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“You can have the other bed upstairs, if you want.” Sam took a step up, then turned back to him. “It’s fine.”
“No, I need to be down here. Too many points of ingress.” An alarm did no good if he wasn’t there to respond.
“Okay. I’m going to shower, then I’ll make some dinner.” She trotted up the stairs.
Trevor put his gear at the end of the couch, and the rifle near the dining room table. Grabbing his phone, he powered it up and put it in airplane mode, then connected to the house Wi-Fi. Emails waited, but he only cared about the ones from Aviss. He plopped down on the couch, and water ran. Good thing he had plenty of work to distract him from Sam in the shower.
Despite the work waiting, he dropped the phone on his lap and yawned. His previous nap was wearing off under the stress of the drive and the many restless nights. He scanned the emails from Aviss; none were emergencies. He’d doze while Sam cleaned up, then shower.
He woke to the scent of Italian herbs and tomatoes. Sam, dressed in yoga pants and a tight, long sleeve t-shirt, stirred a pot on the stove. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and got up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Smells delicious.” His stomach rumbled.
Sam turned and smiled. “No worries. You obviously needed the sleep. Besides, spaghetti sauce only gets better with simmering. You have time for a shower.”
Trevor opened his mouth to object, then sniffed. “I need one. Thanks.” He returned to his bag and grabbed fresh clothes. “Yell if the alarm goes off or anything else happens.” Picking up his pistol, he trod upstairs. He didn’t want to clean more than one bathroom.
He kept the temperature warm, not hot, refreshing him, rather than sending him to sleep. As he scraped the scruff from his face, he considered Sam and their relationship. Or lack thereof.
If he really wanted her—and he did—he had to lay it all on the line, heart, soul, and mind, because she’d need proof. And he couldn’t blame her for that—he’d behaved so badly.
Leaving the FBI and returning to Marcus was an easy decision. Forensic accountants were in high demand—he could work from anywhere. He’d probably have to travel; many clients wouldn’t want their data sent off site. But he could pick and choose his contracts. Maybe Sam would travel with him occasionally. Once they had kids, they’d take turns staying home.
He snicked one last fuzzy spot with his razor and rinsed it. He was jumping the gun, planning out their lives with children. But he was all in. Sam was his soul mate, the love of his life. He’d been too stupid to realize it before, but he was older and wiser.
That didn’t mean she was ready to buy what he was selling. He’d have to convince her of his sincerity, then date her properly. Dinners, dancing, romantic gestures; whatever it took. He suspected that just living in Marcus would be a big point in his favor, but he couldn’t rely on that. He had to back up every heartfelt declaration of love with action, multiple actions.
But he had to start with words, and he’d always been better with numbers. Or sports.
Time to step out of his comfort zone and lay it all on the line. He dried off, dressed, and repacked. Sam’s bag was packed and ready too. Too bad she’d had to learn that lesson.
His phone buzzed; motion alarms at the end of the driveway were going off. Grabbing his pistol, he bounded down the stairs and ran to the front door. An SUV pulled up, Aviss getting out of the driver’s side, her husband Geo on the passenger side, holding an AR-15 rifle in his hands. Both wore bullet resistant vests and pulled on helmets before walking to the front door, Geo facing backward.
Trevor checked the alarm system and opened the door before they climbed the steps. “Security shows the area is clear.”
Aviss entered the house, Geo behind her. “Copy that.”
Trevor locked and alarmed the house again. “We’re about to eat.” He’d invite them to join, but he didn’t know how much Sam had made. It smelled amazing, and he was starving.
“Go ahead.” Aviss took off her helmet and holstered her pistol. “I’ll talk, you listen. Geo’s got a small security team outside. This house belongs to one of Wiz’s employees and she’s monitoring the system. I’ve told no one in the Bureau where we are, but watching Wiz’s known associates is always a possibility.”
Geo paced along the windows, peering into the darkness and speaking softly.
“Excellent.” Trevor joined Sam in the kitchen, grabbing a soda for her and water for him. He looked at Aviss. “Water?”
“We’re fine for now, thanks.” She sat.
Sam handed him a bowl of pasta with red sauce and plenty of cheese and took her soda. She looked at Aviss. “There’s plenty if you’re hungry.”
“No. Sit.” She tapped the table. “Relax and eat while you’ve got the chance.”
“And that’s not ominous at all.” Sam sighed but crossed to the table and sat down.
Trevor sat next to her and took a huge bite. “Delicious. Thanks, Sam.”
“You’re welcome.” Sam sipped her soda. “What’s the plan?”
Aviss picked up a tablet. “It’s flexible and multi-layered, depending on what happens when you enter the bank. First, we’ve got someone on the inside. One teller is prior military. We gave them additional weapons and tactics training. They’re a failsafe only, but they’ll have pistols for both of you in case everything goes wrong.”
“We’re talking to Sharlene Murphy.” Sam grimaced. “Of course it will go wrong.”
