Then Harper and Tam, they’d nearly been killed too many times to think about. Not a whimper out of either of them. They just did what needed to get done efficiently and smartly. He was proud he’d gotten to serve with them, and it pissed him off royally that they were in hiding now, afraid for their lives, living in the shadows, like him.
And if they didn’t catch the geek? He wouldn’t wish his life on anyone, let alone Christie. It was lonely and difficult, and there wasn’t a moment that went by that he wasn’t aware he was hunted.
He’d thought a lot about the geek, and the possibility that he was connected to the Company. Just thinking about that made him angry, and he had to get up from the bed and walk off some steam.
Christie looked at him, but he just paced, waiting for her to get done with her business. Jesus, he wanted to get his hands on that prick. If he was connected, then there was no choice, they’d have to take him out. Then they’d have to find his place and clean it out. All that before going deep underground yet again. A new name, a new place to live.
He wished they could just leave L.A., but that wasn’t possible, not if they wanted to ever get out of this mess. The men they were hunting had their headquarters here. The team had followed the evidence here, and this is where they’d get it back.
“Uh, Boone?”
He stopped. Christie stood a few feet away, concern all over her beautiful face. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Right. I’m done in here. I have to get Milo’s stuff put together.”
“Okay. I’ll get your suitcase.”
She watched him as he went to the closet, and he forced his thoughts to the here and now. Tonight might be the last time he ever saw her. If they were successful, and he had no doubt they would be, she would go back to her life, and he would go back to his. Maybe he’d figure out a way to check up on her. Make sure she was getting on all right.
No, that would be too difficult. He’d cut it off, make it quick. Say goodbye, and forget about her. When he was back in the world, that’s when he’d find her again. If she were still available—
“Boone?”
“Yeah, right. Suitcase.” He got the bag, in which she’d clearly packed bricks, and headed toward the living room. Christie followed until they reached the kitchen, where she went off to put together a bag of Milo’s supplies.
Boone put the suitcase near the door, then went to the window. It was too soon for the geek to make his move, but he’d be listening. For the next few hours, they’d have to appear happy, confident that they’d be making a successful escape.
Nothing was happening on her street. No one was walking a dog or watering the lawn. It was almost nine, after the dinner hour. Time for TV or homework, or whatever happy families did on a weeknight.
“Is someone out there?”
He turned. Christie was standing in the light from the kitchen, her hair dark and shiny, her T-shirt snug across her breasts and loose in the middle where it hid her Glock. “No, nothing.”
“I know it’s going to hurt your puritan soul, but I’m going to make cookies. You can come and scowl at me if you want.”
“Cookies? Again?”
“See? All’s right with the world.” She shook her head as she headed to the stove.
What the hell. Cookies, ice cream. She was right. Now was no time for denial. She could eat any damn thing she wanted tonight. Tomorrow, when it was over, he’d talk to her about her diet, and see if she’d be willing to make a few—
Shit. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t say a word. She could eat cookies for dinner forever, it was none of his business. He went to the kitchen table and sat down. Milo came over for a pet, and Boone obliged.
He watched as she got out yet another package of frozen cookie dough, then turned on the oven. She wasn’t shaking, or looking over her shoulder. In fact, she seemed remarkably calm. “Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low now that they were in the safe zone.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
She came to the table and sat down next to him. “Shockingly, yes. It’s going to go the way it’s going to go. I can’t do anything else to prepare, and I can’t sit here and worry because that wouldn’t do any good, either. So, it’s cookies and hot chocolate. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other.”
“Damn,” he said.
Her lips quirked up on one side. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think you’re pretty amazing.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded.
She leaned over to brush her lips over his. “It’s mutual,” she whispered.