No surprise. He probably wouldn’t lift any. Fortress would be lucky to find Carstairs before he struck again.
CHAPTER SIX
Rowan unlocked the outside door to her apartment over the coffee shop. Before she could step inside, Brent laid his hand on her shoulder to hold her in place.
“Let me check your apartment before you go inside,” he murmured.
Her gaze dropped to the doorknob she’d had to unlock with her key. “Why? The door was still locked.”
“Let me check first, then I’ll explain.” After nudging her to a position against the wall by the door, he slipped into her apartment.
Rowan listened for any sound that might indicate Brent was confronting an intruder, but heard nothing. Then again, with the silent way the Fortress CEO moved, she’d be surprised if she heard much of anything from him.
An intruder, on the other hand, couldn’t be as skilled as Brent. Based on the noises coming from Heather’s phone at the start of the attack, the men who took Alexa weren’t trained like the Fortress people.
Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t believe her sister was gone. It was just her and Alexa now. How was she going to raise a child on her income and with her hours? She worked full time and didn’t know a thing about being a mother.
Rowan blew out a breath, blinking back the moisture. She’d figure out the details of her new life. Lots of single mothers worked full time and raised a family. The first step was bringing Alexa home. Everything else would work itself out in time. The one thing she knew for sure? Alexa would never wonder whether Rowan loved her and wanted her.
Brent returned and motioned for her to come inside. Good thing, too. Rowan was starting to spook herself out here in the darkness. She needed better lighting at the door, doubly important now that she had Alexa to protect. “Find anything amiss?”
He shook his head and grabbed the bag he’d left at the door. After he locked the door, he set his bag against the wall.
Rowan dropped her purse on the side table. “Would you like some coffee or a soft drink?” She stopped, eyes widening. “You must be starving. We didn’t have a chance to eat.”
“I am hungry,” he admitted. “What about you?”
She wrinkled her nose, shook her head.
“So you’re one of those.”
“One of those?”
“One of those people who don’t eat when dealing with an adrenaline rush. Some of my operatives exercise until they drop to burn off the energy. Others eat. Still others listen to music. Then there are folks like you who can’t eat until the adrenaline bleeds off.”
“When will that happen?”
“Sometime in the next hour or so.” Brent brushed back some strands of Rowan’s hair clinging to her cheek. “When that happens, you may be too tired to eat.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Do you have eggs and bread?”
Her mouth gaped. “You’re expecting me to cook for you?”
He chuckled. “Actually, I was going to cook for both of us. If you can eat anything, it’s likely to be comfort food.”
“Don’t you need something more substantial?”
“I’ll be fine. Now, do you have the eggs and bread? If not, I’ll run out and buy some.”
“I have both.” Luckily, she’d made a trip to the grocery store two days ago and hadn’t been home long enough yet to eat anything she’d bought, a hazard of working long hours as a small business owner.
“Excellent. Go change into something comfortable while I work on the eggs and toast. Take your time.”
She reached up and cradled his face between her palms. “Thank you, Brent.” Rowan kissed him lightly and stepped back.
Brent caught her upper arms. With excruciating slowness, he brought her back, cupped the nape of her neck, and tilted his head toward her. His lips captured hers.
Oh, man. The combination of gentleness and confidence turned her to mush. This man with rapier sharp combat skills was treating her with the delicacy of spun glass. Was this normal behavior for him with a woman or was this gentleness in deference to Heather’s death? Whichever it was, it worked for her.
His tongue brushed her bottom lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. When she sighed and shifted closer, giving in to his request, Brent wrapped his arms around her and eased her against his chest.
By the time he released her, Rowan’s head was spinning. Good grief, Brent Maddox had serious skills.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he murmured.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Ever since I set eyes on you a year ago in the coffee shop.”
She scowled. “Why didn’t you do something about it before now?” A year? This guy was a Navy SEAL. He couldn’t have been afraid of her.
Without answering her question, Brent gently turned Rowan and nudged her toward the hallway. “Go change, baby. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re finished.”
“But you don’t know where anything is.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Taking him at his word, Rowan went to her room and closed the door. She leaned against the wooden surface. Oh, goodness. What was she going to do? Brent could be dangerous to her heart. He was special. Special enough to risk her heart? Time would tell.
She hurried to her dresser and pulled out a comfortable pair of jeans and her favorite Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt. Rowan glanced at the closed door. The food preparation would take a few minutes, long enough for her to grab a quick shower. After being at work since four this morning, she felt grungy.
Minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and dressed. After tying on her running shoes, Rowan walked to the kitchen. As soon as she stepped into the room, Brent turned.
His gaze took her in damp hair and her sweatshirt. “We might have a problem, sweetheart.”
Her muscles tensed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m a Philadelphia Eagles fan.”
She shrugged. “We’ll have a lot of fun ribbing each other when my Cowboys stomp your Eagles.”
“I’ll be sure to send you flowers in sympathy when your boys lose.”
