CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Witness Protection wasn’t exactly like Angela had seen in the movies. She and Sawyer wouldn’t be in the Marshals’ protective care long enough to establish new identities in a new community. They simply had to stay put. No job. No communication with the outside world. No responsibilities other than staying within the secure confines of a federal safe house that was planted in the middle of nowhere. Truthfully, she didn’t even know what state they were in, only that they were within a day’s drive of the federal courthouse in Alexandria, Virginia, where Pham’s trial would take place.
Sawyer and Angela only had each other, a closet full of board games, a pantry and kitchen full of food, and a huge, inviting bed. Witness Protection had been very nice in the lots-of-orgasms, lots-of-snuggling kind of way.
But their time together hadn’t just been orgasms that could set the world on fire. Sawyer wanted her to be comfortable when they returned to the outside world, and he’d made it very clear that things would be different when they resumed their ordinary lives. There’d be no hiding that he was her man. Angela loved that in a way she didn’t know she could.
Rain poured through the thick forest of trees that surrounded their little house. She’d tried her hand at video games that morning and discovered that she wasn’t too bad with the old-style NES games that she’d only wished she’d been allowed to play as a child, but the games du jour gave her motion sickness. After that, they’d raided a closet full of board games, dice, and cards.
She watched her man shake the dice in the cup and roll them. Sawyer scrutinized the dice and smiled in the way that only a larger-than-life superhero of a man could while playing Yahtzee. Four of a kind. He marked his score sheet.
She tried to see his tally of points. “I’m going to lose, aren’t I?”
His smirk was one part don’t-give-up-yet and two parts you-better-catch-up.
She hated to lose games almost as much as she hated to play games based on chance. They gave her the same feeling as jumping headfirst into a public, serious relationship. There was only so much she could say and do to control their debut and future. Angela hadn’t needed to discuss anything with her ex because they hadn’t had a real relationship. Not one that she invested herself in or planned for the future. With Sawyer, she was crazy enough to envision growing old together. But she still needed to know some details. “So, I have a question.”
Sawyer hummed as though he understood she wasn’t clarifying the rules to Yahtzee or asking what they should do for dinner. “I was wondering when this would happen.” His brows rose. “Will you throw your dice first?”
Angela paused. Her spine straightened. “When what would happen?”
“What’s about to.” He gestured to her cup. “Throw.”
“You can’t read my mind.”
“That’s not entirely true, sweetheart.”
She shook her dice haphazardly and threw them onto the table, not looking at what she rolled. “What was I going to ask?”
“We’ve already figured out logistics in Abu Dhabi.”
“Yes.” She warily studied his casual nature. Moving in together was a big step, but it was hard to imagine any other option after Sawyer said he wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to her whenever he wasn’t on assignment. “My place, temporarily. Until we get one that’s ours.”
Jared would let them choose a hotel suite that was laid out like an apartment. Interior decorators were on the house. It was all a part of the perks that came with working for Titan and living in a luxury hotel.
“But now you want to plan the details,” Sawyer offered. “Responsibilities. Expectations.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Most relationships fail because couples fight over money and who takes out the trash.”
“That sounds like a symptom. A lack of respect and communication being more of the problem.”
“Hence, I want to talk about some things.”
He grinned. “Give me your laundry list of questions, and I’ll do my best.”
She crossed her arms. It wasn’t as if she was giving a quiz. “I just want to plan.”
“Ange, you plan everything to a tee. I know that about you, and I’m not saying it’s wrong. All I said was I wondered when this would happen.”
Her lips flattened, but she tried to see it from his side. So, she was a buttoned-up control freak. That part of her had loosened since they’d set foot on the jet and she’d fallen asleep in his arms. It had been nice to let go of holding the world together.
“I’ll start,” he said. “I do my laundry. You do yours. I don’t know what will shrink or melt or whatever else if I throw it in the washer with my jeans. Your wardrobe likely costs more than my collection of weapons, so I’m not going to screw with it.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Can you put your laundry in the hamper and not next to it?”
His lips pursed as though he were considering the mental and physical requirements of depositing laundry twelve inches farther than where he usually tossed it. “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.”
“Sawyer, seriously—”
“But we’ll use housekeeping,” he offered. “You won’t even know I’ve piled everything on the floor. Or, you won’t for long.”
“You’re a grown man, Sawyer Cabot.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms as he lay on the couch. “What else is on your list?”
“I like brightly colored furniture.”
“Fine. I don’t give a shit about the furniture, so long as it’s comfortable.”
That was fair. “Who cooks?”
“I’m a better cook than you,” he said.
“That’s because you coat everything in butter and oil and salt.”
“Basic chemistry, sweetheart. You gotta season food.”
“If I eat like you all of the time, my butt will not fit in my skirts.”
The corners of his lips curled. “Or you’ll fit better into your skirts. ’Cause, I’m not going to lie, I love your ass. More of it won’t be a bad thing.”
A blush shot from her neck into her cheeks. “Sometimes the chicken has to be skinless and the vegetables steamed.”
He shook his head, his smile deepening. “The things I will do to make you happy.”
“I’ll cook sometimes.”
“And I’ll eat it. Sometimes.”
Playfully, she shoved him. “I like to bake.”
The corners of his eyes tightened. “I didn’t know that.”
“See. There are many things we don’t know about each other yet, even if it seems like we know everything.”
His hand ran up her spine and into her loose hair. “What are you going to make me?”
“Whole-grain bread.”
Sawyer laughed and rolled on top of her. “What if I ask for something sweet?”
“You’d have to ask nicely.”
His hips rolled between her legs, and his lips dipped below her ear. Sawyer took his time whispering, “I always ask nicely.”
That was true. “I’m pretty sure I have everything to make cookies.”
Sawyer asked her to bake them, and he did so very, very nicely.