Page 81 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
Liam looked just as bad. The two of them were bleary-eyed and hollowed out from working nine hours straight with no real break. Thewomen had pushed food and coffee in their faces every so often, but at this point, they were running on fumes.
“I napped this afternoon, so you need to get one. Go to bed,” Rowan groaned as he stretched. “You’re a wounded baby, and sleep will do you good.”
“Fuck you.” Liam shuffled through folders, his frustration mounting. “Where’s Sinclair’s family file?”
There was no known connection between Sinclair and Carroll. No thread linking them to Parker, either. Three dangerous men from three separate paths.
And none of them connected to CeCe except for Carroll. Anderson was still chasing down Sinclair’s military history. They had details from the bombings, but for nearly a year, there was nothing. No paper trail. No record.
“Nurse Jamison is here,” Jamison announced, stepping into the media room with a shoebox in her arms. The house was quiet at almost midnight, and hearing her voice startled them both. “I read that we’re supposed to clean your stitches twice a day.”
She sat in the chair next to Liam, meticulously unpacking her supplies. “I think I’ve got everything.”
Liam watched her intently, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Going to patch me up?”
“Cleanup the patch.” She pushed his sleeve higher. “Your girlfriend, Holly, did great work.”
Rowan rolled his neck, his body stiff. He needed a breather. Maybe a fresh hit of caffeine.
And Annabeth.
She’d disappeared over an hour ago. Hopefully sleeping in her own bed, safe and warm.
“Is Annabeth awake?” he asked.
Not looking away from Liam’s stitches, Jamison snickered. “Ready for your twenty minutes?”
God, she was never going to let him live that conversation down. “I told you to forget about that.”
“Mm-hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Too bad because I told her about it, and she was very interested.”
Rowan was standing before he realized it.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Jamison continued sweetly, “with a bottle of wine and the idea that you two are going to look at the stars.”
He was on his feet before she finished speaking. “Seriously?”
Jamison smirked. “Everyone’s asleep, and a fresh guard rotation just started. You couldn’t ask for better timing.”
He needed to stay focused. There were still leads to follow and threats to assess. But thinking about Annabeth naked and bouncing under him as he fucked the hell out of her had his cock hardening to the point where he couldn’t see straight.
“I’ve got to set the security system to run a maintenance check.”
Rowan fumbled with his laptop. Where the hell was the override code? It had to be changed every twelve hours. Annabeth. He remembered using her name as the anchor.
Annabeth and… numbers?
“Fuck. I forgot the passcode.”
No—wait.
He had changed it before his nap.
The screen blinked, cursor waiting.
Annabeth McIntyre.
He would not smile. It was stupid and soft and borderline embarrassing, but for a split second, it made him feel human again. Like something inside him had clicked into place.
