SEVEN #2
She lay in the dark for at least twenty minutes, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Reid’s tongue doing that thing before she gave up on trying to sleep.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she switched on the bedside lamp—also sixties retro—and slipped on a hoodie. She’d skipped dinner in order to avoid Reid and her stomach was not happy with her life choices.
When she slipped out of her room, she checked the tunnel for Reid, relieved when she didn’t see him. Then she set off for the kitchen. A snack would help her sleep. If it had sugar in it, all the better.
Again, all this would be easier in her own apartment. There she could walk into her cozy cottage-style kitchen and make a microwave mug cake. It was unlikely this kitchen had the ingredients she needed to throw one together. What did a military base have in stock?
Beef. Plenty of beef.
And potato chips.
Her stomach growled, forcing her to move faster, her socked feet silent on the concrete floor. The doorway glowed with light, and she slowed her steps, listening for voices.
When she heard nothing, she chanced a peek inside. The kitchen was not empty. Jolie and Stina were there, sitting at the counter with mugs of tea between them.
Caryssa blinked at the coziness of the setting. The common room had surprised her too, but the low light over the stove made this space feel almost domestic, worlds away from the secret military compound surrounding it.
The women were talking in quiet voices, and not wanting to interrupt them, Caryssa started to back out.
Both sets of eyes snapped to her.
“No, stay.” Stina waved at an empty seat.
Jolie offered a warm smile that under any other circumstances, she might take as genuine. But after their last encounter, she wasn’t so sure.
Caryssa hesitated before she finally entered the room. Hesitantly, she pulled out the vacant bar stool they offered. Suddenly feeling as awkward as a rookie agent on her first day on the job, she darted a glance between the women.
Jolie studied her, her eyes softening in a way that made Caryssa feel as if the woman could see right through her.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She reached for a mug that wasn’t there yet, her hands needing something to do.
“Let me pour you some tea.” Jolie bounced up from her seat with a lot of energy for it being so late at night. She crossed the room in swift strides to the white porcelain teapot sitting on the very industrial range.
Caryssa was surprised to see it had little pink flowers dancing across the side, and her lips twitched at the thought of the big, rugged men of the ghost ops team pouring from it.
“Um, thank you.”
Jolie tossed a look over her shoulder. “I hope you drink chamomile.”
“That’s perfect.” She glanced around the kitchen. The appliances were all industrial grade, as were the cabinets. Her gaze snagged on one cupboard that was inked with blocky black letters. AMMO.
Across the space sat the long dining table where she’d first spotted Reid.
She felt Stina’s stare and shifted in her chair. She used to be good at being around people. Had friends once, a whole group of them before…well, everything.
Over the years, that circle had dwindled to the occasional drink with a colleague. After Phillip died, even those stopped.
Jolie brought a steaming mug to the table and set it before Caryssa.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her fingers around it and brought it halfway to her mouth. The steam rising from it made her mind go right back to all the things she and Reid did only hours before.
“You must feel a little out of place.” Stina’s words came out a touch on the rough side, and Jolie jumped in to rescue the moment.
“She means being here, around the team. Believe me, we get it. Sometimes it can be rough, living with all this testosterone. But we have fun too. It’s close to a never-ending sleepover. And…we’re glad you can join us.” When she smiled this time, there was no question it was genuine.
Caryssa took a sip and set the mug down. “This is definitely different from my usual assignments.”
They both laughed softly.
“Truth be told, I haven’t gotten out much lately.” Or the past six years, to be exact.
“Didn’t you have friends in your office?
” Again, Stina’s conversation could be construed as impolite or unkind, but Caryssa guessed she was more curious than anything.
And she knew a bit about Stina’s life in Chicago.
The woman hadn’t had it easy, working late nights and living in bad parts of the city.
“I had a few friends.” She turned to her tea again, trying to think of what to say to keep the conversation flowing while avoiding any talk about herself.
She wasn’t about to share that after Reid died, she turned inward. A grief that size didn’t leave room for much else, and she left Philadelphia soon after, unable to face their friends or people who would ask questions about what happened to him.
Pretty soon all her old friends turned to acquaintances and then drifted away altogether.
Jolie touched the back of Caryssa’s hand, startling her out of her deep thoughts. “How close were you two? You and Rivers?”
Her chest squeezed. “I thought he was going to propose.”
The women’s faces blanked and then seemed to melt with sympathy.
She went on, “He just had to go on one last mission first. That was the deal. One more, and then he was out, but then—” She swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence in a way that didn’t end in a closed casket.
Jolie’s face crumpled with a sympathy so immediate and unguarded that Caryssa almost couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Oh, Caryssa.” She reached across the table and her hand landed lightly over Caryssa’s wrist. “I’m so sorry. That’s—I can’t even imagine.”
Caryssa managed a thin smile. “It was a long time ago.”
“Any time is a long time when you’ve spent it thinking someone is gone.”
Stina made a small noise and then pushed her chair away from the counter with sudden purpose. “Okay. This calls for ice cream. Immediately.”
She grabbed on to the announcement and ran with it.
“You know what goes with ice cream?” Caryssa pushed away from the counter too, grateful for the out. “Warm mug cakes.”