Page 51 of Shadow Undercover

As soon as his lips pressed against hers, Bridget melted against him. Good grief. The chemistry between her and the handsome operative was combustible. She felt as though she would go up in flames any minute.

When the movie resumed, Trace eased back and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

To her surprise, the combination of his body heat and the tea made her feel drowsy. That coupled with the fact she felt safe with him. Was Ruth safe? She pushed that thought aside and gave herself permission to rest, even if all she did was catnap. Bridget couldn’t help Ruth if she didn’t sleep or eat enough to function. She’d be more of an asset to Trace and the others if she could think and reason. Her sister’s life might depend on it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When the credits rolled at the end of the movie, Trace glanced down at the woman sleeping against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and turned down the television volume. The sun would rise soon, and Shadow and the Fortress installation team would be here in a few hours.

Trace settled deeper into the cushions and leaned his head back against the couch. Ben would make an appearance before long.

He should wake Bridget and send her to bed. She’d be more comfortable. He was reluctant, though. Trace liked the feel of her head against his chest, his arms full of this soft, warm woman.

He grimaced. Yeah, he was allowing Bridget under his skin way too fast. Couldn’t seem to help it. She attracted him on every level.

Those thoughts didn’t help. He turned his attention to the problem of locating Ruth. No one could stay off the grid for long. Even if Hugo had been out of sight for the past two weeks, he had a business to run. One glimpse of Hugo and Fortress would have him.

With that in mind, he fired off a text to Zane. His friend might not be awake this early, but he’d see the text as soon as he woke and get back to Trace. With Bridget lending a hand with research, they’d locate Hugo and gather intel on his hideout faster than depending on Zane alone. The rest of the researchers at Fortress were good, no question. They weren’t Zane’s caliber, though. So far, the only one to come close was Bridget and that was without full access to the Fortress databases and search engines. He couldn’t wait to see what she could do with training and access.

A few minutes later, Ben came down the stairs. His gaze shifted to Bridget and his lips curved. He signaled that he had the watch and went to the kitchen, probably to brew more coffee.

Trace fished out his phone and sent another text, this one to Nico, asking his team leader to bring breakfast. He didn’t know what food Bridget had in her kitchen, but it wouldn’t be enough to feed a team of operatives.

Nico acknowledged the text and said to expect him and the others within the hour.

Trace allowed himself 45 minutes to nap. He woke, fully alert, and glanced at his watch. Time to get moving. His teammates would arrive soon.

He rubbed Bridget’s arm to bring her back to the surface. He smiled when she opened her eyes. “Good morning.”

“I used you for a pillow again. I’m sorry, Trace.”

“I’m not. I enjoyed holding you. My teammates will be here in fifteen minutes.”

She rose. “I’ll return in a few minutes. Don’t discuss anything important with Ben and the others while I’m upstairs.”

Trace held up his hand as though taking an oath. “I promise. Do you mind if I use Ruth’s shower?”

“Of course not. Ben’s welcome to do the same.”

“Thanks. I’ll let him know.”

She hurried upstairs.

Trace walked into the kitchen in search of coffee. Ben handed him a mug filled with steaming black liquid.

“Tell me you measured the coffee grounds this time.” Ben gave him an unrepentant grin. Great. Maybe he should wait until Nico arrived with the food before drinking Ben’s infamous sludge.

He scowled at his friend. “Bridget offered us the use of her sister’s shower.” He took a sip and grimaced. Yep, just as bad as ever. “I’ll take the watch if you want to shower first.”

“I won’t be long.” Ben set his mug on the counter and loped off.

When the EOD man was out of sight, Trace dumped the contents of his mug and the pot down the kitchen drain and prepped more. He liked his coffee strong, not lethal.

By the time the brewing cycle finished, the doorbell rang. Trace palmed his weapon and checked the peephole. Putting his Sig away, he opened the door to admit Nico, Joe, and Sam, all loaded down with bags of food.

He inclined his head toward the back of the house. “Kitchen’s through there.”

“How is Bridget?” Sam asked.

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