Page 58 of Love Undercover
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, she stirred. He slept only in snatches but the warmth of having her in his arms kept him content, even if he got little actual rest.
She must've been worried about Kyle catching them because she wordlessly pressed her lips to his and snuck back through the weighty darkness to the hallway.
Kyle had covered every window in his house with blackout curtains to keep it dark when he slept and to prevent prying eyes from getting the drop on him. He was a paranoid guy, having been in this game longer than he probably should have. Add to that the fact that he’d grown up on the streets of inner city Chicago, gotten blown up in the army by bombs in the middle east, and spent most of his time these days around thugs and mobsters, it made sense.
It was similar to why Chase had set himself up with the cabin. He needed an escape from that world to shake the grime before it perforated his soul and took root.
It wasn’t long after she left that he gave up on elusive sleep and got up, peeking out the curtain over the front window. Sunrise was leaking into the inky sky with a faint orange glow. His unease still shimmered inside him like the dying starlight.
Kyle would sleep a few hours more, and Chase hoped Sadie would as well. He should probably run to the gas station to fill up his car. There was no telling how quickly they’d have to get up and go as soon as Gibson had a place for them, and he was only a few gallons away from the light popping on. It didn’t hurt that he could take care of their barrier problem, which she’d unexpectedly reminded him about the day before, the reason behind it tumbling endlessly in his mind.
Because the need still simmered under his skin. The demand to feel Sadie in every possible way, especially after they’d lain together half the night on Kyle’s couch. That had felt more intimate than anything they could have done sexually. She had become more than just a physical thing though, not just a presence in his space, a reminder that he’d gone wildly off path.
He headed toward the back of the house and nimbly leapt from the top step to avoid the noise. He wanted to do this as quickly and quietly as possible, without alerting the others.
Kyle kept his garage remote clipped to his sun visor, and he left the car unlocked while it was parked inside. So it was a matter of opening the driver side door and snatching it so that Chase’s exit would be quick and easy.
He’d made a mental note about the nearest gas station on their drive in. It was only a mile or so down the road, which was convenient, considering his gas light blinked on right before he pulled in, confirming his earlier guesstimate.
The city was starting to come to life, the early morning workers already about their business, though he felt fairly confident about the hour being his temporary protection against the possibility of Santiago finding him. They’d be long gone from Kyle’s before Santiago could even think about where they were.
He might not even think Chase had sought out Kyle. He was way outside of the Spaniard’s circle. It was Casper, the man Kyle was set to meet later that morning, who’d been his actual connection point for Zim’s operations. He was a networking guy among these kinds of syndicates, the go-between for the various rings who sometimes worked together when need arose.
Chase was in and out of the gas station in a matter of ten minutes, the sky alerting him that the sun would soon blaze the remaining night away, and headed back toward Kyle’s.
Instead of going inside though, he took the opportunity to pound out enough of a workout to burn off some of the residual nerves that continued to fire off throughout his body. He knew Kyle wouldn’t mind and figured it would get his day started right.
When he came back inside, it was still dark and quiet, but the sense of time slipping by without traction chased away the relief the workout had given him. He took a quick shower and came back out to a slice of sunlight bursting from the small, boxed-in kitchen.
When he rounded the corner, he spotted Sadie at the stove, reaching to turn on a burner, a mixing bowl cradled in her arm.
It stopped him dead in his tracks to see her, barefoot and with her hair piled in a bun on top of her head. A mess of pancake mix was scattered on the counter, and he had that out-of-body experience again, like he was seeing another version of his life, and he couldn’t keep himself from moving in behind her to slide his hands around her waist.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, and he heard the smile in her voice, was soothed by how loose and relaxed she was in his arms.
He looked over her shoulder to inspect the pancake batter. “You’re breaking the kidnapper/kidnappee code.”
“What about the middle-of-the-night flight to protect the woman you kidnapped code? Surely there’s a caveat in that one that allows for me to make a thank-you breakfast?”
He huffed a laugh and forced himself to break away, moving to the sink as he snatched a paper towel, getting it wet so he could wipe the counter down. Kyle had never been a particularly fastidious guy, but Chase figured since they were trespassing on his begrudging kindness, they could at least make it feel less like they’d ever been there.
“Are you thanking me or Kyle?” he asked.
Her tongue slipped out between her lips as she carefully poured batter into the pan, the soft sizzle of heat permea ting the air. “Both.” She grinned at him, and his chest pinched.
A search through the cupboards and fridge yielded the cache of maple syrup and butter they’d want for the pancakes.
He set both on the counter and leaned back against it, bracing himself on either side. “How’s your ankle?”
Her brows furrowed, and she looked down at the offending joint like she’d forgotten it existed.
“A lot better.” “You want some?”
“Good.” Good because it meant she would be able to run if the need arose. Tension pooled in his gut at the thought. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
He busied himself with making coffee, knowing Kyle would want some, and wondered if their circumstances had gotten her to relax her standards at all.
She eyed the bag he scooped grounds from, her mouth twisting to the side, which told him she was wavering. “I’ll just have a sip of yours. To ward off a caffeine withdrawal headache.”
