Between Love and Honor (Men of the Secret Service #3) - Tracy Solheim Page 0,81
above the bill of the baseball cap and then made her way over to Ben. “Are you sure your shoulder is up to this?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t hear any complaints about my shoulder a half hour ago,” he murmured.
She blushed. “That’s because I was concentrating on other parts of your physique.”
“Hey, if you two are done whispering over there,” Adam called from across the room. “I’d like to get this show on the road.”
The secretary grabbed her vest. “Get your team in place, Agent Lockett. The rest of us will make our way down to the harbor via different routes.”
Quinn squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For doing this. For still loving me. For everything.”
“Stay safe,” he managed to grind out through his tight throat.
“Coming, Agent Darby?” the secretary called.
It irked Ben how she made it sound like the two women were going to a day spa rather than a covert op. “Keep her safe, too,” he said, gesturing to his boss.
Quinn nodded. Ignoring the rest of the room, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later.”
For the first time since she had catapulted back into this life, Ben watched her leave the room without experiencing an overwhelming premonition he wouldn’t ever see her again. Her promise of the future hung in the air and Ben suddenly couldn’t wait to get this evening over with.
“You’re sure you’re good with this?” Griff asked for what felt like the hundredth time during the ten-minute drive from the White House to Fort McNair.
They were seated in the gray van with the logo from a cable company on the sides disguising a sophisticated command center on the iinterior. Ben was surprised at just how good he was. He double-checked his weapon and replaced it in its holder. Leaning down, he secured the knife at his ankle.
“Yeah, just make sure nothing happens to Quinn, okay?”
“Something tells me she can take care of herself. I’m really sorry about all that shit that went down yesterday. We just didn’t know what to make of her. She hurt you in the past, yet you seemed very protective of her.”
Was that only yesterday? So much had happened since then. The revelation of her true identity. The fragile restoration of their trust. And the rekindling of their love. The past seventy-two hours felt surreal. If he was dreaming, he sure as hell didn’t want to wake up.
His buddy elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re grinning like an idiot.”
“Sorry.” Ben tried and failed to wipe the smile from his lips. “None of us knew what to make of Quinn when she arrived. Least of all, me. I would have filled you in had I known what to tell you.”
“Just like you filled us in on your alter ego?”
Ben shrugged. “It started out as a lark and then became something challenging and rewarding. I wasn’t sure you guys would understand since most of my captures took place within a computer.”
“I get that. But I still don’t know why you had to keep it so hush-hush. Adam kept his dad a secret all those years and now this. I feel kind of boring having a life that’s an open book.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. This isn’t a contest.”
“Actually, come to think of it, I do have a secret.” Griff fidgeted next to him.
“Let me guess. You have jock itch?” Ben teased.
“No, asshole, my wife is pregnant.”
He announced it so loudly the rest of the team in the van broke out in applause.
Ben laughed. “And that’s why you don’t have any secrets. You’re supposed to keep ’em, you know, secret.” He slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Congratulations, bro. That’s awesome news.”
Griff beamed. “Yeah, it is pretty cool, isn’t it?”
Both men sobered up when the van came to a stop at the marina. They shared a silent fist bump before Ben climbed out of the van.
“Ben,” Griff called after him. “We got your six, man.”
“Yeah, all for one and one for all.” He gave his buddy a salute before heading to his sailboat.
Chapter Seventeen
They left the White House in a small Mercedes SUV with one of the secretary’s agents at the wheel. The other agent rode shotgun.
“This is my private vehicle, Caracas. Don’t you dare get a scratch on it,” the secretary ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ll pose as mother and daughter,” she explained to Quinn. “The agents will act as our companions.”
Caracas grinned at Quinn through the rearview mirror.