Page 38 of Covert Operation

His posture relaxes the smallest bit. “Sure.” He unzips the front, sliding it free before passing it off.

I lift my brows as I look him over. “I’m starting to suspect you only own work clothes.” Once again, he’s in black tactical pants and a black shirt. It’s not surprising, though. Jamison was the same way before he met my sister. All work and no play.

Technically, my brother-in-law is still all work and no play, but sometimes he wears jeans.

Zeke shrugs. “It makes things simple.”

I drape his coat over one arm. “Simple can be good, but variety isn’t always bad.” I’m kind of caught between the two myself. My old life was filled with hobbies and adventures and work and fashion and...

Now that seems like a lot.

But my life here in Alaska is devoid of any sort of interest. I’m not so sure that’s great either.

I think I’ve gotta find a happy medium, whatever that is.

I hold up one finger. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” I quickly hang Zeke’s coat, and rejoin him, turning to point at the line of food down the counter. “You can start eating whenever you want. Everyone pretty much eats all night.” I motion to the table where most of Jamison’s friends will be playing cards. “Soon there’ll be a pretty intense poker game happening that you can participate in if you want.”

“You don’t sound like you find poker interesting.” Zeke accurately reads my tone.

I wrinkle my nose. “Not even a little bit. It gets too heated and intense for me.” I point to the last area on the main level. “I generally hang out with the kids watching television.”

It’s actually been one of the more enjoyable parts of my existence this past year. It was a good way to still spend time with the little people who constituted a huge portion of my life before, but without the pressure of their education resting on my shoulders.

“There you are.” Sadie interrupts the rest of my explanation, cutting between me and Zeke like he isn’t even there. “I thought you’d get here before now.”

I usually come over early, but I didn’t want to face another conversation about Florida, so I waited until the last minute to head over. “I just lost track of time.”

I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want to tell her the truth. About a lot of things. Like how I won’t change my mind about going to Florida. How I’m never going to be the Savannah she used to know.

And how I’m starting to accidentally think naughty thoughts about the man glaring at her back.

SIXTEEN

ZEKE

THERE’S NO REASON for me to be irritated with Savannah’s sister.

It’s happening anyway.

I know Sadie just wants what’s best for Savannah, but she also wants what’s best for herself. It’s human nature, and I don’t blame her. She’s already lost both her parents. It makes sense that Sadie wouldn’t want to lose her sister too.

But expecting Savannah to be what she was before is only making everything worse. It’s made her feel like a failure for not being able to do it. It’s put pressure on her. Wedged a divide between them.

And now she butted into our conversation without thinking twice. Without stopping to consider what might be best for Savannah. Not that I think I’m what’s best for her. I’m just pissed she didn’t consider it.

Since I don’t want to stand here like a fucking idiot, I turn to the food Savannah said I could dig into whenever I wanted. Thelineup is substantial, and it’s clear other people have already partaken, so I don’t feel bad when I grab a plate and dig in.

Expectedly, there’s plenty of pizza, but I’ve eaten enough fast food, take out, and delivery to last me a lifetime, so I zero in on the homemade items. There’s some sort of a hot dip and I scoop some of that onto my plate along with a handful of tortilla chips. There’s also pasta salad so I add a little of that. Then I reach the tray I carried in and find it full of delicious smelling meatballs. I pile a mountain onto my plate, grab a beer from the cooler at the end, and turn around to decide where to go next.

Except I don’t get to decide, because I’m immediately accosted by a few members of Rogue. Brock, Wade, and Reed spend the next half-hour giving me shit about finally showing up to one of their get-togethers, and pressing me for information about both my trip to Nashville and the op that resulted in my injury.

As we talk, my eyes drift around, looking for dark curls and a sweet smile. I’m just making sure she’s okay, that’s all. And it’s a good thing I am, because every time I find Savannah, our eyes meet—like she was looking for me too. Probably for reassurance. The support I’m more than happy to offer.

Helping women like Savannah has been my life’s mission. A way to move forward when I thought I couldn’t. It’s gotten me through more dark days than I can count.

I always kept Mona and Bess and anyone else who needed my assistance at arm’s length. It never went beyond teaching them skills and bolstering their confidence. But that’s proving to be impossible with Savannah, and I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing.

“Are you gonna play poker?” Reed gives me a sly grin. “I’d love to take some of your money.”