Page 37 of The Wrecked One

“Pancakes? Are you kidding? Also, it’s you who grumpifies if you don’t eat.” My lip hitched at the side when it dawned on me he’d teased me. The man who wanted me goner-than-gone apparently made a joke.

Pivoting my way, he afforded me the chance to make out a smile he tried to cover with a wince. That quirk of his lips may have been accidental, but a win was a win.

Ice.

Walls.

Can.

Crack.

“Yeah, pancakes are needed.” A not-so-subtle throat clear later, he asked, “Because you don’t want me to grump-i-fy, do you?” He slowly enunciated my fake word, and that low, raspy tone should not have sent a rush of heat through my body, but it did. It also gave me hope yet again. Hope that I wasn’t completely broken, and neither was he.

“Can you really get any grumpier than you are now?” I challenged, and smirked when he went ahead and proved that, yeah, he could, scowling while motioning for me to scram. “Fine, I’ll eat your pancakes.”

I forced myself to break away from our staring contest, backing up a step. Not leaving the kitchen, I followed the protocol Gwen had taught me to safely get a message to her.

Me: I’m here, and he’s not happy about it. But he’s alive and looks okay.

I left out the part about his dad for now.

Gwen’s message came back quick and in code. I stared at the phone impatiently while I waited a few seconds for it to translate.

Gwen: Good. (Our security detail freaked when they found out you snuck out, though.) They called Carter. (Snitches.) Mason called me back and gave me an earful. Oh, he’s pissssssed. (Not a shocker.) Carter just said to let him know when you’re safe with Oliver, and when you need an exfil, assuming Oliver plans to kick you out, I guess.

Me: Tell them I’m most definitely safe, and I don’t plan to go anywhere. Keep me posted on their op, though.

Gwen: Will do. Tell Oliver we all miss him and need him back. Nothing has been the same without him here.

Me: Now to convince him of that. Thank you again for having my six.

I powered off my phone and placed it back on the table.

From the corner of my eye, I watched as Oliver opened the freezer and pulled out a bag of pancakes. “And here I was expecting them to be made from scratch.” I couldn’t help but go for round two of teasing.

“It’s this or granola. Take your pick, butter—” He cut himself off while setting down the bag of French mini pancakes, hung his head, and grunted at his near-slip of my nickname.

I’d give anything to hear him finish that sentence. To call me buttercup and feel a sense of normalcy again, even for a second.

Wild enough, I found myself desperate to run my fingers over the ridges of his arms, ask him to draw me into his secure embrace. Hug him like I knew he needed. But my trembling hands and fast heart rate made the decision for me, and I took two steps back instead.

“How do you know all of our identities were exposed?” We had to fill in the gaps of what we’d both been doing for almost four months at some point, and I wanted to get it over with. When he didn’t answer, I added, “It was all a trap. They took us as bait to draw out the others.”

Still not looking at me, hands firmly placed on the counter, he grated out a quick, “I know.”

“They were going to crash the plane. It’d been tampered with in Singapore. They planned to take all of us out.”

“I know.” Same tone. Same lack of emotion there, and it was maddening.

Was that really all he had to say? And how did he know?

“A hacker gave us the heads-up and saved our lives. They’ve helped us two more times since, but we don’t know why or who they are, just that they’re deep undercover.”

I folded my arms, waiting for him to give me the same response again, and when he did, I curled my fingertips inward, my frustration kicking up.

“We’ve been holed up in a new safe house but still playing offense, not just hiding out. We refused to surrender like they wanted. But our families are off-the-grid. We couldn’t risk their safety. And you know Carter already had Diana in that fortress in Dubai, so . . .” Carter’s identity had been exposed last year and blasted all over the media, so this wasn’t his first rodeo in protecting those he loved.

“But you’re okay with risking your life, is that it?” At least he gave me something other than, I know, but his harsh tone sent a chill whipping down my spine.

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