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“He’s a fucking criminal, Lark. He nearly killed you!”
“He didn’t do this. He was just dragged into the mess, not unlike I was. The guy who hired me to drive the bomb was responsible.” An idea hit, and she withdrew from her lover’s arms enough to pull out her phone from her bra where she’d tucked it. She opened a fresh note and began typing.
“What are you typing?”
“The article I wrote in my head while I was in the coffin. Oh, this is gonna be so good! Worth at least a month’s rent over the garage.”
He plucked the phone out of her hand and yanked her against his chest again. “You’re not going back there. And you can’t publish that article you wrote in the coffin, Lark.”
She gaped at him.
“Seriously,” he told her firmly.
“Okay, maybe later it can be an exposé. When this is all said and done,” she cozied up to him, “and we live happily ever after.”
ChapterNineteen
Clay walked into the kitchen of his rental home and stopped. He took in the new modern desk set up against one wall. On top of it sat two monitors, and several tablets were stacked on the side, along with boxes of brand-new burn phones.
Lark twisted in the new desk chair and threw him a smile. “Surprise!”
He blinked. “What’s all this?”
“I thought Sentry needed a headquarters. I mean, there’s always a person to check in with. I’m like your personal Roberta.”
He grunted. “Without the security leaks, I hope.”
“Oh, absolutely.” She bobbed her head, causing those springy curls to bounce around her shoulders.
Clay drifted over to the desk. “Where did you get the funding for all this?”
“Quaide hooked us up.”
“Did he?” He scrubbed his knuckles over his jaw. “Son of a bitch…”
“He’s on his way over to sign the contract.”
That had Clay’s brows shooting upward. “Contract?”
“Of course. We need his commitment to Sentry now that he’s officially resigned from his position with the FBI.”
Picking up one of the burn phones, he examined the quality before setting it back on the stack.
“Is the equipment to your satisfaction so far? I mean, we still need to get the comms devices and equip the weapons storage locker—”
“Weapons storage locker? Are you serious?”
Biting down on her bottom lip, she gave an enthusiastic nod. “Let me show you.”
His stare latched on to her body as she bounced in her old Converse sneakers. She grabbed his hand and towed him behind her through the kitchen to a door leading to the garage that was filled with old junk he probably should have tossed when he moved into the place, but—
He stopped again, gaping at what he saw.
The garage had been cleared and along one wall were rows of steel storage lockers. There was also a small seating group consisting of six chairs.
“You guys have all the say on what goes into the lockers, of course. But I thought you should have your own place to keep your guns or disguises or whatever you’ll need.” She swung toward him, face tipped up to his and a nervous smile playing around her full lips. “What do you think?”
His gaze roamed over her beautiful face before he delved into the depths of her eyes. “I think you’re the most amazing secretary ever.”
