Marine's Mission - Rebecca Deel Page 0,39
He ended the call.
Owen slid his phone into his pocket as Gigi exited the bathroom.
“Owen?”
He walked to the doorway of her bedroom. “What is it, G?”
She wore one of his t-shirts and her yoga pants. The shirt made him smile. He’d wondered where that shirt had gone. “I heard you talking to someone. Do you have news about Toni?”
“No, I’m sorry. I called my boss at Fortress. He promised to line up a team for backup.”
“Would you like a pillow and a blanket?”
“Sure.”
A moment later, she handed him both. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
He kissed her gently. “Rest now. No one will slip past me.”
When she crawled into bed, Owen relaxed. Plumping the pillow, he stretched out on the couch, weapon within easy reach and a blanket draped over his legs. With a sigh, Owen closed his eyes and drifted off.
Thirty minutes before time to start breakfast, Owen woke, fully alert. He folded the blanket, set the pillow on top, and headed for the kitchen. Coffee and kitchen duty were the first things on his agenda today. After that, he’d chase down leads.
Jackson turned from the counter and handed Owen a mug of coffee. “Everything was quiet overnight. Is Gigi awake?”
Owen heard Gigi’s shower turn on, and nodded.
“Ready to start breakfast?”
“That’s the plan.”
He and Jackson grabbed the ingredients for the breakfast sandwiches and preheated the oven.
“What do you want me to do?” Jackson asked.
“Peel paper from the cans of biscuits, and whack the cans against the counter to pop them open.”
The medic eyed the biscuit containers as though they’d bite him. “What will you do while I operate on the cans?”
His lips curved. “Find Gigi’s baking sheets. After we drop the biscuits on the sheets, we’ll work on the eggs.”
“I’m not bad at eggs. I can handle that.” Jackson pointed at the biscuits. “If you put me in charge of those, you’ll need another emergency breakfast plan.”
Owen chuckled. “You’re a skilled medic. How can you not know how to bake biscuits?”
“Ovens hate me. I can grill stuff, but baking is beyond my cooking abilities.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll save you from the evil oven. Do you know how to make omelets?”
“Yep. They’re my specialty.”
“Perfect. Instead of scrambling the eggs, make them flat like omelets. We’ll cut the omelets in half and lay half of an omelet on each biscuit.”
By the time Gigi walked into the kitchen, the first batch of biscuits was baking in the oven and two omelets were cooling on a plate. “You’ve been working a while. Did you leave me anything to do?”
Owen brushed his mouth over hers. “You’re in charge of assembling sandwiches and preparing coffee. Do you typically serve anything else with breakfast?”
“A bowl of cut fruit and yogurt.”
“If you need fruit cut, I’m your man,” Jackson said. “SEALs rock at using knives.”
Owen snorted. “Got news for you, frog boy. The Marines taught me to use a Ka-Bar, too.”
Gigi grinned. “Welshing on egg duty, Jackson?”
“Making sure I’m not stuck on biscuit duty. I want a good meal, not one burned on the bottom and hard as a rock.”
Owen pointed a metal spatula at him. “You’re not fooling me, Conner. You’re hitting on my girl. Knock it off before I demonstrate my knife expertise on your sorry hide.”
“SEALs are better boyfriends than Marines.”
“You’re pushing your luck, buddy.” Owen glared at Jackson despite his amusement at the medic’s teasing. When the medic winked at Gigi, Owen smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
By the time breakfast was ready, Gigi was holding her sides. “Enough. I need to catch my breath.”
“I’ll behave,” Jackson said. He turned to Owen. “Want to shower while I eat?”
A nod. “I won’t be long.” He kissed Gigi. “Don’t go anywhere without Jackson.” Owen glanced at the medic and received a nod in response to his silent order. He grabbed his bag and headed into Gigi’s bathroom.
Three minutes later, he set his bag by the bathroom door and returned to the kitchen. A dark-haired man with a muscular build sat at the table, two sandwiches in front of him along with a mug of coffee.
Jackson leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped coffee while keeping an eye on the man. His body language spoke volumes.
Gigi handed Owen sandwiches and coffee. “Other guests will arrive soon.” She turned to the stranger. “Do you need anything else?”
“This is great. Thanks.” The man held out his hand to Owen. “Jase.”
“Owen. Where are you from?”
“Atlanta. You?”
Interesting. Jase didn’t sound like he was