Page 67 of The Savior

Her other eyebrow arched, and she cocked her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m bigger than whoever is missing their clothes.”

Her lips parted, then Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe men sometimes.”

“What?” he asked.

“Bigger than?Are you trying to one-up someone you don’t know?”

He balked. “No, I’m not.”

She jumped off the couch and re-enacted his entrance, strutting, and then flexed. “It’s a little tight around all these big, manly muscles.”

“You like pretending to be me, huh?”

“Who wouldn’t?” She flexed again. “With guns like these.”

He laughed. “I don’t sound like that.”

She shrugged and slid back onto the couch. “Maybe you’re wearing my dad’s clothes.”

“Then your dad’s a little skinny.”

She chucked a pillow at him.

The unknown bothered him more than it should. “You’re not going to tell me?”

She ignored him then led the way to the table. “I worked while you played in the shower. Take a look at what I’ve put together.”

He might’ve done a lot of things in the bathroom, but playing wasn’t on the list—even if he’d wanted to.

A notepad with a hand-sketched layout waited, and Liam picked it up. She’d marked the drawing with a fewXs and arrows.

He flipped through the pages and read detailed notes. Chelsea notated the Nymans’ routines—their jobs, habits, commutes, and usual errands. Basically, she’d nailed everything about how the Nymans lived. “You did all that when I was in the shower?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” All he’d accomplished was finding her vibe and managing not to jerk off again. “Good work, Sunshine.”

She sat down at the table and twirled a pen. “Thanks.”

Liam pulled out a chair. The condo seemed darker than it had been, as if on cue, thunder boomed and shook the condo. “Here it comes again.”

A knock on the door made him jump.

“Easy, gunslinger,” Chelsea joked and shooed him back into his chair. “I ordered pizza.”

“Good thinking.” But he couldn’t settle back into his seat. The unexpected made him edgy, and everything about today had an element of surprise. As she settled up, he walked into the kitchen, needing something to do like plates or napkins.

Liam grabbed a cabinet handle but paused. Would he stumble upon a sinfully sexy belonging? Hopefully not in the kitchen. Still, he nervously swung the door open and stole an uncertain glance. Nothing but plates. Hallelujah.

For the next few hours, they ate pizza and made plans. He marveled at how her mind worked and congratulated himself for asking her for a helping hand. This was very much her bailiwick.

By the time the pizza was gone and evening had come, they had three operational objectives, and Liam was semi-comfortable they could assure the Nymans’ safety. Though, he was less than semi-sure they could do so while avoiding Senator Sorenson’s intrusive eye.

But if they ran into a problem with the senator, he’d figure out how to cover his ass. It might even mean sharing the truth with Chelsea. He wondered how she’d react to Sorenson’s use of civilians to capture a terrorist.

Right now, that wasn’t the intel he wanted to burden her with. The repercussions could be ugly.

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