Chapter 11 #3
Before her mind could go down that particular rabbit hole, she lifted her chin. “You have my word. What you say, when you say it. No questions.”
Rhys nodded. “Thank you for that. Let me call Wolf, and we’ll organize something.”
“You really think they’d come with us?” She couldn’t quite grasp that the SEALs would do that for near-strangers.
“Remember the barbecue? Some friendships run deep, no matter how long—or not—they’ve existed. They were prepared to go without us.” He gave her an assessing look. “I’ll explain it to you one day. In the meantime, we have some planning and preparation to do.”
She listened intently as Rhys went through the logistics of their trip to Las Vegas, explaining how she might want to take an overnight bag for a stay of one, possibly two nights, depending on what they found when they arrived and how things panned out from there.
“I might as well do that now.” As Taylor stood, so did Rhys. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering how her next question would be received. “Can I pack some things for you while you’re speaking to Wolf?”
“No, it’s okay—” He broke off suddenly and gave her a smile that warmed her all the way to her bones. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” On tiptoe, she brushed her lips across his. “Is it okay if I go into your room?”
“Of course—you might find it difficult otherwise,” he chuckled. “You’ll find a bag in the closet and clothes in the drawers. Pack what you think for a couple of nights.”
“Okay.”
This was the first time she’d ventured into Rhys’ personal space.
The room was meticulously tidy, with everything in order—the polar opposite to Wyatt, whose apartment had been irredeemably untidy.
The way things had turned out, Taylor was glad she’d never really taken him to task about it—it would have been one more regret about their short-lived relationship.
However, the past was the past, and could not be changed.
Her focus now was on finding out the truth and packing for Rhys.
If only their trip included an opportunity for him to wear the black dress shirt at one end of the rail in the walk-in closet.
She touched the sleeve with her fingertips—the quality of the fabric was unmistakable.
Every female head—and no doubt some male ones too—in a five-mile radius would turn at the sight of him in that.
With a sigh, she turned her attention to the more practical items of clothing, like the selection of tees and tactical pants she found in the drawers. She laid them out on the bed, then addressed the matter of socks and underwear.
Handling the latter was strangely intimate, given the newness of the change in their relationship. Still, let it not be said she wasn’t up to the task. And at least she wasn’t faced with a wide selection of styles and colors. Rhys knew what he liked, and it came in either black or white.
With all his clothes laid out, Taylor now faced the question of locating the bag. As she rummaged around the closet, her fingertips brushed against something hard. Curiosity piqued, she lifted it down from the shelf. Her stomach flipped when she recognized what it was.
“We’ll need that too,” Rhys said from the closet doorway. “I can’t carry a gun here, but once we’re over the state line and in Nevada, it comes out.”
He came over and took the portable gun safe from her, carefully avoiding the biometric scanner. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d never seen him wearing a loaded holster back home. “It just reminds me of why we’re here and how badly it could all go wrong, is all.” She lifted her gaze from the black box to his face. “How did I miss you had this?”
“I was careful,” he replied.
Even though she was familiar with the gun culture of Texas, in this instance the implications of it made her uneasy. “I hope you don’t have to use it.”
“Me too.” He laid it down on a shelf and gathered her to him. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “Try not to think about it. Chances are, it won’t come down to a firefight. It’s most likely we’ll find your father, he’ll explain everything, and it’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”
Taylor wondered if he was personally as convinced as he sounded, although she appreciated the attempt to set her mind at ease. “How did the call with Wolf go?”
“He was already working up a plan. He and a couple of his team members are going to rendezvous here, with us, at zero-five-hundred tomorrow, with the aim of getting to Vegas for about ten hundred hours. You’ll stay with one of his team at a safe distance, while we take a look at the house.”
“It’s a gated community—how will you get inside it?”
“That’s the least of our problems. Wolf is sourcing a solution as we speak.” He gave a wry grin. “I think he’s relishing the challenge. Now, why don’t we finish preparing for tomorrow, then take in a movie, get some pizza delivered, and have an early night? We’ll need to be rested for tomorrow.”
Taylor pressed her lips to his cheek. She could get used to this very, very easily. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”