Sheltered

That had been an interesting exercise. She’d seen a few references to Connor Bowen, the owner and leader, and to one other member of the team, a former NCIS agent, but no one else. There could be two guys on the team or two hundred and there was no way for her to tell just by searching around.

The wall of secrecy extended to the team’s location and exactly what they could do and how much the government knew about their work. There had been exactly one photo, an older one of Connor Bowen. He had the tall, dark and handsome thing down. Looking at Holt, Lindsey wondered if “speech-stealing hot” was some sort of job requirement for this group.

Connor’s deep and reassuring voice had matched the confident look he wore in the photo. He hadn’t sounded all that shocked about Holt giving away his identity, but Connor had made her repeat three times the part about Holt playing the role of her fake boyfriend. She’d swear he’d laughed.

“Wait a minute.” Holt shook his head as if trying to assess what she’d just said. “Connor actually talked with you?”

“Well, finding the number proved impossible. I had to call other agencies and do a bunch of internet searches, all which pointed to the fact the Corcoran Team didn’t have a number I could access. To the extent anyone admitted Corcoran even existed. Then right when I gave up, the phone rang and Connor was on the line.” The whole thing had a Big-Brother-is-watching feel that freaked her out. “Spooky, by the way.”

“Joel tracks all searches for Corcoran. He lets people see only what he wants them to see so he can monitor and do some looking of his own.”

She had no idea who that was, but her mind went to a bigger question. “Searches where?”

A faint smile crossed Holt’s mouth. “Everywhere.”

“The information lockdown is a bit intimidating.” She could think of a few more words, but that seemed like the nicest.

“Just as Connor wants it.”

“Well, he didn’t seem happy about me bugging him, but yes. He answered my questions...sort of.” The man had sounded downright stunned when she insisted she needed some sort of verification of Holt’s identity. She could only assume other people saw Holt’s imposing form and I’m-in-charge swagger and capitulated without a fight.

Not her. If he wanted that kind of woman, she was not his type...not that he served as anything other than a bodyguard for her.

“I filled him in on the status of the assignment an hour ago.” Holt started to say something else, then stopped.

“He must have called me right after that.” Or at least that was what he’d told her. “Apparently you told him you broke cover.”

Holt switched to frowning. Something he excelled at to the point of being an expert. “You’re sounding sort of official there.”

“I borrowed his phrase.” If she could remember more, she’d throw them out, too.

“So now you know I’m legitimate and we can stop arguing about that, right?” Holt’s gaze returned to the yard and the shuffling of dirt in the distance.

She shrugged even though the gesture was wasted. He didn’t even give her eye contact. “For now.”

Without seeming to move, he angled his body. Stood partway in front of her, blocking her body from the quiet night beyond them. “I’m at a disadvantage here. You know about me and you’re not coughing up any details about yourself.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

He winked at her. “Don’t let the shoulders fool you. I’m not as slow as I look.”

That zapped the amusement right out of her. “You’re not going to forget I said that, are you?”

“No way.”

She rushed to fix her mess. “What I meant was—”

He pinned her in place with a quick glance. “I know what you meant.”

The guy could stop looking like that. So determined and...big. He crowded in on her on the large open porch without even moving. Something about the way he held his body and aimed that intense stare had her squirming.

“Clearly you don’t have a problem with ego.” She wished he taught a class in that, because she’d be in the front row.

“I know mutual attraction when I see and feel it.”

“Mutual?” That struck her as such a tame term for the need that had pulsed through her ever since he arrived in town.

She knew how many times a day her mind wandered and his face popped into her head. From the first time she’d seen him, picking out a muffin and ordering black coffee from the deli she helped manage, her common sense took a nosedive. One look at him and every vow she’d ever made about staying focused on her quest died a withering death.

He shook his head. “You are not going to derail this conversation.”

“I can try.”

“You might...” His head snapped back in the direction he’d been looking for the past few minutes. Far left behind the shed.

“What is it?” She dropped her voice to a whisper that barely carried over the sound of her breathing.

“Company.”

“Are you kidding?” She wanted to scream, shout...find her gun. She went with listening instead. Not her strongest skill, but at least it was something she could control while the world seemed to be bouncing around at random.

“I’ve been tracking the person for about fifteen minutes.”

The constant visual search and the thrum of awareness running through him made sense. Still, the fact that the guy could chat while conducting surveillance and not show any signs of anxiety confused her. “While we were talking?”

“Then and before.”

Well, sure. He acted as if that were normal. “You could warn a person.”

“Time to move.”

She almost didn’t hear the whispered comment, but she did see the change come over him. It was as if he switched from being on watch to back to normal again, which made no sense to her at all.

“I think we should call it a night and go inside.” His voice picked up a bit in volume. Not enough to be obvious, but a slight beat or two more than before.

She’d rather go with that gun idea. “Absolutely.”

She pitched her voice nice and strong even as her insides shook. The touch of his hand right before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders helped. He guided them through the front door and inside. She didn’t remember moving until he shut the door behind her.

He reached down to his ankle and pulled up with a gun in his hand. That was when she noticed he held two. His dark eyes flashed with fire as he morphed from the calm guy standing outside, getting some air, back to the fierce protector. She approved of the change. And she finally got it. The last part had been an act to let whoever lingered out there think he was safe.

He handed her a gun. “You know how to use it?”

“Yes.” A whole range of guns. Guns, knives, some explosives. The New Foundations leadership didn’t bother with subtleties back when she got stuck up there. You learned how to fight because weak people were useless to the cause. She just never really understood what the cause was supposed to be.

As soon as the gun hit her palm, she checked it. The magazine, the chamber. This weapon didn’t belong to her, but she’d be able to pull the trigger. She was not afraid to do what had to be done to protect herself.

Holt positioned her in the doorway between the kitchen and the family room. She had her back against a solid wall and a clear view of the door and a patch of the front yard through the window within her line of sight.