Shielding Gillian (Delta Team Two #1) - Susan Stoker Page 0,78

got home and before he slept. Bachelor casserole had always been a favorite of hers, and it was quick and easy to make. She’d just whip up a batch of the noodle and hamburger meal and drop it off for him.

Not caring that it was ten at night and Walker lived forty miles away and it would be close to two in the morning when she got back to Georgetown herself, she got to work.

Trigger was beyond exhausted. He and the team had finished up their job and headed home without catching up on the sleep they’d lost over the last week and a half. Because they hadn’t managed to kill the high-value target—the HVT—but instead had taken out half a dozen of his cronies, they’d had to meet with the base general and debrief. There might be blowback because of their failure to kill the head bad guy—as Gillian would call him—but they were all pretty pleased with the terrorists they had managed to take out of commission.

Not every mission was as straightforward as the one he’d found Gillian in the middle of, which was frustrating, but Trigger had learned how to compartmentalize.

He’d borrowed a phone from one of the Army pilots because he and his team always left their personal cells at home when they went on missions, and he called Gillian the second they’d descended low enough to the ground to catch the signal from one of the many cell towers they were flying over.

He might’ve been embarrassed at how happy he was to hear her voice, if she didn’t sound just as relieved to hear from him.

Their debrief only took four hours instead of six, which Trigger was thankful for. He and the rest of his team were dead on their feet. He knew they’d need to regroup when they’d gotten some sleep and some decent food, but for now, their best bet was going home and crashing.

Trigger wished he could’ve seen Gillian when he got back to his apartment, but he smelled to high heaven and could barely keep his eyes open. He wanted to be at least semi-functional when he saw her again.

Unlocking his apartment door, Trigger froze.

Something was wrong.

It smelled…homey.

He’d been gone for eleven days. The air in his place should’ve been stale, but instead, the scent of food surrounded him and made his stomach growl.

It was three-thirty in the morning. What the fuck was happening?

Pulling out the K-BAR knife he kept on his person at all times when he was on a mission, Trigger eased his door shut and put down his duffle bag. He crept into his apartment and noticed a light on in the kitchen. A light he definitely hadn’t left on when he’d departed twelve days ago. For a moment, he was a little frustrated, thinking that perhaps Gillian had decided to come up to his place even though he’d said he needed some sleep. It was a shitty thought, but he was exhausted and in no mood to entertain anyone. Not even Gillian.

But the kitchen was empty. Trigger saw a piece of paper on the counter, but ignored it for the moment. He needed to clear the rest of his apartment, make sure no one was lurking in the shadows or Gillian wasn’t sleeping somewhere. As irritated as he was at the thought she might’ve ignored his request to come up the next afternoon, after he’d had a chance to unwind from his intense mission, he didn’t want to scare the shit out of her by pulling out a knife if she’d decided to surprise him.

But after a quick search, Trigger found his apartment empty.

Putting his knife away, he walked back into his kitchen. Pulling open his stove, he found a glass dish covered in aluminum foil. He felt the dish and realized it was still warm.

Even more baffled now—had someone broken in and cooked dinner? Of course they hadn’t. That was just stupid—he picked up the piece of paper and opened it. Glancing at the end, he saw it was a note from Gillian. He read quickly.

Welcome home!

I know you’re tired and I didn’t want to bother you. It’s not the same thing at all, but I know sometimes after a major event that I’ve spent weeks planning, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I need to go home and decompress without having to think about anyone or anything for a while.

Anyway, I started thinking about how if you were tired, you were probably hungry too.