Savannah stood in stunned silence as he stalked from the kitchen. He grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on before sitting down at the breakfast bar. Savannah slid a stack of pancakes in front of him.
“Thanks.” He cast a quick glance up at her. He didn’t realize having this beautiful young woman in his home would affect him like this. He was a professional. He shouldn’t be affected by her.
He watched her move through the apartment, bending at the waist to collect the pile of mail he’d left by his arm chair, shuffling into the kitchen to arrange it on the counter and biting her lip as she studied a spot on the counter before wiping it away. Her lips were full and pink and he found himself wondering what they’d taste like before quickly pushing the thought away.
As she stood at the kitchen counter, Cole appraised her profile. Small but perky chest, dark hair curling around her shoulders, a flat stomach, and a nice shapely ass. He appreciated a fine ripe ass and getting that rounded backside in his palms played through his mind like a song on repeat, no matter how many times he reminded himself it wasn’t happening.
The tiny cut on her lower lip had healed quickly, just the faintest line of pink visible if you were looking for it. Savannah looked up and met his eyes, her mouth dropping open in an unspoken question.
He needed to stop staring at her mouth or she was going to get the wrong idea. He didn’t bring her here for any sinister purpose. He wasn’t expecting anything in return for letting her stay.
He found his voice. “Come sit down and eat with me.”
Savannah obeyed, carrying an extra plate and set of silverware over the breakfast bar to join him.
She helped herself to a few pancakes from the platter stacked high between them. Cole was glad to see that she didn’t seem overly self-conscious or shy.
She cut her pancakes into little pieces but still hadn’t taken a bite.
“How are you doing this morning?” he asked, trying his best at playing a nurturing role, something new for him.
She swallowed heavily and gazed over at him. “Is it stupid that I miss it there?”
The compound? He supposed it was all she knew. “No, I guess not. They were the only family you had.”
She nodded. “There are some things I won’t miss.”
He left her alone to her thoughts, fighting the urge to push her for details. He appreciated her personality — she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with pointless chatter. She was more observer of the world than outright contributor, and he could relate. He approached most things with a healthy dose of suspicion, and relationships for him were no different. They were each still feeling each other out, each on guard, but for likely different reasons. She was a vulnerable shell-shocked girl in a stranger’s home, and he was a hardened FBI agent who’d experienced more than his fair share of loss. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. Christ, what a pair.
After a few seconds of quietly picking at her thumbnail, she asked, “Do you think anyone from the compound could find me here?”
He doubted that’d be possible. She was supposed to be at the halfway house. Though if someone was interested enough and started poking around, the facility coordinator may remember Cole and she could be tracked down through him, but why would anyone bother?
“Why are you asking?”
“There was someone…”
“Someone what?”
She looked down, once again becoming fascinated with her thumbnail.
“Answer me.” He didn’t intend the brute force behind his voice.
“Jacob’s son.”
Cole racked his brain. The file mentioned that Jacob had a twenty-one year old son, Dillon, but he hadn’t been living at the compound at the time of the raid. “Dillon.”
She nodded.
“Is he dangerous?”
“No, nothing like that.” She hesitated for a beat, but before Cole could probe again, she released a sigh and continued. Dillon had lived at the compound up until last year. He’d gone away to look for a better paying job, but swore he’d come back for her. Despite Savannah’s platonic-only feelings for him, he was convinced they’d get married someday. He brushed off her hesitations, telling her they were meant to be together and he was going to take care of her.
Cole turned to her and took her hands, holding them in between his palms. “Listen. He’s not going to find you here. You’re safe. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
After breakfast Cole announced he was going to the grocery store. “Is there anything you’d like? You could make a list,” he encouraged, sliding his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Oh no, you get what you like. I don’t want to be a pest.”
“Savannah, you’re not.” His look of sincerity stopped any further arguments from her, but she didn’t provide him with a list. He didn’t want to press it, because even after setting a pad of paper and a pen on the counter, Savannah solemnly shook her head. He didn’t know if her refusal was because she really felt like she was overstepping her bounds, or if perhaps she couldn’t write; so he let it drop.
At the grocery store his usual routine was to grab just the essentials and juggle everything in his arms. This time though, he wandered down each aisle and practically got one of everything, throwing things into the cart at will. He ventured to the carpeted section of the superstore where there were racks of clothing. Savannah probably needed a few essentials, but he didn’t know her size, or what she might like, so he kept walking. He stood in an aisle, looking at the plastic packages of underpants. But damn, buying her panties seemed too forward. He fled, feeling odd even standing in the aisle.