“He and Rivers are in Chicago.”
The word was a cold brick in her stomach, but she put extra effort into keeping her expression neutral.
She sliced into the tender pork and gathered a bit of stuffing on her fork but didn’t place it in her mouth. “When will they be back?”
“When they finish their assignment.”
She nodded as though that answered anything at all and gave up trying to pretend that somehow, in a short time, Rome hadn’t started taking over her thoughts.
The thought of Rome in Chicago sent ice into her veins. He could only be sent on assignment because of her.
What if those guys who chased them found him again? What if this time—
She cut off the rambling thoughts and pushed away from the table. Her throat felt strange, and she had to swallow more than once.
Chicago.
The city she called home always held danger. Living there, working there, she had to navigate it with the awareness a woman required when she was alone, and even when she wasn’t.
She wanted to ask what Rome and Rivers were doing there.
She wanted to sit across from Rome at this table while he devoured pork chops like his grandmother used to make, and she wanted to ask him if he ran into danger.
Dammit, she wanted to hear his voice.
She wiped down the counter and ordered herself to stop it.
One by one the men stood from the table, thanking her as they placed their plates in the dishwasher.
After they all filed out again, she was alone.
She looked around, wondering how to keep her mind off…well, everything.
She started pulling out ingredients for cinnamon rolls and placed yeast in warm water.
She needed something to keep her hands busy and her mind from running out of control. Working with dough was therapeutic, especially when she punched it down.
By the time she rolled out the dough and sprinkled it with sugar, cinnamon and nuts, she felt somebody staring at her.
She glanced up to see Jolie in the doorway. “You okay?” her friend asked.
Stina kept her attention on what she was doing. “Fine.”
“You’re stress baking. That doesn’t seem fine to me.”
She grunted in response.
Jolie crossed to the counter and stole a walnut. “Rome’s not back yet.”
She didn’t mean for her hands to pause but they did, hovering over the sweet treat. “I noticed.”
“He’ll be back.”
Stina smashed some nuts into the dough with a little too much energy. “I don’t know why it matters to me.”
Jolie watched her with an expression that meant she was weighing her reaction. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“I’m cooking to keep my mind off being trapped here.”
