Page 122 of The Wild Charge

She glanced up at Maggie’s entrance with a tired smile. “Morning. You want coffee?” She moved as if to rise.

Maggie waved her back down. “I’ll get it.” She leaned over the couch to rake her fingers through Ash’s curls. “Mama,” he babbled, smiling up at her, but seemed content to continue twirling Harry’s hoodie strings in his chubby fists. “Is Ghost in his office?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said, half-turning to regard her over his shoulder. “Ash was getting fussy, he said, and didn’t want to wake you, so he brought him out here.”

“And dumped him on you?”

“I don’t mind.” He was a sweet one, that Harry. “We’re good here, if you want coffee, or to go see Ghost.”

She gave Ash’s hair one last finger-comb, then raked her nails through Harry’s red hair. “Thank you, sweetie. I won’t be long.”

They would have a big breakfast later, probably, but for now she settled for coffee and a protein bar, and headed for the office.

Ghost wasn’t alone.

Their FBI expat was seated across from him, hair still damp from the shower, and he was wearing his prospect cut again. Interesting.

Their conversation cut off as she entered. Ghost looked up from his coffee. “Hi, baby. You get enough sleep?”

“Probably too much. I distinctly remember falling asleep in that chair.” She bypassed it this morning, in favor of dragging one of the smaller ones over to sit at the corner of the desk, beside Ghost.

“I thought you’d wake up when I carried you, but you were out cold.”

“You carried me? I wish Ihadbeen awake for that.”

He smirked and leaned over for his morning kiss, once she was settled in her chair. “Next time.”

“Big-talker. The first time you carry me in years, and I missed it.”

Maddox coughed, and she turned to find him glancing pointedly away from them, hands fidgeting in his lap, radiating awkwardness.

“I think we’re making your new prospect uncomfortable,” she said in a stage whisper.

Maddox blushed. “Oh, no – um, no…ma’am, I’m not – I’m not aprospect.”

“You’re not? But you look so handsome in your new cut.”

His blush deepened. “Um, well…”

“Mags,” Ghost warned, a threat of laughter in his voice.

“I’m just saying.” She sipped her coffee. “Okay, so, other than pawning our child off on poor Harry–”

“Hey, he volunteered.”

“–what are you up to this morning?”

“I was asking Maddox here about Agent Jansen, and he’s not been a lick of help.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know him.”

“He’s also sitting right here,” Maddox said, blush giving way to mild indignation. “And no, I haven’t ever met him. I only ever worked out of the Texas field office. It’s not like there’s just one FBI unit that moves around from city to city.”

“That’s a shame,” Ghost said. “Be better if there were less of you.”

“Hey, I quit. Don’t lump me in with the rest.”

“Jansen,” Maggie said, sipping her coffee and mulling it over. “Why does that sound familiar? I didn’t recognize him to look at,” she clarified, when Ghost and Maddox both shot her curious looks. “And it’s a common name, I know. But something…” She tapped her nails against her mug. She knew she’d heard that name before, or read it; some folded-back mental page was rustling, waiting for her to take hold and smooth it out. “Have you got Ratchet on it?”

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