an RV. Used to pack all five of us kids up and go on road trips to the middle of nowhere. No plans or reservations. Sort of like throwing a dart at a map to see where life would take us. Of course, my brothers and I would sleep in a tent outside while my parents and sister, Ella, stayed in the RV.”
A big family. Must have been nice.
Daddy, can I have a brother? A sister? She remembered begging her parents for a sibling and wishing for one every year when she blew out the candles of her birthday cake.
We got lucky with such a perfect daughter. We don’t want to jinx it and try for more. You’re all we need, my red angel, her dad would respond.
“I bet you loved sleeping outside.” She drew her hand into a fist and set it to her chest, pushing away the happy memory from her past as she’d trained herself to do because the pain of remembering was too much to bear.
“Tents are great, but nothing beats lying out in the back of your pickup beneath a canopy of stars. You don’t get night skies in the city like you do back home. You’ll see when we’re there.” His voice was warm and soft and nearly wrapped her like a blanket.
As nice as staring at a bunch of stars on a dark night sounded, she had to do her best not to let this man get under her skin, or under her clothes. “We’re going there to make a plan, not to—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry, I may be a country boy, but one thing you can count on is the fact that I always get a job done. Close a case. Complete an op.”
“And I’m your op?” She gulped and slid her gaze to the side to catch his eyes.
He tilted his head to the side. “I reckon you’re going to be a lot more than that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ana followed the aroma of coffee into the living room of the two-bedroom suite A.J. had booked upon their arrival in Roanoke in the early hours of the morning. They hadn’t slept too long, but it was enough for her to feel refreshed.
Bonus points to the hotel for having decent water pressure. The scalding hot shower she’d taken once they’d ensured the suite was secure, had loosened her sore and knotted-up muscles enough that as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was lights-out. Which was definitely not her norm.
Sensing her presence, A.J. turned from the coffee station situated in the corner of the room and smiled. God, that man had the best smile. His brownish-blond hair was slightly damp from his shower, the color a little darker when wet. A few strands stuck up every which way as if he’d used his hand to swipe the water free without a brush. The style suited him. He had on dark jeans, a plain white tee that showcased his muscular arms, and instead of the sneakers he’d worn yesterday, he had on brown leather boots, a round toe unlike typical cowboy boots she’d seen him wear before.
“Morning,” he said as he approached her carrying two paper cups, swirls of steam escaping into the air. The few hours of sleep had done him good. Not that A.J. didn’t always look great.
“Don’t tell me whatever file you have on me also includes how I take my coffee.” She was only half-kidding. And surely, he’d seen or was in possession of a file on her. Whether the details included her real backstory, or as Porter had called it, Anastasia 1.0, she had no idea.
Porter had always warned her that her true story had the potential to be dangerous in the wrong hands. The truth would paint a target on her head, and now look at her, at what she was doing . . .
“Ana?”
“Sorry, I, um, what?” She blinked and peered up at A.J., now standing so close she had to tilt her head back. Shit, what was he just talking about? She knew it was more than “Ana?”, but she’d slipped inside her head, lost in her thoughts and worries.
He extended a cup, and she eyed the light brown liquid. “I said that I remembered how you drank your coffee back in Charlotte when we worked together. I saw you pour two creamers into your cup. No sugar.” He smirked. Proud of himself for paying attention to such details.