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“You hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat,” she replied.
“I had Kyle go pick us up Indian food—it’s the only thing open this late.”
She scoffed at that. “I’ll let you taste test it first.” He chuckled. “I’m going to shower before we eat.”
“I think I’ll do the same,” he told her.
Their gazes met in the window. “Unless you want to shower with me?” he asked. “No? Can’t say I’m not going to continue to try.” Then he shrugged and left the room.
Ava made her way to the window where Holland had put her pack. She stepped from a lovely living room into a decadent bedroom. The bed was the dominant feature, easily the length and breadth of the far wall, sitting up on a dais. Solid wood, it looked like it took a hundred men to move it in here.
Her pack was on a leather chair beside the bed and she unzipped the main compartment and wanted to kiss Melody when she saw fresh underwear, sports bras and clothing. In the smaller compartments there was soap, shampoo and conditioner, a razor and a toothbrush. Ava took those things into the bathroom.
If the bedroom was decadent, the bathroom was otherworldly. There was a two-person clawfoot tub and a separate shower. The vanity had two sinks, and mirrors covered the entire surface of the wall above the sinks.
She vowed she’d get a chance to soak soon and took off her clothes. She stepped into the shower and fell in love with the rainwater feature. She soaped, shaved, and washed and conditioned her hair before reluctantly turning off the hot water. Then she dried off with towels that were thicker than any she’d ever seen. She’d come from money—her dad had been independently wealthy before going into the service—so she knew luxury, but Cap’s penthouse took it to a whole new level.
Mercenary work must pay really well.
Stepping into the bedroom, she saw Cap standing at his dresser. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that. What was wrong, but oh-so-right, was how he was dressed.
He quite simply…wasn’t.
He wore a towel wrapped low on his hips clearly delineating that sexy line under his obliques. His chest was defined, heavy pecs flowing into a six pack. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from drooling. He had a light mat of hair on his chest, silky and dark as the hair on his head.
He lifted his arms to dry his hair with another towel and she almost lost it. His arms were roped with taut muscles and they moved under his skin beautifully.
“Like what you see?” he asked.
Damn it.
“I never had a problem with the view,” she tossed out.
He rifled through the dresser drawer pulling out some boxer briefs and she looked away. It was simply too personal to be standing there with a nearly naked Cap while he held his underwear.
She beat feet away from the tableau and headed toward the living room.
“Chicken,” he called after her.
Yes. Yes, she was.
Kyle stood glaring at her as she entered the living room. Kyle she ignored, but Holland and Scope were sitting at the table inhaling food so she made her way to them.
She knew these men, but Kyle was an unknown. Cap called her a kid. Ava wasn’t so sure about that. She was acting proprietary when it came to Cap. Not that Ava cared.
Yeah. Yeah, she did.
Holland handed her a takeout box and without even looking at the food she dug in and started to eat.
Silence was the name of the game. Even when Cap entered the room and sat to eat, everyone was silent. Thank God the food was good, and she didn’t have to choke it down. She’d eaten some pretty sketchy food the last couple of years. Being on the run wasn’t conducive to good eating.
“How’d you afford it?” Holland asked.
Ava looked at him and took a swallow of her Coke. “Afford what?”
“To be on the run as long as you were,” he said.
