Page 11 of Handling Haven

When she sat up at the end of her treatment, he handed her a clean towel he’d grabbed from a nearby shelf. She thanked him, then wiped her face with it. “Do you mind if we get takeout for lunch? After sweating my ass off, I really don’t want to sit in a restaurant. Or maybe we better do this some other time,” she added as she deftly swung herself into the wheelchair the PT aide had moved closer to the cot.

“No worries. Takeout is fine with me.” Frisco wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He’d been dreaming of her for months and now he was afraid if he let her go, he’d never see her again.

“Okay.” Haven wheeled her chair around him and headed for the door. “See if you cankeep up, slacker.”

Frisco grinned as he hurried to catch up to her. “Slacker, huh?”

They continued out to the parking lot, chatting about everyday things, just like any ordinary couple, which they were so far from being. Haven and Frisco had seen and done too many things for their country to be considered “ordinary.” Maybe that was another reason Frisco felt such a strong attraction to the female operative—she understood what it was like to be someone who had to keep his true professional life a secret from the public world. While there were many missions neither could give details about, they’d be able to talk in general terms and have the other fathom what they’d gone through.

Haven stopped next to a van parked in a handicap spot near the front entrance to the hospital. “It’s probably easiest if you follow me. I know a little shack with great burgers right next to a park we can eat in.”

“You’re driving?” When her eyebrows shot up, he scrambled to cover his faux pas. “I mean, it’s great that you are. There’s no reason you shouldn’t ... I mean, I’m just surprised you can ... um ... that came out wrong ... sorry, but how ...”

She held up a hand to stop him from babbling further. “How do I use the pedals when I don’t havefull control over my legs, yet? The driver’s setup has been modified with an accelerator and brakes I control with my hands. It took a shit ton of lessons to get used to it, but, so far, I haven’t run over any little old ladies—so all’s good.

“That’s always a good thing.” He was relieved she hadn’t taken offense to his shock and questions. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he said, “All right, then. I’m parked a few rows over in a navy-blue Charger. I’ll meet you at the exit.”

“Muscle car, huh? And here I thought you were a pickup man.”

CHAPTER 10

Puttingthe van in park in a handicapped space that gave her the room she needed, Haven took a moment to collect herself. The last person she’d expected to walk into the PT gym today was Lucas “Frisco” Ingram. Not wanting Carter and Jordyn to know she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the guy since he’d come to visit her in the hospital, she’d asked Kenny to get her the intel on him. A few weeks later, when she’d been released and moved into the handicapped-accessible home the US government had acquired for her, complete with secure internet access, she’d done her own research on him ... not that she found much more than Kenny had given her. Her favorite thing to look at was Frisco’s high school yearbook she’d foundonline. He was a hunk back then, too, and had been voted “Nicest Eyes” and “Homecoming King.” He’d been one of three co-captains on the varsity football team and, when they’d won the state championship, been named MVP after breaking the school record for rushing yards by a running back. Haven was sure she would’ve been even more impressed if she knew what a running back was and why he was rushing. Football wasn’t her thing.

Unlocking her chair from behind the steering wheel, she rolled back to the side door and slid it open. Frisco had parked in a regular spot nearby. He now stood and watched as she secured the chair to a platform that would move her out of the vehicle and lower her to the ground. It was a slow process, but one she’d gotten used to. Hopefully with a few more months of healing and therapy, she’d be able to ditch the specially-equipped van altogether.

After the lift went back into the van, Haven shut the door, then wheeled over to Slim’s Shake Shack—a hamburger, hot dog, and malted shake stand that operated from the back of a large, converted, box truck—in the corner of the parking lot. The owner was a retired fireman who made some of the best damn burgers she’d ever had. She’d found the little hut one day when Jordynhad been in town without Carter, who’d been on a mission. The two women had taken advantage of the comfortable weather and decided to go for a stroll—or roll in Haven’s case—around the lake that was at the center of the park.

After placing their orders, Frisco refused to take money from her, treating her to lunch. Once they had their burgers and sides, they doctored them up with condiments set on a shelf next to the cut-out window of the truck. Haven then put their cans of soda on her lap and followed Frisco, who carried their plates, over to a picnic table in the shade of a tall elm tree. Wanting to be on the same level as him, Haven locked the wheelchair, set the sodas on the table, then easily transferred herself onto the wooden bench across from her lunch date.

It was a beautiful day, something Haven never thought she’d enjoy again. While the sun was shining high in the sky, the temperature was only in the low 80s.

“If these things taste as good as they smell, I’ll be in heaven,” Frisco said as he placed her plate in front of her.

“I guarantee you’ll love it. I come here at least twice a week to get one.”

“Well, that explains why Slim knew your nameand didn’t need to ask what you wanted beyond ‘the usual.’”

She dipped a french fry into a blob of ketchup and smirked at his comment. “Yeah, go figure. For years I made sure nothing I did was out of habit. No patterns for anyone to follow and use to ambush me. Now, I’m doing a lot of the same stuff each week. Although, I do take a different route each time I go anywhere. Some habits die hard.”

Frisco took a huge bite out of his “Double Down” burger—two beef patties, pepper jack cheese, bacon, and fried onions topped with barbecue sauce—and moaned loudly through his full mouth. Haven chuckled, knowing exactly how he felt.

“Told ya,” she said before digging into her own avocado-topped burger. They ate in a comfortable silence for several minutes while Haven studied the man who’d saved her life, despite her protests at the time. His medium-brown hair was even longer than she remembered, as was his beard, but she’d recognize those wicked, hazel eyes anywhere, especially when they were focused on nothing but her.

“So ...” he started between swallowing a mouthful and taking a sip of his cola. “What did you need my help with?”

Haven took a deep breath and letit out slowly. What she was about to ask him was going to bring back a lot of bad memories for both of them. “I need you to tell me what happened that night, from your point of view.”

His hand had been halfway to his mouth with three french fries when it froze. He frowned as he stared at her. “What? Why?”

“I’m hoping you can jog my memory. Nothing else has worked.” She glanced around to make sure they were completely alone ... one of those habits that wouldn’t die. “Apparently I recognized someone who shouldn’t have been there right before the explosion. Kenny said it was one of two guys we saw in the hallway before we entered the library. I was waiting for them to either follow us in or walk past the door so I could get a better look. But neither of those things happened before the explosion went off. I’ve looked at the surveillance videos we recovered but nobody stuck out who hasn’t been identified already. I’m sure you heard that some of the video feeds had been tampered with, and half the footage is nothing but static or blank.”

“Yeah, Ghost—Captain Bryson, who was on lead for my team for the mission—mentioned it a few months ago. Said they still haven’t figured out whohas the nuke. Whoever it is has gone silent, not even popping up on the Dark Web.”

“It’s driving the Deimos intel techs nuts. They’ve been searching for any sign of the nuke or Mr. Smith with no results. I’ve gone through all the available videos and still photos. I’ve spoken to every Deimos and Trident Security operative that was there. Hell, I even had the agency shrink hypnotize me. Nothing. It wasn’t the bastard that shot me, nor was it the guy I killed before we jumped out the window. We’ve identified both of them and gone through their known associates. Still, zilch. So, since you’re one of the few people I haven’t spoken to yet about that day, I was hoping something or someone you saw will help jog my memory. I remember leaving the ballroom, but after that, everything is just flashes of moments, nothing consistent.” However, those gorgeous eyes of his were one thing she hadn’t forgotten.

“I don’t know how much I can help since I was in the jungle for most of it, but if you think it might work, okay.” He popped the last bite of his burger into his mouth, then pushed the plate of fries to his right. Resting his elbows on the table, he swallowed, then took a deep breath. “God, this is weird. It’s rare I can talk about a mission outside theDeltas—hell, I can’t even tell most people IamDelta—but I was told that you, and the rest of your agents, are cleared for intel sharing about that mission.”

She completely understood that. There were very few people in the world, who didn’t work for Deimos, she could discuss her assignments with.

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