anxiety or both. Hands flat on the sink, she dragged in a deep breath. It was near suppertime, and although she wasn’t hungry, she knew she had to eat. The amount of energy she’d used up earlier today needed to be replaced.
Opening the door, she smelled spaghetti, the garlic a nice scent on the air. Chase was busy in the kitchen, his broad back to her, chopping up vegetables. Walking across the living room, she made sure he could see her coming. Early on, he told her to never approach him silently from the rear. His automatic response was to assume it was the enemy, and he might accidentally harm her. The more she knew about Chase, the more she realized his years as a sniper in enemy territory were now a part of him, and she respected his request.
“That smells good,” she said, moving into the kitchen, catching his glance.
“I figured some comfort food tonight was in order, nothing heavy on your stomach, and it just might taste good,” he said, finishing up the tiny pieces of garlic. He tossed them into the sauce pan and stirred them in. He rinsed his hands in the sink and grabbed a towel, drying them off. “You look a lot better. How are you feeling?”
Cari fell into their routine. Chase would cook and she would set the table. “Better.”
“I don’t think we’ll hear from Dan until tomorrow morning,” Chase said. “They need to talk at length with that FBI agent who’s flying in.”
“Okay,” she said, taking the blue-and-white plates over to the table. “The main thing I’m worried about is Dirk. Did he recognize me?”
Pulling open a drawer, he laid two dark blue linen napkins on the counter. “I don’t think so, and I’ll tell you why. If he had, why would he have stayed where he was? Don’t you think he’d have done something? And when you turned from that corner booth and went into the kitchen, I’m pretty sure he’d have come after you. Why would he leave you where you were if he did recognize you?”
“You have a point,” she said quietly, picking up the napkins. “I’ve asked myself that question, too.”
“He’s used to seeing his dark-haired sister with long hair, not some woman with short red hair. Plus, you said you had the bill of the cap low enough so he couldn’t really see your whole face. I think he’s here for another reason. And that’s why we’re going to have to wait to find out from Dan what it might be.”
She pulled the flatware from the drawer. “That still means he’s in this area, Chase.” She gave him a dark look. “And that’s the real problem.”
“I hear you,” he said, pulling a large pot off the stove. “We don’t have enough answers yet, Cari. Whether we want to or not, we’re going to have to stand down, and wait until Dan gives us a call.”
“Do you think he will?”
“Absolutely.” He poured the steaming hot water that contained the pasta into an awaiting colander in the sink. “He’s not going to leave us high and dry. Don’t worry about that.”
He placed the steaming spaghetti in a large bowl and handed it to her.
“Regardless, the chances of Dirk being around from now on is what really bothers me.” She set the bowl on the table so they could both reach it.
“That’s the big issue,” he agreed, picking up another bowl with the fragrant, garlicky marinara sauce and placing it on the table.
Cari sat down and put the napkin across her lap, watching him sit down across from her. “You look so unaffected by this. How do you do that? Is that part of your military training?”
He scooted his chair up to the table, handing her the bowl of pasta, first. “I suppose. You can’t be a sniper and get tangled up in your bubbling pot of emotions, that’s for sure. Get emotional and you get shot. Emotions cloud decisions, Cari.”
“Sure wish I had some of that DNA of yours,” she grumped, taking the bowl.
“Oh, almost forgot the French bread in the oven.” He quickly got up.
She smiled a little, setting the bowl near his plate. Maybe he was more affected than he realized? Or maybe he cared for her, was truly as upset as she was, but was hiding it better than she was? Men could be so taciturn. She watched as he transferred the fragrant garlic-and-butter-laden bread into an awaiting basket. That warm, fuzzy thought that he was