Page 77 of Code Name: Harbor

“It’s not a big—”

“Who is it?” she demands, setting her cup down. “What’s his name? Where did you meet? Does he have a single brother?”

I want to spill everything. I’ve spent my adult life being trained to ferret out secrets and keep them held tight but now there’s this enormous bright fact in the center of my life and I badly want to set it down on a counter and let someone look at it with me.

“He’s—” I start, and then I don’t know how to finish it without saying too much, so I go vague. “He’s not the type of person I thought I would be with.”

“Nobody worth anything ever is.”

“He shows up, Caroline. He shows up for me in a way nobody really has. Maybe my dad. That’s the only person I can compare it to. He just… he sees what I need before I’ve finished deciding I need it, and then it’s there.”

Caroline’s grin softens into admiration. “That’s a hell of a thing to have.”

“Yeah.”

“So why are you on edge?”

I pick up my coffee so I have something to do with my hands. “It’s new. It’s complicated. There’s a lot riding on it and I just…” I shrug. “I want to make sure it’ll work before I go telling the whole world about it. That’s all.”

“So no one knows this mysterious guy?”

I don’t dare tell her Cole knows as she might go pecking at him for details and he’s promised to keep my secret too. But I admit, “My dad met him. Actually barged in on us one morning—”

“Oh my god,” she exclaims. “He caught you having sex?”

“No!” I laugh at the absurdity. “He caught us making breakfast, but we were only half dressed so I guess he inferred the prior sex part.”

“So embarrassing.” She chuckles, and I nod in agreement, the smile on my face indicative of my amusement at the situation.

She studies me for a beat, and I can see her wanting to push. “All right. I’ll stop digging. But for what it’s worth, Josie, you don’t have to have the whole thing solved before you let yourself enjoy it. Sometimes the working-it-out is the best part.”

“That’s annoyingly wise.”

“Former army. We’re wise and we’re annoying. It’s the brand. In fact, it should be on a patch.”

The door swings open before I can come back at her, and Reid’s eyes immediately go to the counter where Anna leaves her sweet treats. Brady Frost is a step behind him.

“Tell me those are the peanut butter cookies I heard everyone raving about,” Reid says, already crossing to the plate.

“That they are,” I confirm. “And don’t get me started on her snickerdoodles.”

“God bless Anna.” He takes three, stacks them like poker chips, and hops up onto the counter, his usual perch.

Brady doesn’t go for the cookies. He stops just inside the door, scans the room once out of habit—corners, exits, who’s where—and only then lets himself relax a fraction. He’s in plain clothes, a gray Henley and a jacket, nothing that says cop, which is the point.

The man is powerfully built, broad through the shoulders, with close-cropped dark brown hair and a strong jaw that tightens a notch whenever he’s irritated—which, in the same room as Caroline, is most of the time. His eyes are a sharp hazel and he always carries himself like a man who’s used to being the most capable person in any room. The only hint of anything soft in him is the smirk, which surfaces whenever he says something dry, like he’s daring you to take him seriously and betting you won’t.

Brady came to Jameson from the US Marshals after years of federal tactical work. He has a reputation for having nerves of steel, which is exactly why Malik tapped him for the job he’s been buried in ever since. He’s currently working undercover inside the Seattle Police Department to expose a ring of dirty cops. The background Jameson built him is airtight… a fabricated NYPD history, a service record salted with insubordination and a couple of convenient infractions, the precise résumé that makes corrupt men think they’ve found one of their own. They bought every word of it and pulled him right in.

Caroline’s whole posture changes the moment he enters the room. Her spine straightens an inch and her chin comes up and the easy warmth she had with me ten seconds ago goes crisp at the edges.

“You’re a long way from your undercover beat,” she says snidely.

And she makes a good point. Brady’s deep undercover, so why would he be here?

“Good to see you too, Prescott,” he says casually.

“I’m serious.” She uncrosses her arms. “You’re supposed to be buried. Aren’t you risking the whole thing strolling in here in broad daylight?”