Page 65 of Lethal Threat
But I feel a storm on the horizon. Hard times are coming.
Don’t they always show up?
I just don’t know what direction the storm is coming from. It’s a tug at the pit of my stomach. But right now as my fingers tingle with the urge to touch his shower-dampened hair, I’m going to ignore that tug.
“You make great coffee,” I say through a smile as I lift the mug again.
“You make great breakfast.” There’s a mischievous spark in his gaze.
The coffee suddenly makes me very hot.
Okay, not the coffee. The memory of Cole’s very talented mouth in some sensitive places.
“Coffee isn’t the only thing you do well.”
He chuckles as he holds up a weird-looking piece of equipment.
“What’s that?”
“Night vision.”
“Sounds fun. Can we play with it?”
This time, the gaze he throws my way is downright destructive. My panties are the victim of a flood of creamy moisture.
“I’m willing to do anything with you,” he says as he watches my face turn red.
Uh hum. I need to change the subject. He’s working. “It was nice of Marshall to bring that gear by.”
“He wanted me to check everything out before we go into the field.”
I stretch and yawn. Raising my arms above my head makes my muscles protest. My body is deliciously sore. It would be even more so, but Cole cut me off at two orgasms last night and one today.
He glances my way as he puts the night vision equipment back into its case. “You feeling okay?”
I snuggle deeper into his flannel shirt, brushing my jaw against the collar. “I’m perfect.”
Things differ vastly from the last time I was in this kitchen. It is amazing how much things can change in twelve hours.
There are still many unanswered questions, but a night wrapped in his arms was a balm to my chaotic mind.
He holds my gaze for a second before he shakes his head, grins, and goes back to his work.
“What?” I ask.
“Just like seeing you in my shirt. In my kitchen.”
“Oh, really?” I tease.
“Suits you.”
Yes, it does. I grin and my heart squeezes as I sip from my mug.
Cole meticulously inspects all the gear in the duffel bag. He tries on everything. Checks the seams, the velcro, the gear loops. Inch by inch. Nothing escapes his attention.
His care with detail speaks volumes about how serious he is about his work.
“What’s all the body armor for?”
