Page 52 of Deadly Sins
“More like a statement of fact.”
Fenn clutched his chest dramatically. “And here I thought we were friends.”
“Friends don’t let friends make empty threats,” she countered, enjoying the familiar banter.
“Who said anything about empty?” Fenn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
She laughed, the sound echoing in the small room. For a moment, she could almost forget the chaos that awaited them outside the sanctuary of their makeshift bedroom.
But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much she wished otherwise. As much as she longed to pretend that life hadn’t turned upside down, it was time to face the truth.
And Hawk.
“Time to hit it,” Fenn announced and slipped out of his sleeping bag.
She and Fenn moved about the cramped, cold space of the supply room, their breath visible in the air as they pulled on their clothes over their thick long underwear. The rustling of fabric filled the room, punctuated by the occasional shiver or muttered curse as they navigated the tight quarters.
She reached for her tactical pants, the heavy material stiff and unyielding in her hands. Balancing on one foot, she tried to slide the pants over the leggings, but the fabric bunched and caught, refusing to cooperate. She hopped awkwardly, trying to maintain her balance, and bumped into Fenn, who was struggling with his own pants.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Fenn chuckled, the sound warm and familiar in the chill of the room. “No worries,” he said, his voice muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “It’s like trying to get dressed in a carboard box.”
She snorted, the absurdity of their situation hitting her all at once. Here they were, two highly trained operatives, stumbling around like clumsy teenagers, all because of a few layers of clothing.
She finally managed to get her pants on, the waistband snug against her hips. She reached for her tactical shirt, the material cold and stiff against her fingers. As she pulled it over her head, the fabric caught on her hair, and she let out a frustrated growl.
Fenn, who had managed to get his own shirt on with minimal difficulty, reached over and gently untangled her hair from the collar. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck, and Kate felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Fenn’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. In that instant, it was just the two of them, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.
But the moment was fleeting, and reality came crashing back. They finished dressing quickly, the silence between them filled with a new kind of tension.
As they made their way out of the supply room, Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Something small, but significant.
They made their way out to the main living area, where Hawk was already waiting, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
As they joined him at the small counter, the aroma of the coffee filled Kate’s nostrils, and she couldn’t help but inhale deeply, savoring the rich, invigorating scent.
Fenn poured two mugs and handed one to Kate.
Hawk wasted no time in discussing the plan, his voice low and urgent. “Looks like you’re still my good luck charm, Kitty Cat. Storm’s over early.”
Ugh. She forced herself not to cringe at the outdated nickname. “Fenn and I are going to go back to the hotel and get our gear and the rest of our armament.”
But Hawk had other ideas. “I need you here, helping me prep,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes intense. “Fenn can go on his own.” He jutted his clean-shaven chin at Fenn. “You’re good with that, right? I figure you can grab whatever she needs.”
Kate’s stomach churned, a sense of unease washing over her. She glanced at Fenn, who looked equally skeptical, his brow furrowed in concern.
“We should stick together,” Fenn insisted.
But Hawk wouldn’t budge. “It’ll be faster my way. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Kate hesitated, torn between her instincts and the need to move forward with their plan. Fenn was right. Splitting up was a risk, but she also knew that every minute counted.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice tight with reluctance. “Fenn, you take one of the snowmobiles. Hawk and I will meet you at the hotel with the other two machines.”