Chapter 9 #2
One more question. Gabby asked, “Why do you need a vacation so badly?”
“I’ll answer this, and then I’m done,” Sheridan said.
Gabby nodded her assent.
“I lost a client recently. It was hard on me.”
“I’m so sorry. Who was it?” Gabby asked.
“I said no more questions.” She turned and went back into her cottage, done with Gabby and Markus forever.
Back at the honeymoon cottage, they opened the dead drop bag.
It was filled with countersurveillance measures, communication devices, cell phones for them to use only for official purposes, and a couple of sidearms. Inner-G looked like the last place you’d need a gun, especially now that she knew the mission was about a grand gesture gone wrong.
When you are so bad at gift giving, the EOD gets involved—that was epic.
“That didn’t go to plan, did it?” Gabby said, setting her gun back in the bag.
“That was not what I expected,” he said. “We can talk it over once I clean up.” Clean up: aka sweep for bugs.
“I’ll clean up too,” she said. Gabby meant a shower.
Washing away travel grime was always refreshing, but Inner-G made it luxurious. The bathroom was filled with products from Jasmine’s ironically named brand, Inner Beauty. The shampoo, and conditioner, and body wash, and lotion—everything smelled expensive.
In a robe that felt like a wearable cloud, her hair wrapped in some kind of fancy hair towel, and wearing personalized fuzzy slippers, Gabby lay down on the bed in a state that wasn’t quite sleeping but wasn’t quite awake.
Maybe Sheridan was right. A few days of this might be just what she needed.
In her blissed-out haze, she let herself drift off to sleep until she awoke with a start at the feel of the weight of a body on the bed next to her.
“I cleared the room,” he said. “We’re good.”
“Did you find anything?”
He shook his head. “Nada.”
“I must have fallen asleep.” She propped herself up against some pillows.
With a laugh, he said, “Oh, you did.”
“Was I snoring?” She covered her mouth. “Damn it.”
“It was cute.”
“Really?”
A charged silence filled the air between them.
They were sitting on the most romantic bed she’d ever seen in real life.
Fluffy, scattered with rose petals, spritzed with perfume, and surrounded by gauzy curtains.
It was their own little world. She was naked under her robe.
One loose knot from nudity. They were on vacation in the Azores.
“So…” she said in a voice that didn’t even sound like her own, “we’re in the honeymoon suite. ”
Markus’s professional facade cracked and he broke into a big, dopey, lopsided smile.
The nightstand had several bottles of lotions and oils, and something that she was pretty sure was artisanal lube. If she opened a drawer, there was probably more. The honeymoon suite was even sexier than the room Justin had designed, which was saying something.
With Markus this close, she wasn’t sure where to look. All her thoughts were turning dirty, and her heartbeat was beginning to tick up. She tried to blink away every nasty thought that was crossing her mind, but it must have been written on her face.
Following her thoughts, Markus’s gaze drifted to the nightstand. “They thought of everything, didn’t they?”
There was no way to get through this professionally. Work wives was no boundary at all if this was their office. The EOD was pushing them off the cliff into romance.
He slid a little closer and rested his hand on her thigh, just below the hem of the robe. Her whole being focused on the warm press of his hand. She desperately wanted to lean in, to encourage him to hike that robe up. It would be a shame if someone didn’t appreciate all that waxing.
Her focus blurred, and she let her head fall back. She was thirty-eight years old, a grown woman. Screw all her reasons for not wanting to jump into a relationship. What were they even? Her kids? They weren’t here. It was time for Gabby to have some fun. It was her turn, damn it.
She inched closer. As she did, the robe hiked up higher, dangerously high.
His voice lower than normal, Markus rasped, “Don’t tease me, Gabs.” He lifted his hand from her thigh.
Before she had a chance to say anything, he took a deep breath and collected himself. “My bad. I’m respecting the boundaries you set. You were right.”
Why in the hell had she set a boundary, again?
When he got up and walked away, she practically groaned in frustration. “Please, come back.”
The look Markus gave her was pure inner turmoil.
“Markus,” Gabby pointed out logically, “there’s only one bed.” She said it with conviction, like it was a prophecy. The universe had spoken.
With a chuckle, he said, “Um, yeah. But you were right. I can take the couch.”
“That’s thoughtful,” she said, “But Markus—” Gabby looked up, desperate for another touch. “There’s only one bed, and the psychic said—”
“Gabby, did it occur to you that Sheridan might be in on it?”
Gabby didn’t think so. If she didn’t believe in psychic powers before, she did now.