Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(22)

He forced the conversation light. Today could be a really good day or a really bad day, but the foreboding in Gabe’s gut made him suspect the latter.

Hesitant footsteps revealed her reservation. He forced himself to relax when everything in him longed to hold her and make it okay. Trouble was, he couldn’t.

He threw the frozen entrées on the counter and grabbed the coffee pot. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not fun to be around before coffee. Want some?”

He turned, empty pot in hand.

Deb stood a few feet away, a bit bemused. “Um, coffee would be great. Look, Gabe—”

“It’s fine, Deb. I get the message.”

Her cheeks flushed.

“Today, we’re colleagues, right? Mixing business and pleasure breaks the rules.”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“Don’t look so surprised. I get it. I worked with a woman for years in SWAT. She was a sniper. She kept herself at a distance for a lot of reasons. That was one of them. Of course, now she’s married to my brother.” Gabe filled the pot with water and looked over his shoulder. Deb had given him the excuse he needed. As much as he could see himself seducing Deb Lansing, he liked her too much. It wouldn’t be a one-night stand with Deb, and he had an investigation to run. He couldn’t risk putting her in danger. “Business it is.”

A few minutes later the smell of coffee filtered through his house. He handed Deb a cup and she sipped the dark liquid gratefully. Gabe nearly groaned.

Her eyes finally cleared, their haze from only a few hours’ sleep vanishing. “When can we leave?”

“Nine is the earliest my contacts will be there. For now, eat up.”

She sat down at the table, and he doled out breakfast, adding a bowl of salsa to hide the frozen-food aftertaste.

A few minutes later, Deb licked her lips. “Frozen or fresh, I don’t care. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” She glanced once more at the clock and leaned forward in her chair, her expression solemn. “Thank you . . . for your kindness last night. For being there.”

Gabe ignored the small skip of his heart. “That’s what colleagues do. Right?”

“Yes. Colleagues.”

What an idiot. Gabe cursed his stupidity. Business was the least of the emotions he was feeling for Deb Lansing this morning and he’d given her the out. “Do you want the shower first?” he asked. “We have just enough time before we should go.”

She shook her head. “More coffee.” She poured a second cup.

Relieved, Gabe headed to the back of the house. His shower would be quick all right, and freezing cold.

Ten minutes later, he returned to the kitchen bearing fresh towels and a packaged toothbrush for her. Would she notice his lips were blue from the icy water he’d rained upon his overeager body?

Deb sat at the table, nursing her coffee. She looked more like herself now, alert, strong, and less vulnerable. More like the woman who could probably throw him onto his back and either stomp on him or have her way with him.

“Shower’s yours if you want it.” Gabe shifted. “I didn’t know if you wanted to take the time to go home before heading to Colorado Springs. I left some long-sleeved shirts and sweaters on my bed if you want to change. I don’t have any pants that would fit, though. Just sweats.”

Deb faced him, her face fully cloaked in the iron curtain he’d come to recognize. “Thanks. I’d feel a lot better after a run through the shower. I want to get going as soon as possible.”

By the time she returned, her damp auburn hair curling around her face and shoulders, Gabe truly wondered if he’d lost his mind. How could he have thought listening to a naked, wet Deborah Lansing taking a shower in his bathroom wouldn’t require him to shove snowballs down the front of his pants?

Damn. She was loyal, sexy, witty, and—

She interrupted. “Thanks for the loan of the clothes, etcetera. I’ll replace the toothbrush.”

He moved toward her. “You don’t have to. I have more.”

“Oh.” Her gaze lowered. “Yeah. Single guy. Who owns a bar. Of course you have guests.”

He stepped closer. Close enough to inhale the scent of minty toothpaste, shampoo, and clean skin. Somehow his soap and shampoo smelled a lot sexier on her. He tilted her chin up. “Deb, you are the first woman I’ve had sleep the night at this house.”

Her eyes rounded. “Really? Then why . . .”

“My mother.” He brushed the hair back from Deb’s face. “After raising six boys, my mother was used to buying for an army, so when I moved in she gave me a care package—or twenty. I could supply every person in the city of Denver with a toothbrush and still have some left over. Don’t even get me started on how many boxes of condoms she threw in. Then she yells at me for not giving her grandchildren. I think she’d better make up her mind.”

Deb laughed, a hearty, unexpected laugh that had him smiling like he never thought he would again. For a moment, the fear of the day went away.

“Well, I still thank you for the toothbrush and the clothes. I hope I can return the favor sometime.”

Hell, he could think of a lot of things she could do, most involving a box of those condoms. Maybe all of them.

As if she could read his thoughts, her breath hitched and her eyes darkened.