Page 23 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

“Nothing like a hot shower to make a person feel more human.” She walked around him and into her bedroom. “I’m going to get dressed.”

“I’m thinking about braving your kitchen. Want some coffee?”

“Tea?”

“Can do.” He pushed away from the wall and trotted down the stairs.

She found something loose and comfortable to put on, pyjama pants and an old t-shirt, and trundled downstairs.

Smitty was in the kitchen, his head stuck in the fridge. “Hungry? How about an omelette?”

“That sounds so good right now.” She sat at the table and watched him pull out eggs, butter, and some vegetables. “The omelette pan is under the stove.” Something occurred to her. “Wait, didn’t you say you weren’t here to make omelettes?”

“Hey, a guy can change his mind, can’t he?”

“Not most of the time, but since you have three older sisters, I’ll let it pass without further comment.”

He pulled the pan out, threw in some butter, then opened cupboards until he found a bowl. “So,” he said casually. “Let’s review. You got shot at today.”

“You say it like you’re sure it was deliberate.”

“All I know is a bullet just about ended you. Have you pissed anyone off recently?”

“You know me as well as anyone. What do you think?”

He grunted. “Okay, give me the list.”

“The Sheriff and mayor are irritated with me. You know, about my little dynamite problem. A couple of oxycodone addicts got angry when I wouldn’t prescribe them their favorite drug. JD didn’t like my suggestion of going to detox. He told me to stick it where the sun don’t shine in the most creative way I’ve heard since I got home.” She shook her head. “But I can’t think of anyone who might have a reason to take a shot at me.”

Smitty didn’t say anything for a minute. He seemed to be concentrating on the omelette until he asked, “What about the military? Make any enemies there?”

“No one you don’t know about already.”

“Strange.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

He served up the omelette and she took a couple of bites.

“It’s got to be a mistake.”

“A bullet in the center of town is a hell of a mistake.”

She kept eating, the food settling a stomach she hadn’t realized was upset. “There’s no other reasonable explanation.”

He snorted. “When have human beings ever been reasonable?”

She considered his question. “I have no response to that.”

“Continuing our review, you’ve been home thirteen weeks and have been tossing dynamite into an innocent lake for what, three months?”

“Give or take a day. But, the lake isn’t innocent. The old town of Bandit Creek is at the bottom of it, as well as an awful lot of gold, if you believe the stories JD tells.”

“Right, the drunk homeless guy.”

“We’ve had this argument before.”

He leaned across the table, his gaze trapping hers. “Why are you trying to blow yourself up?”

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