. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and pretended to laugh. “Married to the job. I’ll never be like Hagan, Chance, or Liam. It’ll just be Camden and me, single until the end of days.”
She’d never seen Sawyer fake a smile and force laughter. He wasn’t all that good at it. “If I get dressed, do you want to go to the range and practice?”
According to the guys, the shooting facilities were one of the best parts of Jared Westin’s hotel headquarters. That wasn’t an amenity that she enjoyed. Lap pool and saunas? Check. World-class dining? Check. Training facilities for ACES? Nothing but the best. She used Titan’s gym. Sometimes, she’d watch their tactical training. But she’d never had a reason to go to the gun range. Until tonight.
“Are you up for it after your spa night?” he asked. “Or do you have some kind of lotion routine that will take hours?”
She laughed. “So you do know a thing or two about the secret lives of women?”
“Ha.” Awkwardly, he checked his phone and stood up. “You know what? I didn’t realize how late it was. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were up to.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have a lotion routine.” Shooting guns hadn’t been how she envisioned spending the end of the night, but she didn’t want Sawyer to leave.
He rechecked the time. “It’s late.”
Late nights were never a bother before. If she wanted to run errands at night, Sawyer had accompanied her. Arbitrary timelines never confined their social schedules. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“Nah, I’m just exhausted.” He pushed off the couch and headed for the door. “Good night.”
“Sawyer?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Really, Ange. I shouldn’t have shoved my way into—”
“You didn’t. I let you in.”
“And now you can let me out.” He turned around but still retreated another step. “I’m tired. That’s all. It’s been a roller coaster of a day, and it just hit me like a Mack truck.”
She didn’t believe him. “I may be a newbie in the field, but even I know we need to communicate well.”
“We do, Angela,” he said, taking another step back, “and everything’s fine.”
Her lips flattened. “That’s a load of BS, my friend.”
His head lolled back as though it were too heavy to hold up. Sawyer stared at the ceiling for a long minute. “I thought of something that has nothing to do with you or this job.” He crossed a hand over his heart. “I swear.”
Then, with a reminder to deadbolt her door, he was gone.
Angela replayed the conversation in her mind and didn’t see where she’d gone wrong. She had a busy, abnormal family. He had a happy one. She’d worn a mud mask. He and Camden were perpetual bachelors.
Angela deadbolted the door and dragged herself toward her bedroom. She could go to the gun range and practice. That would show Sawyer she meant business, that he could take her seriously. But the range held no interest now that he wouldn’t be by her side. Her bed was calling.
She cinched the robe sash tighter and crawled under the covers. The bedroom was her sanctuary. Jared had let her work with an interior designer to furnish her apartment. After living on a cot in a fenced-in cage in a warehouse for the better part of her twenties, she’d painstakingly chosen bright colors, luxurious fabrics, and plants that she couldn’t kill.
But, as she forced her eyes closed, the carefully appointed room felt lonely. Abandoned. Sawyer had left disingenuously, and she didn’t know why.