“So how did you two know Zan needed checking on?” Jackie blurted out loud and just one octave shy of shrill, effectively cutting off what she was sure Zan was about to say.
Really. The nerve of some people. They’d known each other less than a day and he was ready to stake a verbal claim? She didn’t even know if her crazy attraction to Zan was due to the mating heat.
All right. So maybe that was a small lie. But that didn’t discount the fact that Zan’s confidence bordered on arrogance. Not a redeeming quality to Jackie’s way of thinking.
Joe, the lighter-haired of the two, looked from Jackie to Zan and back again. “He didn’t call us last night so we got worried. We didn’t know about his condition until we spoke this morning. After we’d already flown to Denver.”
“Wow.” She finally extracted her hand and went to the refrigerator to retrieve a can of coke. Right now she was just too hot for coffee. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” She popped the top, feigning the innocence of the untrained. “I mean coming all this way—of course I don’t know where you came from—to check on Zan just because he didn’t call?”
All five men looked at her with varying expressions from speculative to thinking she’d lost her marbles. Gracefully, she rounded the group and slid into the chair closest to the back door, thinking she might need to escape if the room got any hotter. As agitated as she was, it only then registered that the table had been set for six, which meant they would all be eating in very close proximity.
Joe cast another furtive glance at Zan whose lips were pressed tight under narrowed eyes in disapproval. If Joe and Scott had been trying for covert, they’d blown it, and they now knew they’d blown it. Zan’s expression read, “you got yourself into this mess, get yourself out”.
Before Joe could come up with some excuse, Scott slid himself into the chair at her left and aimed steely-blue eyes at her. “Chavez? I know a General George Chavez. He lives in Virginia. Don’t suppose you’re related?”
Nice counterattack. Useless on Jackie. She was raised to throw them off like a pesky fly. Besides, she took his related comment to mean blood kin, which the general wasn’t. “Sorry. It’s a common last name.” She swung her gaze to Zan. “So, you’re from Virginia?”
Judging by the flashing expressions on Zan’s face, he didn’t know what to think. He settled on amused and settled into the chair on her right. “Yes. And to answer your unasked question, Joe and Scott are part of my unit. Military unit. When I didn’t contact them last night at the appointed time, they overreacted, thinking the worst. However, in this case, they were partially correct.”
Which, in truth, if Dean and Ben hadn’t gone into the woods after hearing gunshots, Zan might still be out there, alone, bleeding to death. Jackie shivered at that horrible thought. Maybe the boys hadn’t overreacted after all.
“Do you think someone followed you up here?” Dean asked Zan. “Maybe someone with a grudge against you?”
Zan slouched in his seat, his knee brushing hers. A deliberate move Jackie knew as his leg continued to rub against hers. Slowly. From thigh to knee and back again. Her hands clenched around the soda can. If she moved her legs away she’d knock into Scott’s. She knew her table was small. Four fit comfortably but six, with two of her patio chairs added to provide the extra seating, would be tight.
Pretending to be unaffected, Jackie sat still, and let the intentional caress shoot her blood pressure into the stratosphere.
“I don’t believe so, but I was preoccupied about meeting you. It’s possible I wasn’t as thorough as normal.” Zan responded.
“Have a lot of people pissed-off at you, do you?” Ben wanted to know. He was scooping scrambled eggs into one of Jackie’s mixing bowls.
“Happens in our line of work.” Joe said. “No matter what precautions we take, we can’t always maintain our invisibility.”
Which was another hint at what Zan’s unit did. Someone really needed to tape Joe’s mouth shut. She held a picture in her head of the general doing just that and had to bite back a chuckle.
Zan turned to Scott. “Check with Russell. See if there’s any intel on undesirables entering the country.”
“On it.” With those words Scott whipped out his cell and began punching buttons.
“And with that, I’m ready for breakfast. Or lunch since it’s almost noon.” Ben placed bowls of eggs, fried potatoes, sausages and a heaping platter of pancakes—when did he make pancakes?—and toast on the table.