Page 7 of Once a Killer

She interrupted the pictures in his mind, saying, “We’re sharing a house. Seems like we should share the chores.” She refilled her water glass and dropped back into the chair. “You cooked, I cleaned up.”

“Hardly. I picked up my phone and ordered food. It appeared. That’s it.”

She smiled, and he blinked. The sun appeared through the clouds and the room brightened. Her honey-blond hair gleamed in the light from the ceiling. Before he could react in any way, the smile disappeared. “And I picked up the dishes, rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher,” she said. “It took all of twenty seconds.”

She leaned forward and set her arms on the table. “Let’s talk about what’s been going on with you.”

“So is this the ‘get to know you’ portion of the evening?” Jameson asked, watching Bree carefully.

She shrugged. “If that’s what you want to call it. The more I know about you, the better I can protect you.”

Finally, the opening he’d been waiting for. He was damn well going to find out more about Bree Gordon, including where she’d learned to put a guy twice her size on the floor so easily. “And the more I know aboutyou, the more I’ll be able to trust you. So tell me, what’s your background?”

She froze, her expression ‘deer in the headlights’. Then she drew in a deep breath. Relaxed her hands and dropped them onto her lap. Out of sight. “I was in the military,” she said. “Served four years. Then I worked with another government agency, which I’m not at liberty to disclose, for another three years. Went from that almost immediately to Blackhawk Security.”

“Where were you stationed?” he asked.

“In different places.”

She was regaining control of the conversation, so he tried to pry out more information. “What was your job?”

“Doing what had to be done.”

“You’re not very forthcoming about your past history, are you?” he said, studying her carefully.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Why would I be? All you need to know about me is that I can do my job. Protect you. Take down any threats.”

“I need to know what skills you have. Can you be more specific about what you did in the military?” he asked.

She swallowed, and he watched the ripple of her throat. Wondered what it would feel like against his mouth. Finally she said, “I was a grunt, and I did what all the grunts did. Patrols. Protective details. The occasional VIP escort.” Her gaze slid away from his. “Lots of what every soldier does -- sitting around and waiting.”

Jameson had cultivated the skill of reading people. Of immediately knowing what was on their mind. When you were a target, it was good to know what the people around you were thinking.

Bree’s explanation may not have been a lie, but it was… deceptive. There’d been more to her job than she’d shared. And it was something she didn’t want to talk about.

“So, Ms. Gordon, what are you trying to hide?” he asked.

Her mouth tightened for a nanosecond. Relaxed immediately as she recovered her composure. If he hadn’t been watching her so carefully, he wouldn’t have seen that moment of exposure.

“I’m not trying to hide anything, Mr. Ford,” she said. “Ask anyone who’s served in the military. They’ll tell you what I’ve described is exactly what they do. Including the sitting around and waiting.”

“Then what did you do for the agency that can’t be named?”

Her chest rose and fell. Rose and fell. She held his gaze for a long moment, then her eyes slid to the side. Down. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

He waited for another beat, but knew he wasn’t getting any more information from Bree. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

“Okay, then I guess it’s my turn on the hot seat,” he said, trying to lighten the tension that had settled in the kitchen. “What do you want to know?”

Bree took a slow, normal breath. Blew it out. Fixed her cool, intense gaze on him. He’d blindsided her, but he’d never know it by looking at her. She’d recovered almost immediately. Took her control back from him.

He wanted information from her. Doubted he’d ever get it. Bree was an enigma he wanted to solve.

Clearing her throat, Bree said, “Tell me what’s been going on. Why you think you need a bodyguard. And why you chose Blackhawk Security.”

“The last question’s the easiest,” he said, relaxing his shoulders. “Dev Smith is a friend of mine. We went to college together. After we graduated, he went into the military. I went to grad school. But we’ve kept in touch. The occasional phone call, and we meet for a beer if we’re ever in the same place.”

Bree nodded slowly. “Okay, good to know. If I need any info about you that you’re not willing to share, I’ll ask Dev.”

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