Page 10 of Covert Operation
“So are you suggesting I tickle my way out of danger?”
She settles onto her feet but doesn’t let me go. The soft feel of her skin against mine keeps me from realizing she’s teasing me, so I answer honestly. “If it’s your best option, yes.” Her hand falls from mine, removing the distraction making me even denser than normal and I finally notice the slight curve of her lips. “You were joking.”
“I was trying to joke.” She inhales, brows climbing. “But I guess this really isn’t a funny situation is it?”
She thinks I’m judging her for how she’s processing what happened to her. How she’s dealing with the fallout.
I can’t allow her to believe I would ever judge her.
“This situation is whatever you want it to be.” I always do my best to keep these sessions as impersonal as I can. All that matters is helping them recover and move forward. But ifSavannah is going to need humor to get through this, there’s something she should know about me. “But humor isn’t one of my strong suits.” I don’t joke. I don’t tease. Life is serious. The minute you forget that, bad things can happen.
“You don’t say,” she says, that hint of a smile peeking out even more.
“Funny.” I find myself smiling back at her and quickly flatten it out. Redirecting her focus, I point to the mats at the center of the room. “Want to go again?”
She shifts on her feet, teeth pinching her lower lip. “I guess.”
I step onto the cushioned surface and spread my arms wide. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Again, she wipes both hands down her pants and a stab of guilt pinches my gut. She’s nervous, and it’s because of me.
But there’s something else jabbing me along with the guilt. A need I haven’t felt in years.
I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I want her to see me as something other than what I’ve become. I don’t know why, but it’s there.
And it’s irritating.
Savannah’s skin pales and she suddenly straightens, all her attention on the door at my back. “I can explain.”
I spin, ready to defend her actions against whoever’s interrupted our session.
But there’s no one there. The door is still closed, the room outside still dark through the narrow window cut into the thick steel.
That tricky little?—
Savannah’s slight weight hits my back again, her slim arms gripping my neck tight. This time they’re tucked closer to her body, protecting the vulnerable area I exploited last round. Her laugh is triumphant in my ear as she gloats. “Guess it’ll work twice after all.”
FIVE
SAVANNAH
I WAS NOT expecting this to be fun. I also wasn’t expecting it to be so easy to spend time with Zeke. He’s so big and so intimidating looking, I thought I’d dissolve into a melted puddle of fear every time he put that assessing stare on me.
Instead, I’m clinging to his back like a koala, laughing like a lunatic as he stands there trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament.
I’m not stupid. I know he could easily get free. But I also know he would never do it in a way that might hurt me. Because this giant, scary, deadly man’s primary focus is keeping me safe.
And it’s gone straight to my head.
Zeke turns, the movement easy and graceful, even with my added weight on his back. He scans the space then tips his head my way, angling a brow. “You’re not making this easy on me, you know that, right?”
Pride tightens my chest. I really thought I’d suck at this. That he would be ripping his hair out at my helplessness and unable to give me what I so desperately want.
Freedom.
But I can already feel it creeping under my skin. Sliding through my veins. Promising me the end is in sight.
And so I keep laughing as he once again walks us to the pile of mats at the back of the room. But instead of trying to tickle me free again, he stands there, hands on his hips, staring down at the stack.