Page 42 of Code Name: Admiral

His expression turned serious, but not in a bad way. “I hope I am. So, got anything in mind?”

“To call you? Not yet, but I’ll think of something.”

“Uh-oh.” He laughed again and took my hand. “Come meet Bryar.”

After meeting Diesel, I wasn’t sure what to expect from his wife. And after meeting her, I couldn’t help but see similarities between her and Pershing. While she smiled and laughed easily, there was an underlying seriousness I hadn’t expected. It didn’t make me like her less. In fact, maybe it endeared her to me even more.

“I don’t think she knows yet,” I heard Pershing say, realizing I’d missed what he was responding to. That he was smiling when he said it, relieved me, given how angry I was with him when I learned he hadn’t told me Sarah was with the FBI.

“Knows what?” I asked, folding my arms but smirking.

“Your code name,” Diesel answered before Pershing could respond.

“Sage?” I blurted. “Wait. That really isn’t a code name.”

“Sage?” Pershing repeated.

“It’s what I told Lark, the barista at the coffeehouse, my name was. So, is there another one you’re referring to?”

“Cheshire.”

I raised a brow. “The completelymadcat? Does whoever came up with it—and it better not be you—think I’m crazy?” My eyes bored into Pershing’s.

“First, no, I didn’t come up with it. Second, the Cheshire cat is threatened by no one, maintains a cool, grinning outsider status, and is a cunning and intelligent provocateur who disappears in the blink of an eye.”

I laughed heartily. “Disappears in the blink of an eye,” I said under my breath. “That’s a good one.”

I had to admit, at least to myself, that the other things Pershing said struck a chord. While I agreed that by outward appearances people might think I was threatened by no one, I’d be willing to bet Pershing knew differently. I liked the cunning and intelligent part, and I supposed I did maintain a cool, grinning outsider status.

“I like it,” I announced. “A lot, in fact. So, who came up with it?”

“Me.”

I turned and saw Tank standing in the kitchen.

“As I said, I like it. So, thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He winked. I liked him too. Actually, everyone I’d met, they were all nice, friendly, and good at what they did. There were certainly no slackers in this group.

“Ready to eat?” Bryar asked.

“Yes!” I said, maybe too enthusiastically.

Pershing put his arm around me. “I bet you don’t know the last time you ate.”

I sighed. “You’d be right, and I’m suddenly starving. Plus, whatever it is smells great.”

“Cassoulet,” Bryar said, dishing some into a bowl. “I should’ve asked if you had any dietary restrictions.”

“None at all, actually. What’s in it?”

“Great northern and baby butter beans, chicken, sausage, and a bunch of vegetables. I toss in whatever looks good.”

I put my hand on my stomach when it rumbled.

“There’s also freshly baked bread and salad.” She motioned with her head to another counter.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Pershing said to her.

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