Page 3 of Covert Operation
I swallow hard, ashamed over what I have to admit. I was expecting him to ask me this, but humiliation still heats my face when I say, “Because I don’t want them to know how scared I still am.”
I expect him to question me a little more. Maybe even tell me to ask them for help anyway. But Zeke just nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Is he agreeing? “You’ll help me?”
“I will.” He snags a towel from the stack beside the door, shaking it open before wiping it across his bare chest in a move that threatens to drag my gaze along the same path. “But won’t they be curious about what you’re doing?”
“No.” The question would make me laugh if the answer wasn’t so pitiful. I never leave the condo I bought in the complex Alaskan Security built for their employees and their families. Tonight is a rare exception for me. “Tonight is the first time I’ve been outside my townhome in weeks. I never really go anywhere, so it won’t even occur to them that I might not be inside.”
The explanation tumbles out. Once it’s free, I press a finger to my lips, hoping to stop the word vomit threatening to continue. Apparently my brain’s up and running again and fully intends to drop all my thoughts right on Zeke’s athletic shoes.
One of his brows angles. “And how do you plan on getting here? I know you don’t like driving.”
His observation skills surprise me again. It’s not a secret that I don’t like to drive. I can, I just don’t like to. Especially not in the winter when the roads are beyond questionable.
But I didn’t expect Zeke to know that.
“I hadn’t really thought that far.” My face burns with embarrassment at the oversight. I’ve been building this plan in my head for months and didn’t even consider how I’d get from point A to point B. I’m already failing at this and I haven’t even started.
Zeke slings his towel over one broad shoulder. “I’ll come pick you up.”
The hand still hovering at my mouth drops. “But they’ll see you pull up in front of my townhouse.”
“I’m not coming to your doorstep, Savannah.” His mouth quirks, eyes lighting up with amusement. “And if they see me, then I need to be fired.” He rakes one hand through the sweaty crop of dark blond hair sticking to his head. “I’ll call you at eight and tell you where to meet me.” He turns to walk toward the locker room, leaving me staring at his backside.
Which is why it takes more than a few heartbeats for me to blurt out, “But you don’t know my number.”
Zeke pauses, glancing at me over one shoulder, that same brow angled in an arrogant slash.
“Oh.” I should have realized he’d be able to get that information without issue. “Okay.”
“Eight o’clock, Savannah.” His eyes drag down my front, looking at more than my face for the first time. “And wear pants.”
TWO
ZEKE
I’M NOT SURE what I was expecting to see this morning when I pulled up outside the high-end gated community a short drive from headquarters, but this is not it.
Savannah hustles toward me down the sidewalk flanking the row of townhomes where she lives next door to her sister and brother-in-law. Her fur trimmed snow boots seem to do a decent job of gripping the salt covered path, so I only tense a little when she turns to look back, the move throwing off her balance. One arm flails out a little as she regains her stability and continues my way in a pair of bubblegum pink leggings and a deep rose parka. The soft curls of her dark hair peek out under the hood covering her head, bouncing a little with each step. The arm not helping her stay upright clutches a large bag printed in a muted floral pattern that closely resembles many of the dresses she usually wears.
Actually, this is probably exactly what I should’ve expected. If sunshine and butterflies could be embodied, it would be the woman giving me a hesitant smile as she ventures off the shoveled path to pick her way along the packed snow, quicklyapproaching the secluded gate between us. Savannah is about as different as it gets from her sister Sadie, who is just as scowly and serious and dry as her husband Jamison. Which is almost as scowly and serious and dry as I tend to be.
“Good morning.” Savannah offers me a little wave as she closes in on where I stand, leaning against the passenger side of my idling SUV.
I straighten as she unlocks the security gate between us and slips through. “Morning.”
After swinging the passenger door open, I stand back, making sure I give her plenty of room. Her cheeks pink up as she passes, sparing me the tiniest glance before ducking into the seat with a quiet, ‘Thank you’.
Once she’s safely inside, I close her in and round the front, taking my place behind the wheel before angling away from the complex that houses the bulk of Team Rogue. I know she doesn’t want her sister or Jamison to know what she’s doing, so I parked in a spot that didn’t have a sightline to any of their windows. Honestly though, it’s only a matter of time before they figure it out. I’ll be as careful as I can, but there’s only so much I can do. The guard at the main gate won’t keep her secret, and it would be easy enough to access the security system to view the camera feeds and see whose code has unlocked the gate she just came through.
But if they do find out, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they keep their mouths shut about it and mind their own fucking business. If Savannah needs this—needs me—I won’t let anyone get in her way. Not even her sister.
I glance to where she sits beside me, spine stiff, hands gripping the bag on her lap, green eyes locked on the windshield. I know how hard this is for her. How far out of her comfort zone she is. Unfortunately, I don’t have the words to make it easier.
I wish I did.
After a few minutes, her gaze comes my way, lingering a second before darting back to the windshield. “Thank you again for doing this.”