Page 16 of Code Name: Atticus
I folded my arms and looked away, hating that he was right, hating more that I felt like a kid being scolded. But I couldn’t argue. I had said things to Emma that would’ve blown our cover. It didn’t matter how unlikely it was that we were on anyone’s radar yet. I needed to be more careful. “I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“Sausalito is a small community. We’re new residents and wealthy ones at that. Moving into a multimillion-dollar house definitely attracts attention. Christ, it was part of asset forfeiture. That alone raises questions for anyone paying attention.” He pulled out his phone and showed me an app I didn’t recognize. “Secure communications suite. Encrypted, untraceable, and monitored for any potential breaches.”
The DOJ had arranged for a fictitious title to be transferred in the names of Atticus and Bronwyn Nolan, along with a money trail that would show we’d bought it, if anyone looked. But that wasn’t the point.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the house.” He held my hand, weaving our fingers together and doing a far better job of acting the part we were playing than I was.
After we’d gone a few feet, he let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, then stopped walking. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry for being so harsh. I was worried about you.”
Warmth spread throughout my body. Had he been? Because of the mission? Because I was his friend’s younger sister? Or because he cared about me in a different way?
Once we were inside, I asked to see the interface again. “How often do you have to worry about this level of surveillance?”
“Every mission. But this one’s different.” His expression hardened. “Most criminal networks we infiltrate are focusedon immediate threats—law enforcement, rival organizations, territorial disputes. This group is actively hunting for intelligence operatives. They’re on the lookout for people exactly like us.”
The implications crystallized. “The social events aren’t just recruitment opportunities.”
“They’re counterintelligence operations. Every couple they evaluate, they’re also screening for potential law enforcement,” he said, leaning forward.
“Which means our performance tomorrow night has to be flawless.”
“More than that. It has to be authentic.” He met my eyes. “The kind of chemistry and intimacy that can’t be faked, because these people’s lives depend on recognizing deception.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me. To successfully deceive sophisticated criminals, I’d have to stop deceiving myself about the depth of my feelings for him.
“We need to establish protocols,” I said, taking charge of my investigation’s security requirements. “All mission-related conversations happen in the house after security sweeps. Personal calls that even touch on work go through encrypted channels.”
“Agreed,” he said, stepping closer. “And we assume someone’s always watching when we’re in public.”
“Starting now?”
“Starting now.” He took my hand, and his fingers tightened around mine. “Stay close, wife. From now on, you and I are together. Never alone. Got that?”
“Got it,” I murmured, wondering how in the hell I was going to get through the next few hours, let alone however long this investigation took.
ATTICUS
An hour later, I was standing in the walk-in closet, trying to decide between two shirts, when Brenna emerged from the bathroom in a black wrap dress that made my mouth go dry. The fabric clung to her curves without being obvious about it, and the way it tied at her waist emphasized everything I’d been trying not to notice.
“Too much?” she asked, catching me staring.
“You look like you could buy and sell half of Silicon Valley before your morning coffee.”
She smoothed the dress over her hips. “What about you? Which shirt says ‘successful cybersecurity consultant who married up’?”
I held up both options—navy blue and charcoal gray—both with ties draped over the shoulders. “Navy makes me look like I’m testifying before Congress. Gray might be too casual for the tech elite.”
“Navy. But lose the tie. We’re newlyweds in Sausalito, not attending a Senate hearing.” She stepped closer, her fingers brushing mine as she took the shirt. “We should synchronize our story details before we’re in public.”
“Sure. Where do you want to start?” I asked, capturing her wrist and wishing I could wrap my arms around her the same way the dress was.
“Your best man was your college roommate from Georgetown. My maid of honor was my law school friend Emma.”
“Right. Keep it simple.” I released her arm and stepped back. “Ready to see if we can fool the locals?” I held out my arm and escorted her to the staircase, then once we reached the main level, led her outside.
“We’re walking?” she asked.
“Uh…”
