“You take this job real serious, don’t you?”
“Haven’t lost a VIP asset yet.”
Riley grabbed his helmet and plopped it on his head. He got out of the SUV and did another glance up and down the street. Still nothing to set off alarm bells. Just a quiet night in a sleepy town.
He circled the vehicle and opened Erin’s door. She moved slower still, probably from days of exhaustion and fear. She’d collapse soon, and he wanted her inside when that happened.
“How about something to eat and a shower?” he asked.
“That sounds amazing. These clothes stink.”
“Well, we’ve got something for you to wear if you want a change.”
“Let me guess, its green with pockets all over?” She glanced at his gear.
“You’d look good in green.” He grinned. “Nah, just some yoga pants and t-shirts. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.”
“It’s a step up from what I’m wearing now.”
“What about injuries? You okay?”
“Some bruises.”
“Well, there’s a cream for that.”
“Do you have a line for everything?” She chuckled.
“No, but I made you laugh.” That meant something in his book. She hadn’t yet smiled, but he was getting there.
Riley guided Erin into the house and through the back into the kitchen. If she didn’t have any injuries, the next important thing was getting her hydrated and fed.
The others were still going over security measures, but it was obvious Riley was on asset duty.
“Here, sit. Let me get you some water. Hungry?” He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and slid it across the dining table to her. She’d sipped the other dry during their drive instead of gulping her fill. Erin clearly knew what she was about.
She eased herself onto the chair at the head of the table and took the water.
“You don’t have to do all that,” she said.
“Actually, it’s my job.”
“Riley?” Brenden stepped into the room. He’d stripped off most of his tactical gear and had his hands out. He glanced at Erin and gave her a little nod. Riley had assumed that given Brenden’s POW experience he’d have an affinity for Erin’s situation, but as of yet he’d barely acknowledged the woman’s presence.
“Thanks, man.” Riley handed over his rifle and the rest of his kit, shedding well over fifty pounds in gear.
Now that he could move freer, he spent a moment scrubbing his hands and arms at the sink before diving into the fridge to see what they had to offer.
“Looks like our options are some kind of soup and a lot of grilled stuff.” He picked up the soup to start with. The broth would be easiest for Erin to try first before moving on to the denser foods.
“What about everyone else?” Erin gestured through to the next room where Grant was no doubt calling Melody to make his report back to Zain and the client.
“Looks like I’m on KP. They’ll come get food when they’re ready. Eat whatever you want now before those guys get here. They’ll inhale it all.” Riley grinned, determined to put on a positive front.
Erin continued to watch him with a befuddled expression that only got more pronounced by the minute. When he finally placed a bowl of soup in front of her, she seemed well and truly flummoxed. He couldn’t figure out why. She wasn’t in a hole in the ground. They were headed back to safety. He’d have thought she would be relieved.
“What’s that face for?” He leaned his elbow on the back of a chair. “My heating skills not up to par?”
“I’m just...amazed. You rescue damsels in distress, you think about the little people, you cook—what else do you do? Do you have brothers? And my God—are those your real eyelashes?”
Shit.
Riley ducked his head and heat crawled up his neck.
Those damn eyelashes.
“Do you like them? I put them on just for you.” He glanced at Erin and grinned.
She shook her head. At least she was asking questions unrelated to the last few days.
“I do have brothers. Three, in fact, but they’re all trouble. Every one of them. Well, I guess my cop brother isn’t all that much trouble. The others? Pure hell. Now, I don’t see any damsels in distress around here, but if you do, signal us and we can make sure she’s rescued.” He was willing to bet she had a plan to get away given the opportunity.
He winked, and she chuckled. He was growing to like the sound of her good humor. She wasn’t as tense. He wouldn’t say she’d relaxed, but it was a start.
“Do you want to call your family? Work? Anything before you pass out?” He checked the rest of the food heating in the oven.
“God—do they know?” Erin groaned.
“We don’t communicate with family unless the client asks, so I can’t answer that question.”
“Can you find out if they know?” She squinted up at him. “My mom is going to kill me if she finds out.”
“She doesn’t like you over here?”
“My mom? No. Her parents left Iraq when she was a teenager. A very rebellious, headstrong teenager, and she’s never been interested in coming back. If she had her way, I’d be like my sister. Married with three kids and a fourth on the way.” Erin leaned back and folded her arms over a very lean stomach.
“Sounds like my mom.” Riley shook his head. “She sends me pictures of the girls I went to high school with, keeping me updated about who they broke up with.” He shook his head. Those girls were nice, but they weren’t for him. He could never be the man they wanted.
“It’s sweet, but isn’t it the worst?”
“Yeah, and those poor girls. The pictures she sends me? She’s clearly stalking them at the grocery store to snap them.”
“Seriously?”
“I wish I was kidding.” Riley held his hands up.
“I can’t decide if that’s hysterical or the most embarrassing mother ever.”
“Oh, that’s not even embarrassing. You want embarrassing? My brother had a girlfriend for a couple months. Mom really wanted them to get married, but...what I remember of this girl?
