Chapter 4
Mason walked out into the family room and stretched. A blanket and pillow sat on the couch, but the room was empty.
Had Jess slept on the couch?
The door to her bedroom was open, and he could hear the water running in the shower. Early riser…or she had trouble sleeping. Most likely the latter. If she hadn’t had nightmares last night, he would’ve been surprised. Shooting someone was hard enough. Taking a person’s life, no matter what the circumstance, was not an easy thing to overcome. Mason believed she was justified, but he knew from experience that it made little difference when emotions and guilt took over rational thought.
He flipped on the light in the kitchen and grabbed the carafe from the coffee maker and filled it with water while he added a filter and coffee to the basket. He hoped Jess liked really strong coffee and didn’t take anything in it. His refrigerator was pretty bare.
A knock at the door sent him quietly moving towards the gun he kept in the drawer of the table next to the couch. He might have to reconsider that now that he had a house guest. Having guns out without locking them up wasn’t a real issue when he was the only one living there.
He peered out the peephole in the door. Riley Bray, the CIA analyst for his new team. He opened the door and stepped out of the way to let her in. “Thought you were going to text me when you were on your way?”
“Check your phone, dumbass.”
Riley was tall, probably just shy of six foot, with an attitude to match her red hair. She didn’t hold back any punches and fit in perfect with the team of twelve men. She was good looking, sexy even, but Mason had a hard time thinking of her as anything more than a sister. Which was probably for the best, since they worked together.
Mason pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweat pants. Sure enough, a text from Riley lit up the screen.
He smiled. “Oops.”
“Yeah, oops.”
Mason filled a mug with coffee and handed it to her.
“Where’s your roomie?” Riley asked.
“Shower.”
“So, how was your first night?”
Mason shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” He pointed toward the living room. “Think she slept part of the night on the couch, but I didn’t hear a peep out of her. Haven’t actually laid eyes on her this morning.”
“Here. Since I know you don’t have anything to eat.” Riley tossed a McDonald’s bag at him. “You’re unsure if she’s okay—or actually here?”
Mason dug through the bag. Ten sausage biscuits and six hash browns. Riley was a goddess. He unwrapped a sausage biscuit and took a bite. “Didn’t think it was a good idea to check the shower to make sure it was actually her.”
“Why? is there a gun in there?”
“No.” He shoved the second half of the biscuit into his mouth.
A shit-eating grin slid across her mouth. “Then there’s no need to worry about her shooting you in the chest.”
“Funny. Who knew you had a sense of humor?”
“Not many, my friend, not many.” She pointed to the bag. “Leave some for your charge.”
The door to the bathroom opened, and a figure emerged. Jess walked into the living room and stood next to the breakfast bar.
“Good morning,” Mason said. “Coffee?”
“Please,” she said and took the mug in her hands.
“Riley—Jess,” Mason said as way of introduction. “Jess—Riley.”
Riley put out her hand and Jess shook it. She looked Jess up and down, and then glanced at Mason. “Pretty good job judging her size, Tink. I’m impressed.”
“Not my first time.” He winked.
Jess stared at him, a multitude of questions swirling in those rich brown eyes. Something stirred in his chest. He attributed it to heartburn because he didn’t want to consider this woman was making him feel anything. She was work, and he kept emotions out of work as much as possible. Too hard to kill people if you let affection rule your actions.
Riley handed Jess a bag. “I bought a few things for you—couple of changes of clothes, toothbrush, shampoo—so you don’t have to smell like Mason just because you’re staying with him.”
Jess glanced inside the bag. “Oh, thank you.”
“It’s just a couple of pairs of yoga pants, tops, and some other essentials. And a jacket. If there’s anything that you don’t like or doesn’t fit, just let me know.”
Jess rummaged through the bag. “No, this all looks great—perfect, actually.”
“If you want to get me a list of things you need—maybe go online and have Tink send me links to things you like, I can pick stuff up for you.”
Deep lines creased Jess’s forehead, but she nodded at Riley, and seemed to accept things as they were.
For now. Mason figured that wasn’t going to last much longer. She was going to demand answers as to what was going on. Good thing they would be meeting with Holt soon.
“I’m going get going,” Riley said. “See you both later.”
Mason followed her to the door, and re-engaged all the locks after she left.
“So, is that your girlfriend?” Jess asked.
Mason’s stalled mid drink of his coffee. “Riley?”
Jess nodded.
Mason snorted. “No, Riley is not my girlfriend. I work with her.”
“Oh.”
Mason grabbed another sausage biscuit and one of the hash browns. “Breakfast,” he said, pointing at the bag on the counter.
She rummaged through the bag and Mason wondered if she was looking for something vegan…or healthy. The thought nearly caused him to roll his eyes. She pulled out a sausage biscuit, broke off a piece of hash brown and popped it in her mouth.
Some cliché about books and covers and judging flitted through his mind.
“Did I hear her call you ‘Tink’?” she asked as she unwrapped the biscuit.
“Yeah, it’s my—nickname, I guess you could say.”
“Interesting name.”
He nodded. She stared at him, no doubt waiting for him to expound on her unasked question. For some reason, the way her eyes were dancing with excitement gave him a thrill, and he decided it was more fun to make her wait to find out the etymology of his call sign.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said and gestured toward the food. “Eat what you want of that. I’ll finish off what’s left when I get done. Make yourself at home. The Colonel will be here later on to go over everything and answer questions.”
She nodded, grabbed another sausage biscuit, and plopped down in front of the TV.
Somewhere deep inside Mason, a door squeaked open, and a curious head popped out. Jess Baylor stoked flames of interest and caused him to wonder what was so disturbing about how he was reacting to her.
He tossed his clothes onto the floor and stepped under the hot water. There was no question she was hot. The dark hair, smoldering eyes, and Latino coloring were a definite turn-on. She was tall, well-proportioned, curvy in all the right places. But there was something more to her. Little doubt she was strong—she had yet to lose it even though her life was upside down, and she had no real answers as to what the hell was going on.
And that was probably the sexiest part of her. Jess was going with the flow—smart enough to comprehend that her life was in danger and they were trying to keep her safe. Was it partly because they needed information in order to potentially thwart a terrorist organization from gaining ground in the world theater? Yeah, but they were also not willing to let a terrorist harm another citizen.
Too many Americans had lost their lives to terrorism—and Mason was bound and determined to do whatever he could to make sure no one else was hurt.
Especially not the brave young woman who had shot her attacker at point blank range and hadn’t completely fallen apart.