Page 59 of Delta Force Defender

Jonas did something with his chin that made it clear that he, at least, was not remotely intimidated.

“You don’t count,” Isaac retorted.

They walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence, the crunch of their feet in the wet sand and the waves against the beach much better than any song he might be compelled to sing. Jonas melted off into the woods when they neared Isaac’s cabin, and Isaac took the stairs that led up to his private walkway two at a time.

It was only when he hit the top step that he admitted to himself that he didn’t expect Caradine to be there. He couldn’t believe she’d stayed the night. He’d woken this morning fully expecting that she would have snuck out to one of the cabins set aside for clients, to prove a point.

When Isaac opened his cabin door, Horatio let out a happy bark. Isaac considered doing the same, because he could smell bacon.

She was still here.

She was still here.

He swung by his office, not because he was a control freak, but because he needed to see if there was anything urgent. And he also needed to get a grip.

When he’d checked in and taken a few calming breaths, he followed the sizzling sound of bacon back into the kitchen, where Caradine was moving around as if it were hers. One of his dish towels was tossed over her shoulder, like she was back in her café. She glanced over at him when he walked in, but she didn’t say anything. She moved the cast-iron pan she’d threatened him with last night off the heat, walked over to the far counter, and poured him a cup of coffee. Then handed it to him in the extremely loud silence that had been their only form of communication for months at a time.

Then she returned to what she was doing. Isaac stood there, coffee, just the way he liked it, in his hands, his woman in his kitchen, and a pervasive sense of well-being that might have knocked him over if he’d had the slightest shred of hope that it could last.

But he didn’t want to think about that, either.

He knew what happened to happiness. He’d lived through it once already.

More important, he knew Caradine.

The coffee was strong and nearly bitter, and he burned his tongue a little when he drank it.Good, he thought. Maybe pain would get his head on straight. When he regained his control, he moved over to the stove to see her pouring out what he suspected were the silver dollar pancakes she served him sometimes in her restaurant.

Just like his mom used to make. His favorite.

“Go shower,” she ordered him, with more scowl than usual when he hadn’t said anything. In case he was tempted to mentionher true heartagain, he figured. “It’ll be ready when you’re done.”

He stole a piece of bacon, laughed at the even more ferocious scowl she aimed at him, and took himself off.

Then he stood in the water and braced himself against the wall, ordering himself not to want things he couldn’t have.

“Pancakes are love,” he announced when he walked back in, showered and dressed in his usual uniform of cargo pants and a T-shirt.

She was piling a stack of pancakes on a plate and only sniffed. “Not when I make them.”

“I think you’ll find they’re always love, Caradine.”

“My pancakes are made with spite and fury,” she retorted, not bothering to look at him. “And don’t kid yourself, Gentry. That’s why you like them. You’d choke on love.”

He sat in his chair as she brought the food to the table. She plunked his plate down with unnecessary force, then went to fix her own coffee. Isaac watched her pour cream into her cup, realizing that he’d had no idea how she took it until now. Because she was always the one who made the coffee and handed it out.

Knowing that she liked cream really shouldn’t have made him feel like he’d won a war.

Her presence here shouldn’t have felt like a victory. And yet.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said in a rush when she finally sat down, poking at the pancakes she’d served herself.

He sighed. “That bodes well.”

Her blue eyes narrowed, but she didn’t snap at him for that. Whichreallydidn’t bode well.

“The plan my sister and I made never involved... well, you.” She gave up pretending to eat and crossed her arms instead. “We agreed that we would never track each other down, because that would re-create the exact situation that we separated to avoid. The both of us in the same place, easy to follow, if someone was following us. And even easier to pick off. Or cart back to Boston.”

He switched into work mode all too easily. “What do you think the goal is here? To kill you?”

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