Page 76 of Exit Strategy
“It does indeed, my fiery angel,” he said. “With the bum leg, I’m not super keen on going to the market, but there are plenty of apps that bring everything I could want right to me. And the house is registered under an LLC, so if you’re still concerned about security, you shouldn’t be.”
“You do seem to have a lot of guns,” Callie said.
“These, bah, these are trophies and prizes we’ve collected from the missions we’ve done. There are weapons and armor lockers scattered throughout the house and grounds; certain walls have been reinforced with steel plating so that anything less than a vehicle-mounted machine gun won’t penetrate them, plus the outer wall was seriously reinforced when we renovated.”
“Learned some lessons from the Escadrille?” I asked casually, muscles unknotting themselves the more my captain spoke.
“Indeed. I’m not going to lay out all of the house defenses, my good man, but be assured, they are impressive,” he said. “Better than the setup I had down on Bootlegger Head, and that almost stopped a triple alliance of cartels and organized crime syndicates before going up.”
“Bootlegger Head was a beautiful house.” Sadie sighed.
“Historically registered residence,” he said. “This place is nice, and upgrading it was easier, but there’s nothing special about it. It was built by some local shipping mogul, utilizing a local fancy architect imitating Hollywood and Beverly Hills – big windows, open space, and some surprisingly cheap building materials.”
I nodded, and Callie seemed to be hanging on to his every word.
“I’m digressing,” he said. “You really don’t want to hear about how this place had white pine flooring, and how I got rid of that mess. You’re still dressed to the nines and would probably like to get cleaned up and relax. Have a drink or two, enjoy each other’s company, and don’t worry about anything for a little while. I’ve got the best security this side of Fort Knox, and my drones are armed for parties of ten or more.”
I saw the beginnings of a smile creep across Callie’s face. She was hesitant, and I knew that she was worried, because admitting things might be okay was a good way to invite the universe to come give you a tap between the thighs, a reminder that everything was supposed to be terrible.
“I think that is a good idea,” Callie said. “You said there was a hot tub?”
“Indeed, I did.” He smiled. “Enjoy.”
23
Callie…
“Come with me,” I breathed and tugged on Kurt’s hand.
“What?” he asked distractedly.
“Come with me,” I repeated. He looked up from his phone and tossed it on the bed.
“Come with you where, Love?”
“The hot tub.”
“What?” he asked, frowning. “You serious?”
I nodded and he loosened his tie. We were back in our borrowed room and were supposed to be relaxing but all I could think about now was the clean smell of chlorine and the hot water soothing the tension out from around my spine. But I didn’t want to go alone. I wanted Kurt. I wanted to sit on his lap to keep my chin above the water and I wanted to feel his strong arms around me.
“I sometimes don’t understand the way you think,” he said but it was with a smile curving his lips.
I pulled mine down, trying to hide my smile and smarted off, “Well, I do have drain bamage,” I said. He laughed at that then stopped himself to check that I had meant to say it that way and at my giggle started laughing again.
“You are a treasure,” he said, shaking his head as though he marveled at me and it made me glow from the inside, like any time he praised me.
I tugged on his hand lightly and towed myself closer to him, tipping my face up for a kiss. He kissed me, and I closed my eyes and swooned into his chest. I couldn’t help myself. In all the time I’d been married to a big movie star, not once did he ever make me feel like it wasinthe movies.
No, that was Kurt – his hands on my hips, his lips against mine, making me lean in, one foot popping up off the ground like some ridiculous heroine in some ridiculous romantic movie. Except our story, as crazy as it was, wasn’t any sort of movie, it was our life. Maybe, someday, it would be a film. I mean, stranger thingshadalready happened.
He drew up out of my reach and I blinked up at him in surprise. His light blue eyes were heavy lidded with desire, and he murmured, “Keep at me like that, we’ll never make it to the hot tub.”
I smiled and giggled a little, and he traced a tendril of my hair that’d escaped my smart French braid off my forehead and behind my ear. His eyes bounced back and forth over my face as though he were memorizing every line and curve to paint it later. Which it struck me then, just how little I knew about Kurt Worthington… I mean, did he draw or paint? What did he do besides read?
“What?” he asked me as the realization chased across my mind behind my eyes.
“I just realized how very little I know about you,” I whispered.
