Page 87 of Hidden Attraction

“Oh? Drinking games?”

He chuckled. “More like oven-fired pizza.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Come on. Let’s see if we can snag a meat lovers one before the guys pig out. Oh, and I have a small surprise for you.”

Her smile was a sunbeam that brightened his day. Hell, who was he kidding? Alyssa lit up his entire life. After he grabbed the fastest shower in history, not wanting to waste a second away from Alyssa, they joined a few of the guys outside.

Chase led her directly to the outdoor kitchen. Smoke drifted lazily from the wood-fired oven, and the sun slanted low in the sky, casting everything in a golden hue.

He shouldered one of the guys out of the way to make room at the outdoor counter. In no time, flour dusted his forearms and T-shirt as he pressed dough into a rough circle. Alyssa stood beside him, her hands working more delicately—slower, but with a kind of grace that made Chase pause to watch her, even as the others bustled around them.

Steele was tossing dough into the air like some kind of show-off, while Dante called out mockingly, “You better not let that hit the ground, dude!”

Laughter rippled through the group, a rare moment of true peace in their constantly shifting world. Chase leaned into Alyssa with a smirk. “So, diplomat-turned-pizza chef. That’s a hell of a career shift.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “This might be my best negotiation yet. Trading policy briefs for pepperoni.”

Denver wandered over with a bowl of fresh basil. “No pineapple on mine,” he said, pointing a finger at Chase. “Don’t ruin a good thing.”

“No promises,” Chase muttered, tossing a few rogue slices on his half of the pizza just to stir the pot.

Alyssa smiled as she layered tomatoes and mozzarella, then leaned over to grab a drizzle of olive oil. Her elbow bumped Chase’s and she looked up, her eyes catching his. For a second, the rest of the world faded behind her gaze—behind the small crinkles at the corners of her eyes, the easy warmth he felt every time she looked at him like that.

Dante’s shout broke into the moment. “You two gonna cook or just stare at each other until the dough fossilizes?”

Chase barked a laugh and tossed a towel at him. “Keep it up and I’ll make yours with anchovies and regret.”

With pizzas finally assembled, the team took turns sliding them into the oven using the long-handled peel. Dante manned the fire like it was a tactical op, rotating the crusts with precision, while Steele passed out paper plates and cold beers from a cooler nearby.

They sat on mismatched patio chairs and low stone benches, plates in their laps, bites punctuated with laughter and teasing. For once, no one talked about Cypher, operations or safehouses. They talked music and movies, debated whether hot sauce belonged on pizza, and told stories that made Alyssa’s cheeks turn pink.

Chase watched her from the corner of his eye, the way her shoulders relaxed and how her smile lingered just a little longer than usual. He handed her a slice of the pie they’d made together.

“Taste test.”

She bit in, moaned softly, and gave him a slow, approving nod. “You might actually be good at this.”

He grinned. “Stick with me, baby. I’ve got layers.”

“Like a pizza?”

“Exactly.”

And as the sun dipped behind the trees and the fire crackled low, Chase couldn’t help but think—this, right here, might be the closest thing to peace they’d ever get.

“Chase? You’ve got a call.” Sophie’s voice rang out from the lift-and-slide door that opened the back wall of the mansion onto the patio, bringing the outdoors in.

Alyssa’s face blanked in worry, but he caught her hand and squeezed in reassurance.

“Come on.”

As they passed Sophie, he thanked her and continued through the house until he and Alyssa were alone in the conference room.

“What’s going on?” Her voice held a note of worry.

“You’ll see.” He pressed a button on the laptop to connect the video call. When the image of a woman popped onto the big screen, Alyssa let out a loud gasp.

---