Hidden Impact (Safeguard #1)(73)

He needed to get An-mei back in one piece for Maylin, and for himself too. Acknowledging it freed up something deep inside him he hadn’t admitted all this time.

Every mission mattered. He cared. Couldn’t not. And it made him human even if he pretended he wasn’t.

*

Half an hour after Gabe had told her they were coming home, she was back in the kitchen again.

Maylin ran her fingertips along the cool marble counter. Funny how it had become home to her, more so than her apartment back downtown or the kitchens she used for her work. Before all of this, when her life had been An-mei and the catering company—well, to be honest, mostly her catering company—no kitchen had been home for her because she was always stepping into the commercial-grade places meant to feed hundreds in a single night. None of those places was the central gathering place of a family.

Gabe’s team was a family, though they might not think of it that way. Non-traditional, unconventional, but in so many ways closer in understanding and purpose than a normal family might be.

In the space of a few days, Maylin trusted them more than most of her own family ties.

She reached under the stove for a big stock pot. It was funny how they’d bought an entire cook set without knowing how to use any of the cookware. When she’d commented on it, Lizzy had shrugged and said somebody should figure out how. Or somebody who could cook would eventually find themselves there for recuperation too.

Nabbing several bones from the refrigerator, she tossed them in the stock pot with a drizzle of olive oil. Bones always made the best soup stock. Gave it a heartier quality than just bouillon. Over a medium-high flame, she’d brown them and start adding other ingredients for a nice clear soup. It’d be ready for the team when they got back.

No matter when they returned.

And that was something she had to think hard about. Reaching into the refrigerator, she pulled out carrots and celery, plus a big onion. As she washed them and cut the ends, placing the prepped vegetables on a cutting board, she let her mind run free. What was between Gabe and her was real. Undefined, but tangible. She didn’t want to give it up.

But Harte and Caleb had let her peek into the work Gabe did. She hadn’t been sure her heart could take the fear she’d had for every one of his team, and most especially for Gabe.

When the bomb had flipped his vehicle, she thought everything she loved had died.

Gabe. An-mei. His team...they’d all been in there. And with the exception of her sister, they all did this on a regular basis. They only came to Washington State to recuperate when their jobs hit them so hard they had no choice but to come here to heal. And that was only if they’d been lucky. The alternative was...unthinkable. And permanent.

Methodically, she began dicing the onion. Small, uniform pieces so they would cook at the same rate. Measurable. Everything was predictable in cooking. There was room for creativity and personal taste, but mostly cooking was a logical set of outcomes. Add something and get a quantifiable and predictable result.

Culinary chemistry, really.

In a kitchen, she had control over everything and the freedom to tweak things back and forth to reflect her mood and intentions. It was always constructive. And in her business, her rewards were in direct proportion to the level of effort she’d put into it. Fair.

What Gabe and his team did usually had a cause, as far as she understood it. There was usually a clear understanding that they were doing the right thing. But they went in with a plan and a backup plan, plus several alternatives in case everything went to hell. All they could control was their reaction to the insanity they’d gone into. And most of the time, things didn’t make sense.

She’d have no way of helping them in the future. No control over when they came back or whether they returned unharmed. She’d only be able to wait like this and maybe have something warm on the stove for them. Something that would keep because there was no knowing exactly when they’d get back.

She added the onions to the stock pot and gave the contents a stir to coat the onions in the olive oil and the drippings from the pork bones. Then she returned to the cutting board to dice the carrots and celery.

Same uniform size. Same comforting measurements. She was a creature of habit. Nothing about the last few days had been anything resembling routine except this. Cooking. And it’d made her happy to cook for Gabe and his team. She’d even gotten a feel for how to cook for each of them individually. Thoughts of dishes they specifically might like. She’d planned to make a special meal for each of them someday soon.

And then the bomb had gone off under her car and she’d understood how someday could be never.

She shook her head. Lifting the cutting board, she brought it to the stock pot and slid the entire load of diced carrots and celery into the pot with the back of her knife. Setting both board and knife aside, she liberally sprinkled salt on the veggies and then gave it all a good stir. It smelled lovely.

After another minute, she used another pot she’d filled at the sink to pour water into her stock. Covering the meat bones and vegetables and filling the stock pot to three quarters of the way full, she figured it’d take only a short while for it all to come up to a boil. Then she’d season and add a few more ingredients to finish the soup.

She’d need something else to keep her hands busy. Bread was out of the question because no one had known to buy yeast and she’d not even thought to get a sourdough starter going. That would have taken a week or so.