Page 92 of Secret Weapon

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NINE

Alex had made me coffee.He’d actually made me coffee while I took a shower, and not only that, now he was standing at the kitchen counter with a knife in his hand.Instinct made me reach for the blade I’d slipped into my bra, but when he turned, I froze with my hand halfway to my chest.He was…cooking?There was a frying pan on the stove and a pile of fresh fruit on the chopping board in front of him.Well, this was weird.In my old world, equal opportunities had extended to the battlefield but not quite as far as the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you might be hungry.”

Ravenous, but I’d planned to take a sandwich and a banana to the Craft Cabin when I went to relieve Bradley.I’d spoken to Brooke as soon as I got back home, and she’d assured me everything was fine, just a little busy and she didn’t mind staying around to assist, but I was still annoyed that circumstances meant I’d had to ask for a favour.At least Bradley was helping rather than hindering—Brooke reported that he was assisting Paulo with his painting class and all the ladies adored him.

“I need to get to work.”

Alex scooped fruit into two bowls.“Really?And how does that fit with your cover story?”

“I’ll tell them the painkillers kicked in.”

“You can let Bradley fulfil his dream of working in a craft store for another half hour and eat breakfast.”

Next, Alex scooped slices of French toast onto two plates and drizzled honey over the top, and okay, my mouth watered.Maybe I could take fifteen minutes.

“It’s more like lunch.”

“We can compromise on brunch.”He waved a hand toward the dining area that opened off the kitchen.“Please, sit.”

He’d made me breakfast.

Part of me wanted to take a picture of the food the way Paulo always did, but then my brain switched back on and I told myself not to be so fucking stupid.Who would I show, anyway?

But I sat, and Alex set fruit and French toast and coffee in front of me, then fetched his own plate and slid onto the seat opposite.This was way, way out of my comfort zone.In fact, I half wished we were back at the cabin in the woods.I knew how to deal with assholes.I’d become somewhat of an expert, seeing as I’d spent my whole life practising.Yes, I’d become adept at fitting into different social situations too, at faking my way through whatever I needed to do to survive, at wearing many, many different masks, but somehow, this was different.This was just me and the man who’d saved me from hypothermia half a lifetime ago, and for some reason that I didn’t quite understand, I didn’t want to lie to him.

A novel concept, and a foreign one.

But what should I do?Was it better to bullshit or to say nothing at all?

I took a bite of the French toast, and it was unexpectedly edible.

“This is good.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Historically, the men in my life have struggled to open a can of fish.”

General Zacharov hadn’t placed much emphasis on culinary skills, and at Base 13, we’d had a cook, a miserable woman named Olga who put cabbage in every single dish.Even Vik, who was good at everything, had set fire to the kitchen once.

“Want me to make you a fish salad?”

Alex was joking, but I still shook my head.

“I never want to eat another fish salad as long as I live.Or anything containing cabbage.”

“No cabbage?Damn, I was planning to make shchi for dinner.”

Another joke, but my heart still threw out a palpitation.“You’re staying for dinner?”

Now his smile faded.“I don’t know yet.But if I can’t, then when I come back, I’ll cook you something with no fish or cabbage.”

Alex’s phone vibrated its way across the table, and he glanced at the screen.

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