Mine

Footsteps sounded right before Gabe stepped into her line of vision, holding something in his hand. He winked at her, then went right up to his son. “Look who’s home. This is a surprise.”

“Clearly.” The smile that broke over the kid’s face looked genuine and warm. “Hey, Dad.”

Gabe wrapped an arm around Brandon’s shoulder and pulled him in close. Touched a hand to his hair in a gesture that struck her as almost reverent. Like something he’d been doing forever, to build the bond between them.

She didn’t understand this type of family. She knew about fear and carefully chosen words. No one surprised anyone. Her mother never raised her voice and her father always did. He screamed about everything. Seeing the kitchen a mess with a butter knife sticking to the countertop and crumbs falling on the floor would have set her father on fire. Days later they’d all be paying for not cleaning up that one time before he came downstairs earlier than usual in the morning.

Not here. Gabe held up the knife with two fingers and dumped it in the sink as he lifted an eyebrow at Brandon. The kid shrugged. Even grumbled when Gabe reached over and took a big bite of the toast sitting there.

Gabe dropped whatever was in his hand on the countertop as he chewed then swallowed. “Forget to tell me something?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Brandon said after a quick glance in her direction.

As if these two cornered the market on shocks this morning. “Me, too.”

“Eyes stay up.” Gabe ended his point by rolling his.

Brandon nodded even as he struggled to follow that order. “Yes, sir.”

With an ease that came from living together, Gabe reached around Brandon and grabbed the coffeepot. They worked in sync, shifting this and moving that until Gabe held a mug. “In case you skipped over the introductions or shock held your minds captive, Brandon, this is Natalie. Natalie, my son, Brandon.”

He made it all sound so light and carefree. Never mind that they’d been holed up in a cabin in the packed snow, fighting with Rick and threatening the man’s employees. She had to question if Brandon had any idea about the danger his father wallowed in every day. Kind of made her wonder why Gabe took the risk.

She shook her head to clear away the haze descending on her. She had so many questions and knew now wasn’t the time for any of them. Then she picked up on the silence. Noticed them both staring at her.

She tugged the edge of the shirt a little harder. Bent over just a bit more to hide whatever needed hiding. “What?”

“You did know he had a son, right?” Brandon asked.

“I thought you were eight.” She just sort of blurted that out. Once she did there was no way of calling it back.

His eyes widened. “Sure, ten years ago.”

Gabe leaned in, brushing his shoulder against Brandon’s. “She’s doing the math.”

“Everyone does. He was seventeen when my mother got pregnant. Eighteen when I was born.” Brandon balanced his palms against the counter and smiled at her. “He’s been giving the condom speech ever since.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Gabe ruffled Brandon’s hair before tipping his mug in her direction. “Coffee?”

At this point she might need something stronger. Images bombarded her brain. She’d paged through Gabe’s file so many times. Nothing she saw now, the house, Brandon, the easy camaraderie between the two, fit with the lethal man the government had trained as a weapon. The juxtaposition was surreal.

And she was almost naked, which made the situation even weirder. “I think I should—”

Before she could even finish Gabe leveled a finger in her general direction. “Do not even think of leaving that spot or going upstairs and putting on clothes.”

Brandon hissed as he winced. “Wow, Dad.”

“Or jumping out a window,” Gabe added.

She had to give him credit for understanding her, because the thought did run through her mind. “I need clothes.”

“We’ll debate that later, but I doubt you want to walk up stairs in that short shirt while we stand down here and watch.” He slipped the ball of material from his side of the counter to hers. “Lounge pants. They’ll swamp you but they’re good enough for now.”

“I’m one of his cases.” For some reason she felt the need to explain that to Brandon. Ignoring the shirt that was obviously not hers and the total lack of a bra and underwear, she was here for a reason . . . sort of.

Brandon cleared his throat. Did a pretty sucky job of hiding a laugh behind a fake cough. “Really?”

“Well, okay. There’s more happening.” She wiped a hand over her face, half hoping it would make her disappear. When it didn’t, she practically jumped into the pants then held them up before they could slide back off her waist again. “I really think I should go upstairs.”

This time Gabe pointed at the empty barstool on the other side of the counter from the males of the household. “Sit.”

Demands. Really not her thing. “Your son is standing there, so I’m going to let that slide.”

“Ha! Good for you.” Brandon took the cup out of his father’s hand and started pouring. Instead of giving it back to Gabe, he set it in front of the seat Gabe told her to take. “Black or do you want something in it?”

She debated bolting or toughening it out. Decided sitting down would make it easier to keep the oversized pants up. She could hide part of her under the counter while she silently cursed Gabe for his tendency to tell half a story.

“I think I need full strength this morning.” She slid onto the stool and ignored Gabe’s satisfied smile.

Once everyone had coffee, Gabe leaned his hip against the counter and faced Brandon. “Spill it.”

She had no idea what was happening, so she just watched. Waited to see if the nasty side of Gabe, the side she’d never seen, came flying out. If it did she didn’t know what she’d do, except put her body in front of Brandon’s.

He shrugged as his gaze went to the countertop, then into the great room, then across the kitchen to the refrigerator. Everywhere but his father’s face. “I wanted to come over and say hello.”

“Nope.” Gabe broke eye contact to glance at her. “When a teen boy leaves college on a weekend and heads home, he wants something.”

Good to know. “Like what?”

She understood what motivated people—greed, revenge, honor, a cause. Kids were like a science experiment to her. Their minds seemed jumbled, and little they did made sense to her. Except for those in countries who were trained to fight or acted the part of terrorists, and those kids had ceased being kids long ago, she didn’t get them.

Brandon tried the same tact. “A few hours with my dad.”

Even she knew that wouldn’t fly. The kid had an obvious tell, or three. He also had spunk, but lying straight to his father’s face seemed to be a problem for him. She guessed in the world of parenting, that was the equivalent of a superpower.

Gabe downed the contents of his cup and set it down on the table. “Nice try. You knew I was away.”

“Which was why I was a little surprised when I heard you come in last night.”

Gabe frowned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well.” Brandon’s gaze flipped to her then back to his father. “You seemed busy.”

She felt a rush of heat on her cheeks. This kid had her struggling to remember what happened when they walked in the door last night. How much and what he could have overheard. Something withered inside her at the thought.

“This just gets better and better,” she mumbled under her breath, as she hoped she’d disappear in a big puff of smoke. If only her CIA cronies could see her now.

“I think he figured out we’re having sex,” Gabe said in a dry, let’s-be-serious tone.

Talk about oversharing. She wrapped both hands around the mug and held on for dear life. “Are you guys always so chatty in the morning?”

Brandon shot her an apologetic smile. “You’re embarrassing her.”