Page 25 of Missile Strike

“Take your time,” he hollered back, then gave a mental shrug. If she was going to leave him waiting down here alone, he’d gather a little intel about this grown-up version of the girl he remembered.

The living room didn’t tell him much. White walls, a gray sofa, a pair of matching side chairs, and a rectangular coffee table centered on a blue and red Persian-style rug. The open floor plan flowed into a spacious kitchen and dining area. A photo of Bella with her family sat on one end of the mantel beneath the wall-mounted TV. On the other end, soft pink and white silk flowers mixed with faux greenery in a vase.

It was tasteful, if a little too perfect.

Crouching in front of one of the white shelving units flanking the fireplace, he examined the books lined up neatly by author. Bella had always had her nose in a book when she wasn’t with Jaynie. None of the titles were familiar to him, not that he was a big reader outside of work-related publications.

A paperback rested on the end table next to the couch, a bookmark poking out of the center. Burn Notice. A spy thriller?

Except the guy on the cover wore a suit with his dress shirt open and a fuck-you expression.

Romance then. He opened the book at the placeholder and skimmed the paragraphs, his brows winging their way up his forehead.

Holy hot and steamy, Batman. Is this what the ladies were reading? That was one helluva dinner party scene.

The Bella he remembered wouldn’t be caught dead with a book like this in her possession. But if her reading material was any indication, she was a romantic at heart and liked escapism.

Steamy, uninhibited escapism.

A grin touched his lips as he filed that scrap of intel away and put the book back where he’d found it.

A door opened above his head. Trip’s collar jingled as he came barreling downstairs.

“Hey, buddy.” Danny greeted the enthusiastic mutt with a scratch on the head, twisting the lower half of his body to avoid hair and slobber.

Trip’s pink tongue lolled between shiny white canines in a doggy smile that had Danny smiling in return.

If he had a job that kept him at home more, he’d definitely think about getting a dog.

Bella’s voice floated down the stairs. “Don’t let him rub on you. He’s a shedder.”

Danny glanced up, his fingers stilling in Trip’s furry mane.

Bella’s long hair hung in a braid over one shoulder. She’d changed into a sleeveless mint green sundress that exposed her shoulders and arms. The hem ended mid-thigh, giving him a splendid view of her legs. Strappy gold sandals encased her feet. In her hand, she carried a small pink purse with a gold chain.

He glanced at his dark-wash jeans, pink shirt, and Nike high-tops, and felt like a frat boy next to her casual elegance.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, he could see she’d done up her eyes, the brown shadow and green liner making the gold flecks in her light brown eyes more prominent. Her lips were bubblegum-pink.

For half a second, he remembered the way her lips had tasted thirteen years ago.

Sweet, like berries after a spring rain.

He blinked. Shoved down the memory.

Get close enough to Bella so he could keep her safe?

Yes.

Taste her lips?

Not part of the plan.

Her forehead furrowed as she stared at him. “Am I overdressed?”

“Overdressed?” he parroted.

She gave him the once-over. “Because I looked at Ethiopian restaurants in Charlotte, and there are several.” A hesitant shrug. “Who knew?”