Chapter 13 #2
Shoving off the counter, I went and sat on the couch.
I'd move over some of my stuff later. For now, I needed a fucking nap.
I stretched out, folding my arms behind my head, resting my boots on the cushions, and closed my eyes.
Priest had done a damn good job of finding furniture that was big enough for men of our sizes.
This would be a comfortable place to sleep.
Not that I needed comfort. During my time in the special forces, I'd slept in the sand with my head on my pack.
I could pretty much sleep anywhere and ran on very little of it anyway. It served me well in civilian life.
I must have dozed off because I woke up to the sound of Eva's door opening. She walked out wearing the same clothes, but her hair was wet and pulled up into a ponytail. Her face was glowing and she looked even younger than she was.
"Hey."
She jumped at the sound of my voice and spun around to face me. "Oh, I didn't know you were still here," she said, hand over her chest as though trying to calm her racing heart.
"Sorry." I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the couch and resting my elbows on my knees. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine." She gave me a small smile. "I'm just a little jumpy."
"No wonder why." I looked at the watch on my wrist. "Why don't I make you some breakfast, then you can lay down and sleep for a while?" It was only noon. "You have a long time before the party tonight. We can go get your stuff in a few hours."
"That sounds lovely." She went and sat at the table, watching me expectedly.
I chuckled inwardly as I stood and went into the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook?"
She blinked at me then at the stove as I set two pans on it. Priest had this place fully stocked with everything but food. We'd have to stop by the grocery store after we went to pick up her stuff.
"Not really," she said, answering my question.
"Thought not." I was decent in the kitchen, but it wasn't anything to write home about.
Mostly I'd been taught to cook serviceable meals, so I wouldn't starve to death if the cook I hired quit.
"Wait here a minute." I walked to the door and opened it, then turned and gave her a piercing look. "Seriously, don't move."
"Where are you going?"
"Shopping."
I left her sitting there, looking confused, then walked down the hall. I didn't bother to knock on the door that I knew was Lock's apartment. It wasn't locked, so I went right in. Rummaging through his fridge, I pulled out everything I would need for breakfast.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Lock growled from behind me as he came in.
I didn't bother turning around. "Making Eva breakfast."
"And you couldn't do that in your own fucking kitchen?"
"No food," I told him as I shut the fridge and turned to face him. My hands were full of the food I'd pilfered. "We'll get groceries in a few hours. I'll replace what I'm taking." I started to walk past him, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
"I'm not a fucking idiot, Idaho."
My brows shot up. "Okay."
"You're not the type to step up and save damsels in distress."
I laughed at that. It was exactly what I'd thought earlier. We'd been so close for most of our lives there was no way for us not to think alike. "Not usually."
"What's so different about her?" He searched my gaze, willing me to have a good reason.
I almost hated to disappoint him. "Everything? Nothing? Don't know. I'll tell you once I figure it out." I started to walk out of his apartment.
"Don't you dare fuck her."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I called back over my shoulder.
He didn't believe me, but he wasn't willing to chase me down the hallway to finish the warning he started. Thank fuck. I didn't need to hear this shit right now. I walked back into my new apartment and held up my spoils.
"Where did you get that?" she asked, amusement making her eyes sparkle.
"From someone who didn't need it." I got to work cracking eggs into pans.
While I waited for them to cook, I sent my PI another email and told him what else I'd need from him.
He was a former FBI agent who worked for me exclusively now.
He cost me a pretty penny every month, but it was worth it to have him at my beck and call.
Her eyes were on me as I moved around the kitchen and I had to actively try not to think about how right this felt. It wasn't like we were a couple cooking breakfast together, but it still felt domestic and comfortable.
"Will you tell me what you learn?" she asked, breaking the silence between us.
I set a plate down in front of her, then sat next to her with my own. Studying her face, I asked, "Do you want me to?"
She nodded, picking up her fork and delicately spearing a bite of egg. She picked up the piece of toast and deposited the egg there before she took a bite. Somehow, everything she did seemed so damn refined.
I watched as she swallowed, wishing I could scrape my teeth over her skin. Hearing her whimpering for more as I teased her. Clearing my throat, I forced my eyes down to my plate and began eating.
"Father never tells me anything," she explained. "It makes it hard to be cautious when you don't know what you're supposed to be watching out for."
"True." I followed her example and loaded my toast up with scrambled egg and sausage. Lifting it to my mouth, I glanced over at her and found her watching me now. I winked and then grinned when she looked away, flustered. "I'll let you know what I find out."
"Thank you."
We finished the meal in silence. When we were done, she stood and looked around. "Do you want me to clean up?"
"I got it," I told her. "You go take that nap."
She could use the sleep. I was up for the rest of the day. There were already two emails and a voicemail from Andrew. I'd use the time while she rested to get some work done.
She paused at the bedroom door, looking indecisive. "I don't know how to thank you," she told me, her eyes on the floor at my feet.
"Don't. I'm sure you'll come to regret taking my help soon enough," I joked.
She met my eyes, a quick flash of a smile playing over her full lips before she nodded and went inside the room and shut the door. It wasn't hard to see that she was struggling with this.
I wondered if this was the first selfish decision she'd made in her life.
Was that what she was having a hard time with?
Plenty of people followed their own self-interests.
That she was struggling with it spoke to the kind of person she was.
Shaking my head to clear her from my thoughts, I cleaned up the kitchen and then sat down at the table and got to work.