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Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I look at the three men. “Just like that?”
“Just like what?” King asks.
“Just like that, you go from hunting me to helping me?”
“Ridding the world of this Gabriel asshole helps everyone.” King lifts a shoulder. “And I’m not sure we were ever that good at hunting you.”
I think of all the times I had to dodge them and their men. “I don’t think you were as bad at it as you think.”
“No?” King lifts his brows.
“I spent six hours in a fucking dumpster outside of the deal you busted in Minneapolis last summer.”
Nero makes an impressed face. “That makes me feel a little better.”
“Happy to help,” I deadpan.
“If it makes you feel more trusting in oursudden cooperation, we didn’t just decide to loop you in yesterday.” Dom slides his hands into his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “We’ve been talking about it since January. But you didn’t exactly have your phone number written on that grenade you threatened us with.”
I look around at their faces. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t aiming for some sort of team-up. I just didn’t want to deal with you guys trying to kill me every time I went out on a job.”
Dom laughs. “Well, saving my life kinda put you on the fast track to friendship. And these dummies do whatever I say, so?—”
Nero jabs a punch at Dom’s side, cutting him off.
“How about we figure out how to kill this French prick first? Then we can make friendship bracelets around the campfire after.” King turns back to the computer.
I pull a different cell phone out of my pocket, faraday bag and all, and set it on the desk. “This belonged to the guy in that nice body bag. I’ve been a little too busy to crack it.”
CHAPTER96
Cassie
I’m transferringthe chocolate chip cookies from the cooling rack to the fancy wooden platter Payton set on the island when I hear the men’s voices.
They’ve been off making plans for the past hour, and I needed something to do to help me feel less tense. Plus, making cookies for a pregnant lady has got to earn me some friendship points.
The women are all so nice, asking me how I met Hans, wondering how long we’ve been dating.
It felt a little silly to admit that the closest thing to a date we’ve been on was dinner at my parents’. But they all thought that was sweet. So then I told them about bringing him food for the past year in hopes that he’d talk to me. Which led to them asking what sort of food I like to make, which led to my blog, which led to me offering to make something.
I slide the last cookie onto the pile and have to admit they look pretty good.
Since I didn’t want to try something new for a crowd, I went with a recipe I have memorized—and that Payton thankfully had ingredients for—my mom’s classic chocolate chip cookies. They’re pretty standard, except she always flattens the balls of dough on the pan, using her thumb to depress a circle in the middle, and then fills that with more chocolate chips.
If you like chocolate, they’re pretty great.
And only a few of them look a little too done, so I put those at the bottom of the pile.
I set the empty pan in the giant sink and take a second to just appreciate the kitchen. Everything is top of the line. Practically begging me to use it. They even have one of those fancy espresso machines that Payton used to make us a bunch of delicious decaf lattes.
I’m still standing on the far side of the island, opposite the stools where we sat before, when King enters the kitchen first.
“Smells good.” He rubs his stomach.
I wring my hands together in front of my stomach.
Even though I know things didn’t always turn out great, baking for Hans helped boost my confidence a lot.
