Page 2 of Code Name: Atticus
“It’s Bronwyn. We’re married now, remember?” She stepped closer, enough for me to catch her scent. Whatever it was, was soft, sophisticated, and so fucking sexy it sent heat straight through me. When she moved, there was effortless control to every gesture, from the way her full lips curved into a smile to how she tilted her head, drawing my attention to her neck. “Though I have to say, this whole setup is deliciously ironic.”
“How so?” I asked, though my voice came out rougher than intended.
Her smile was all trouble. “The boy who followed every rule to the letter is now living a lie. And the girl who questioned everything is trusting you to keep her alive.”
Before I could respond, she rose on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “For practice,” she murmured against my ear, her breath making me desire things that would make my former roommate want to kill me. “We need to look convincing.”
Convincing. Right. As she pulled back, I caught the challenge in her eyes—the same one that had driven me crazy ten years ago. Except now, instead of wanting to argue with her, I longed to back her against the nearest wall and show her exactly how convincing I could be.
“Should we head to the house?” she asked when I finished my drink and was about to order another and see if she wanted to join me. “I’d like to know what six million dollars of taxpayer money buys these days.”
“Sure,” I said, digging a twenty out of my pocket to pay for a beer that would’ve cost a third of the price back home, which was saying something, considering how expensive everything was in the nation’s capital.
“Thanks,” the bartender said, not bothering to ask if I needed change.
“Holy shit,”I muttered when the driver of the car service we’d hired pulled up at the address Brenna gave him. Behind the fence that bracketed the entryway, there was a view across the bay to Angel Island.
“I know, right?” she said, punching a code into the keypad near the front door. I would’ve questioned the security setup of the place until I saw what we were actually dealing with. The keypad required both a complex rotating code and biometric scanning, while I counted at least three different camerastracking our approach with facial recognition software, which explained why the DOJ was comfortable using it as our safe house.
Once inside, the views took my breath away—both of Brenna and what lay outside the floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room. They framed a postcard-perfect vista stretching from downtown San Francisco’s glittering skyline to the Bay Bridge, with Treasure Island floating in the distance like some rich guy’s private yacht.
“Not a bad setup,” I muttered, forcing myself to focus on the strategic advantages of our elevated position instead of the way Brenna’s eyes lit up as she took in the dramatic stone fireplace dominating one wall.Get it together, Finch. She’s Luke’s little sister.If he had an inkling of what I was thinking, he’d murder me with his bare hands, then resurrect me just to kill me again.
Smart home controls lined every wall—panels that could adjust the lighting, temperature, music, and security with a touch. The living room had furniture that looked like it belonged in a modern art museum rather than a place where people actually lived.
“Jesus,” I muttered, staring at a coffee table that was apparently a single piece of polished obsidian. “Who decorated this place?”
“Welcome to Sausalito, where everything has to be sleek and modern, and comfort is an unnecessary extravagance,” she said, chuckling.
I wandered over to the kitchen, taking in the professional-grade appliances. The espresso maker alone probably cost more than my car. “Fair warning,” I said when she studied it like I was. “My coffee’s been classified as a biological weapon in three states. You might want to commandeer this baby.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
My eyes flared. “What kind of monster did your parents raise? Next, you’ll tell me you don’t believe in pizza for breakfast.”
“I save my vices for things that actually matter. Like tequila. And pizza in the morning is just Italian toast—so between that and this contraption that serves java in doll-sized portions, we could be considered appropriately cultured.”
“Right. We’re practically royalty. The Medicis would be so proud.”
I walked out to the deck, surprised how warm the day was already. The house sat on the water, one block from downtown Sausalito and the ferry terminal. Close enough to blend in with the affluent locals, yet with quick access to the city when our mission demanded it. Better yet, we were far enough from Silicon Valley that we wouldn’t accidentally bump into any tech execs at local overpriced bars unless they lived in Marin County.
We climbed the floating staircase to the second floor, where the primary suite took up most of the space. It alone was larger than my entire apartment in DC, complete with a fireplace, sitting area, and a bed that could sleep half my former unit. The private deck access meant discreet escape routes, but sleeping on the same floor as Brenna was going to test every ounce of my self-control.
“I’ll take one of the smaller rooms,” I said, returning to the hallway. Behind the first door I came to was an office a tenth of the size of the suite. The next one was bigger but was filled almost wall-to-wall with workout equipment. Maybe there were more rooms on the main level I hadn’t noticed.
“I don’t think there are any others,” she commented, peering into both spaces.
As we’d determined earlier, the sofas in the living room hardly looked comfortable. Not to mention, they were curved. One night trying to sleep on one of those, and my back would beout for months. “I can set up an air mattress in here,” I muttered, motioning to the office that didn’t have room for anything bigger than a twin.
“The equivalent of camping? For weeks?” She muttered something else that I didn’t catch as she walked away.
“What did you say?” I asked, knowing I should let it go, but too curious to.
“The bed looks big enough for an entire family to sleep in. A couple ought to be able to make it work.”
Couple.There went my mind again, wandering into territory marked “Danger: Best friend’s younger sister.”
“We wouldn’t even have to touch,” she said as we passed the suite on our way downstairs. “Unless we wanted to.”
