His To Protect (Elite Force Security Book 2), page 11
German pancakes weren’t as ordinary as traditional pancakes, and she hadn’t had them in months. Plus, she had all the ingredients on hand. While she was at it, she’d make them all southwestern omelets. Again, not as boring as plain scrambled eggs, and the refrigerator contained everything she needed.
***
Ryan checked his watch. Kenzie told him to come over around eight thirty. It was already ten past eight and his brother had yet to make an appearance. At another time, he’d give Adam a pass. After he’d returned from Kenzie’s house, they’d sat around the fire pit talking and drinking beer for a couple of hours. Honestly, he’d love a few more hours of sleep this morning. With that impossible, he was relying on caffeine to give him the boost he needed.
“Nice of you to finally join me,” Ryan greeted when Adam strolled in the kitchen, his hair still damp from a shower.
His brother walked past him without even looking in his direction and grabbed a coffee cup from the cupboard. “Good morning to you too. I’ll be sure to let Kenzie know how rude you were to me.” Adam took his time selecting a coffee pod and then setting it inside the single-serve coffee maker with all the precision of a surgeon. “Do you want another?”
“I’ll get it myself.” Ryan wasn’t going to give his brother any excuse to intentionally drag his feet, and that was exactly what he was doing. They had their differences, but when it came to being on time, it was a trait they shared. Today Adam was taking his sweet time and risking the possibility they might be late just to annoy him.
Adam shrugged as he sat on one of the stools around the island. Then while Ryan watched, he added cream and carefully measured out sugar as if he was making a cake rather than a cup of coffee. Once finished, he mixed the contents, removed the spoon, and set it on a napkin. His brother was going all out this morning in his efforts to get on his nerves.
After downing the last of his coffee, Ryan walked to the counter for another. Two, even oversized ones like he’d just finished, would not cut it this morning. “Are you going to drink it or look at it?”
“It needs to cool. I don’t want to burn my tongue and then not be able to enjoy breakfast.”
Yeah, he’d remember this and be sure to repay the favor at a later date.
Adam blew across the top of the cup, something Ryan hadn’t seen his brother do since they were ten years old and they made hot chocolate after playing in the snow all day. “Last time you were this excited about breakfast was when we got to eat with our favorite characters down in Florida.”
He remembered the trip. It’d been the first time their parents took them to the theme parks in Orlando. On their second morning there, they’d eaten breakfast while their favorite characters strolled through the restaurant posing for pictures and autographs. Yeah, he had been excited for that particular meal, so much so he’d barely slept the night before. What he was feeling now wasn’t excitement. It was more anticipation. Once he left his house, he had a whole day and night with Kenzie to look forward to. And since Adam wouldn’t be around tonight, if Kenzie invited him to spend the night again, he’d take her up on the offer.
Finally, Adam sipped his coffee. “Perfect.”
“What a relief.” Ryan took a swig from his cup.
The raised coffee cup didn’t hide Adam’s grin. “Don’t worry, we won’t be late. I like Kenzie, and I wouldn’t want to do anything that’ll earn me a black mark in her book, just in case she realizes she could do much better with me.”
“In your dreams.”
Despite his brother’s theatrics, Ryan rang Kenzie’s doorbell at exactly eight thirty. Right on cue, Marley’s dulcet tones reached them outside.
“Great timing.” Kenzie didn’t hesitate as she reached for his hand.
He’d wondered if she’d be able to tell them apart this morning. It usually took people a while before they could tell them apart, and she’d only met Adam yesterday. In fact, except for their friends in school, many of their classmates had always looked at their shoes or their backpacks to help identify them. Today, nothing about their outfits would help Kenzie. Since they had similar taste in clothes, they were both dressed in cargo shorts and plain T-shirts, his being dark blue while Adam’s was gray. Even their shoes were a similar style.
“The pancakes need about another two minutes in the oven,” Kenzie said.
He’d been eating pancakes all his life, and he’d never heard of anyone making them in the oven. But hey, there was a first for everything.
If it was her father standing there, he’d think twice, but it wasn’t. Reaching for Kenzie’s waist, he pulled her close. As if they’d been doing it all their lives, her arms went around his neck as he lowered his mouth to hers. The taste and feel of her lips against his did what three cups of coffee hadn’t been able to. The sluggish fog in his head cleared, and energy pulsed through his body. Ryan moved a hand and cradled her head while he traced the seam of her lips, urging her to open for him.
Denied his usual greeting, Marley nudged the back of his leg, but he ignored it. He’d give the dog some attention after. Maybe even a treat or two, if he behaved later tonight and didn’t bother them too much.
“I think that’s our cue to beat it, buddy,” Adam said, and the nudging against Ryan’s leg stopped.
Later he’d have to thank his brother.
When he finally came up for air, she smiled at him, nearly knocking him on his ass. How rude would it be to leave his brother to eat alone while they went upstairs?
“I think I hear the timer.” Moving out of his embrace, she took his hand again. “I hope you’re hungry.”
As if to answer, his stomach rumbled.
Fresh fruit and toast were already on the kitchen table. Three covered pans sat on the stove, and the barest hint of something sweet filled the air.
“Kenzie, your dog and I were just about to help ourselves to whatever you have on the stove. It’s a good thing you got here when you did,” Adam said as he scratched Marley, who sat at his feet.
After she shut off the timer, she pulled open the oven door. “He knows better. Well, at least most of the time.”
Ryan couldn’t stop himself from watching as she bent over to pull the oven rack out. This morning she had on a pair of denim shorts that encased the sexiest ass he’d ever seen, and much later he fully planned to help her out of them. She’d paired them with a Washington National’s T-shirt, an appropriate choice considering their destination this afternoon.
“You can’t say the same about my brother,” Ryan said as he dragged his eyes away from the oven and glanced at his brother. Like a good boy, Adam’s attention was still on Marley, not the enticing image at the stove.
She set a small cast-iron skillet on the stove before reaching into the oven for another. “Help yourself to what’s on the table or coffee. The cups are in the cabinet near the dishwasher.”
Adam didn’t waste any time getting up. “Do either of you want some?”
Ryan nodded, his eyes once again following Kenzie as she worked.
“My cup is on the counter,” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ve never heard of anyone making pancakes in the oven. Is it some kind of family recipe or something you came up with?” Kenzie had told him she liked to experiment in the kitchen.
“You’ve never had German pancakes?” Carefully she removed one golden brown pancake from the pan and placed it on a plate. “Sometimes they’re called bismarcks.”
Shaking his head, Ryan accepted the coffee his brother handed him. “Not that I remember. I have had French toast.”
Kenzie uncovered one of the pans on the stove and added the omelet inside to the plate. “Much like with French toast, these pancakes have no ties to the country they are named after.”
He’d always assumed French toast, at least the way it was made in the United States, wasn’t a traditional French food, but he’d never cared enough to find out for sure. Still, it was nice to know he’d been right.
She repeated the process at the stove and carried two plates over. “I prefer fruit on mine, but maple syrup tastes good on them too. Sometimes I’ll use both.”
Slices of avocado and salsa covered the omelets, and Ryan added both strawberries and maple syrup to his pancake before digging in.
“How long are you staying in New Hampshire?” Kenzie dropped into the seat next to him, her plate identical to his and Adam’s.
Knowing his brother, it wouldn’t be a long visit. The guy never took more than a week off from work. While his job required a lot of hours, Adam went above and beyond. He was a textbook example of a workaholic, a trait Ryan was glad he hadn’t inherited from their mom. Actually, of the six Saltarelli children, only Adam and Vanessa seemed to share the trait with their mom.
Washing down a mouthful of food with coffee, he shrugged. “Four or five days. I plan to stop and visit a friend in Rhode Island for a day or so before I head home.”
Ryan admired his brother’s work ethic and dedication, but the guy needed to live a little. Now wasn’t the time or place to again give Adam advice.
“I’ve spent time in New England, but I’ve never visited Rhode Island,” Kenzie commented as she covered her pancake with berries and then maple syrup.
“There are some nice beaches in Newport and Narragansett. Not as nice as the one in Virginia Beach, but I always preferred them to the ones in Maine and New Hampshire. You can get some pretty good seafood in Rhode Island too.”
He had to disagree with his brother there. He much preferred the beaches in New Hampshire. The ones in Narragansett and especially those in Newport were too crowded.
“My parents have a house in Virginia Beach. I love it down there. I wish I had more time to visit when they’re there.” With the top of her pancake completely hidden under a layer of fresh fruit, Kenzie reached for a fork and a knife. “When you drive home, are you going to stop and spend the night again?”
Unless in a rush, Adam always made a pit stop both on his way north and then on the return trip.
Adam smiled, a forkful of omelet almost to his mouth. “Hoping for another chance to compare us and make sure you picked the right brother?”
Under the table, Kenzie squeezed Ryan’s thigh. “Believe me, after last night, I know I’m with the right one. I was just curious.”
His brother pulled out the sad, heartbroken expression he’d perfected when they were kids. “Hey, I understand. But if he ever treats you poorly, call me and I’ll take care of him for you.” Adam cut into his pancake, but again it didn’t reach its final destination because he was too busy talking. “Depending on when I leave Rhode Island, I might just drive straight home.”
“Well, I have a cousin I think would be perfect for you. If I can convince her to visit me soon, maybe you could plan another trip this way.”
Chapter Eleven
Anywhere within a ten-mile radius of Protection First was the last place Gabe should be. Ever since he’d gotten the information from Sam listing where Armstrong and his wife lived and worked, he’d been battling with himself. Keeping his distance and allowing Zane’s boys to follow the couple and report back to him with their daily routines was the safe move. He didn’t want anything to tip Armstrong off. But despite days of surveillance, late yesterday afternoon had been the first time Jax had seen the couple enter their house.
When he got the text saying Armstrong and his wife were home, he’d lost the battle he’d been winning until then. After kicking his last client’s ass in the ring, he jumped on Interstate 95 and headed north. He’d spent the night at one of the chain hotels in the area.
Despite the fairly comfortable bed and the bottle of scotch he’d picked up while getting takeout, rather than sleep, he’d sat on the balcony and considered his options for today, only going inside when the sun appeared in the sky. He could park on Armstrong’s street and watch the house for any sign of the guy or his wife. If he did, he risked some nosey neighbors noticing him and calling the cops. He’d gone above and beyond to avoid any run-ins with the cops since his release from prison. These days he even followed the speed limit to avoid getting pulled over. So although he was more likely to see the guy at his house, watching Armstrong’s business was a safer bet.
Gabe accepted the frozen-fruit concoction and the sandwich from the employee behind the counter and then returned to the table he’d been camped at most of the day, pretending to work on his laptop. Located at the front of the café, it provided him with a front-row view of Protection First across the street. It also let him see anyone approaching the café’s entrance before they walked inside, because the last thing he needed was Edward Armstrong strolling in for lunch and seeing him. When they came face-to-face again, it would be on Gabe’s terms.
A group of college-aged women dressed in workout clothes exited the self-defense and firearms school. With nothing better to do, he’d checked the schedule on the company’s website to see if Armstrong was teaching today. While the website listed the names of the classes, the times, and a brief description of each one, there was no instructor’s name included. En masse, the group crossed the street and headed for the café door.
According to the website, the school closed at four o’clock on Saturdays, and that was three hours away. He’d already been sitting inside the café since eight. As long as he continued to make purchases, management had no reason to ask him to leave, but he wasn’t sure he’d manage another hour in here, never mind three. The beverages and food tasted great, but overpriced cafés that used names he could barely pronounce for their beverages sizes while playing French music were not the type of places he spent his time. And the music was French. He remembered just enough from the four years he’d taken in high school to recognize many of the words.
No, these days he preferred bars that served beer and burgers. A place where he could play a game of pool or find a woman interested in nothing but some sex. There had been a period in his life when he’d stopped visiting those type of places. Instead, he’d spent his nights and weekends with Savannah, Logan, and Ava. Thanks to Armstrong, those days no longer existed. Now his ex-wife lived in Denver, closer to her family, and he hadn’t seen or spoken to his children since the day the FBI arrested him.
Bored out of his mind, Gabe allowed memories of the weekends with his family to emerge from the locked box he kept them in, thoughts he rarely let out because of the black place they always brought him to.
“Maybe you should offer to buy him lunch after class next week,” one of the women who’d left Protection First and come inside the café said as she joined her friends at a table near his.
“He’s old enough to be her father, Caitlyn,” a second woman with long blonde hair streaked with pink added, pulling out another chair at their table.
“I didn’t say I wanted to go out with him. Only that I think he’s handsome, in an older-man, silver-fox sort of way,” her friend replied. “I wonder if he has a son? If he does, I bet he’s gorgeous.”
A fourth woman placed a frozen drink on the table and pulled out a chair. “Someone in class told me he has a daughter. I don’t know if they’re right.”
“Why don’t you ask him, Lisa? I think he’s coming in here.”
The blonde’s comment had Gabe glancing toward the windows just in time to see Edward Armstrong crossing the street. Rage started in his belly and streaked out in every direction, pushing everything from his mind, and his vision clouded.
He could take him out here. Although not sharp, the butter knife he’d gotten with his sandwich would do the job if inserted in the right place.
He won’t suffer that way. Gabe released the knife he hadn’t even realized he’d picked up until then. Angling his chair away from the door, he focused on his keyboard. At the table next to him, the four women called out greetings to Armstrong, and Gabe mentally swore. All he needed was the guy to stop and start up a conversation with the women.
The guy didn’t linger. After he returned their greetings, the women’s conversation turned to their plans for the evening, and Gabe tuned them out.
When he’d sat down, he turned off the sound on his cell phone, not because he cared about disturbing anyone else but because he didn’t want to call attention to himself. Now the device on the table vibrated, and he saw Sam Nixon’s number on the screen. He didn’t want to let the call go to voice mail. He’d been waiting to hear from the guy since their last meeting. If Armstrong was close enough to hear his voice, what were the odds he’d hear it over the other conversations going on inside the café or even recognize it?
Slim. And things were taking longer than he liked already. Gabe couldn’t miss this call and add in more delays.
“Yeah,” he greeted.
“I have the information you wanted.”
He didn’t bother asking for any details. Sam wouldn’t give him any more until he got paid.
“Do you want to meet me at my office again or should I come to the gym?” Sam asked.
Fuck. Both the gym and Sam’s office were three-plus hours away. Not that he wanted to meet the private investigator at either, but Sam’s office was the better option. Saturdays, the gym was either packed or dead. There was no way to know which it would be tonight. Not to mention, his brother might be there. Xander didn’t spend much time at the gym on the weekends, but occasionally if his kids had other plans, he’d spend a few hours catching up on work. If Xander saw him meeting with Sam, he’d ask who Sam was, and Gabe would have to lie.
“I’ll meet you at your office, but I’m not in the area right now. Around six work for you?” On paper, the drive took three hours and forty minutes. In reality, thanks to traffic, it always took longer, and he’d need to stop home and get the guy’s money.
“Yeah, see you then.”
***
Unlike on Gabe’s first visit, the door separating the waiting area from the rest of the space was open tonight, and he took that as an invitation to make his way down to Sam’s office.
