“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he hurriedly began to scoop scrambled eggs, potatoes, and ham into the containers.
Remembering what she’d said at the diner about healthy eating, he added some freshly diced cantaloupe and honeydew, too, and opted for whole-grain toast over a bagel and cream cheese
“Good, I think,” he answered honestly.
“Where’s Bree?”
“At the trailer. I’m just grabbing some food to take back.”
Church frowned. “You left her alone in your trailer?”
“She said she didn’t think she was fit to be seen in public after last night.”
Smoke grunted. “You showed her your telescope, didn’t you?”
Doc smirked. “Yeah, he did. Both of them, I bet.”
Cage felt the heat rising in his neck, even as Church’s frown deepened.
“Do you think that’s wise? Leaving her in your place, unsupervised?”
“Everything’s secure.”
Church’s lips thinned. “I hope so.”
Slightly unsettled by Church’s lack of confidence, Cage gathered the food and coffee and hurried back to the trailer.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bree
For a guy’s place, it wasn’t bad. Clean but cluttered with tech and components. What would have normally been a living area looked more like a tech warehouse. It made sense, she supposed, since he was the IT guy, but it also made an interesting contrast to someone who liked swimming in lakes and sleeping under the stars.
As badly as she wanted to get a shower, her curiosity was piqued. She wanted to know more about the man who’d given her such a unique and memorable experience. He was a string of contradictions. Shy yet passionate. Geeky yet rugged. Despite how different their lives were, there was this underlying sense of connection she couldn’t explain.
After a quick check out the window to ensure he wasn’t right outside, Bree started poking around. She wasn’t sure how far his trailer was from the main building, but she figured she had a few minutes at least.
“Snoop now, shower soon,” she murmured to herself. Bonus: if she was still in the shower when he returned, perhaps she could convince him to join her. One more for the road, so to speak, since her time in Sumneyville was quickly drawing to a close.
The thought was disappointing. For the first time since she’d arrived, the idea of returning to San Diego didn’t fill her with anticipation. Who would have thought a week could pass so quickly?
Nick’s bed was neatly made. His drawers held cotton T-shirts, jeans, flannel—all folded with precision. No less than a dozen Bankers Boxes were stacked in short towers, clearly labeled in legible, block letters. She opened a few, verifying the accuracy of the contents—or at least, she tried to. Most of the stuff was unfamiliar to her, but it looked impressive. She did recognize a box of small, mountable surveillance cameras and wondered again if they’d had problems with people trespassing.
On the table was more tech in various states of assembly—does he build his own stuff?—and half a dozen laptops and monitors lined up on a workspace, which was created from more boxes and inch-thick wooden planks. Some screens were blank; others appeared to be on but in sleep mode. On impulse, she tapped some keys and found them all to be digitally locked and secured.
After giving the place a quick but thorough once-over, she had no deeper insight. There was nothing to indicate that he was anything more than what he’d said he was.
Feeling an odd sense of relief that she didn’t quite understand, Bree extracted her phone, set it atop one of the wireless chargers lying around, and went into the bathroom to shower. The stall was on the small side, which didn’t bode well for shower sex, but she did appreciate the hot water and the scent of his soap. A unique, heady mix of sandalwood and pine, it was already ingrained in her sensory memory—an exclusive association with Nick.
She tamed her riotous hair into a ponytail and, after a brief internal debate, swiped one of his T-shirts and a pair of drawstring sweats. It was presumptuous perhaps but preferable to putting her horse-scented jeans back on until she absolutely had to.
Clean and absurdly comfortable, she pulled out her journal. Her hand flew over the page as she jotted down notes in her abbreviated shorthand, images and observations and emotions flooding her mind, unwilling to be lost. None of the personal details would be included in the article, of course, but the raw beauty and connection with nature was part of the healing magic of Sanctuary, she was coming to realize. After leisurely riding a horse along the trails, sitting on an overlook to watch eagles and hawks, and sleeping under the stars, she was feeling pretty rejuvenated herself. The screaming Os hadn’t hurt either.
Before long, Nick returned, balancing two covered plates and two ginormous cups of coffee. He scanned the space, his expression one of relief when he spotted her. Had he expected her to bail?
His relief changed to amusement when he saw what she was wearing. Amusement and ... a flash of heat?
“I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed some of your clothes,” she said, rising to take the cups from him.
“Not at all. But I’m thinking I should probably get a shower, too. Go ahead and get started before it gets cold. I’ll just be a minute.”
He didn’t have to tell Bree twice. Whether it was the mountain air, as he’d suggested, or the heart-pumping activities they’d engaged in, she was absolutely ravenous. Since the table was filled with expensive-looking components and she was unwilling to take the chance of spilling anything on them, she settled onto the floor. A flipped-over, empty cardboard box provided an excellent makeshift table.
True to his word, Nick’s shower was a quick one. She’d barely started on her breakfast when he
