Authors: Piper J. Drake
Chapter Seventeen
It’d been a morning of cleaning.
Gabe had watched Maylin go through the guest cabin like a whirlwind, sweeping every room methodically. She’d start around the outer perimeter and sweep inward toward the center of each room. The resulting pile of dust was gathered in a dustpan and taken out the back door, even if the front door was closer.
He’d asked about it at first but she was nowhere near chatty. And he couldn’t blame her. Coaxing her to take a hot shower and tucking her into bed the night before had been the limit of what they could repair between them for the time being. She’d taken the news from Harte with her to bed to think on, and from the dark circles under her eyes, she’d slept about as much as Gabe had.
An inner drive pushed at him to take better care of her, but he couldn’t make her sleep. And he wouldn’t ever suggest she set aside her worry.
His phone rang, the caller ID popping up Lizzy’s avatar. “Diaz.”
“Marc and Victoria will land in two hours.” Lizzy probably knew Maylin had been out in the night, but she didn’t ask. “I’ll pick them up from the airport and check on what’s left of your car on the way back. If the police have cleared out, we’ll sweep the area for any leftover fragments they might’ve missed.”
“Be careful.” He was fairly certain Jewel had been messing with him. But the hard part about dealing with other good mercenaries was the way they all took pains to be unpredictable.
“Always.” Lizzy paused. “Our ETA brings us back here about lunchtime. Should we pick anything up on the way?”
Gabe leaned back from the desk to get a line of sight on Maylin cleaning the bedroom. “She set a bunch of rice to soak overnight. I’m thinking she’s planning on cooking something.”
Lizzy chuckled. “No arguments here. Way better than protein shakes and takeout.”
True enough. And as stress behaviors went, Maylin had way more constructive quirks than most people did. Gabe couldn’t count the number of clients they’d had who’d done nothing but pace. He had no patience at all for the ones who went hysterical or screamed at everyone.
“Any chance she’d consider staying after this?” Lizzy sounded as wistful as Lizzy ever got. “The real meals go a long way toward making a body sound. And you two seem to be getting along.”
Not since he’d screwed up royally. “She’s got a catering business to run when all this is done. Pretty high profile.”
“Ah.” She didn’t push. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised. She’s a stand-up woman. I knew I liked her for a reason.”
The more he learned about Maylin, the more he respected her and the more he ached for what he’d crushed with his mistakes.
Once Lizzy terminated the call, he stood. Stretched. Admitted he was procrastinating and took the few steps to catch up with Maylin in the bedroom. Coming to a halt at the door, he rapped his knuckles on the door frame.
“Yes?” She straightened from smoothing out the bedspread.
Gabe lost his words for minute, struck by a simple thing. God, she was beautiful. No makeup, no sharp dress suit or nicely coordinated blouse and slacks. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a simple ponytail. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not even for a second.
“The team will be back in time for lunch.” He offered the latest news because there wasn’t anything else he thought she’d care to hear.
A small smile touched her face and he missed the brighter smiles she’d give him before. “The lunch I had planned takes some time to prep. Mind if I head up to the main house?”
Gabe stepped out of the doorway so she could pass. “Sure. You can go up there anytime.”
“As long as someone knows where I am?” There was a hint of something there. Not bitterness. Something.
“We want to keep you safe.”
He
wanted to most of all. “But we want you to be as comfortable as possible too.”
He didn’t try to suggest she needn’t cook. It’d be an insult. As if he hadn’t learned anything about her at all. And he was afraid to ask her if he could help.
Instead, he followed her up to the main house with his laptop and parked himself at the breakfast bar to do more research and planning while she cooked.
“Still making dim sum?” He’d had some once, in Seattle’s Chinatown-International District. The ingredients she was setting out were varied but didn’t seem as wide an array as he’d guessed would be needed for all those little dishes and dumplings.
She shook her head. “Didn’t have the ingredients to do it really well.”
“I would’ve gone out on a supply run for you.”
She hesitated and he heard her unspoken thoughts loud and clear. He wasn’t allowed to help anymore.
“I figured with the rainy weather, comfort food would go better.”
“The team will like whatever you make.” He tried to infuse his words with sincerity, since she’d probably bristle at reassurance. Walking on eggshells was not his strong suit. “It’s all been incredible so far.”
She gave him another small smile, and he let go his breath, happy she believed him.
They both fell silent then. He continued his research online, catching up on response emails to his queries and running a few specific searches. At the edge of his peripheral, Maylin went about dropping her uncooked rice in a blender complete with the water she’d used to soak it overnight. While it was blending, she took out a deep Dutch oven from the back of the cabinet and put a bunch of large spoons in the bottom. Gabe couldn’t figure out how the hell she’d be cooking with that setup. Next she took out a cake pan and greased it lightly with vegetable oil. Then he was really confused.
She set the Dutch oven on the stove over fire set to the highest setting and poured some water in it. As she turned away, he craned his neck to see inside. The water didn’t quite cover the rounded backs of the spoons on the bottom.
What the hell?
Next, the cake pan was set on top of the spoons with what looked like a thin layer of the rice batter she’d made. Then she covered the whole thing.
No idea what was going on there. But Maylin turned to other ingredients, browning ground pork and fresh minced garlic in a medium pot and filling the kitchen with savory scents to make his mouth water.
Gabe jerked when she turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and gave her a guilty grin. Caught staring. But hell, the magic she worked in a kitchen was beyond him.
“Do you mostly cook Asian foods?” Was that a safe question? Might not be.
But Maylin didn’t seem to mind. “I cook dishes from a lot of different cultures. I love Italian and Greek. But when I’m worried or anxious, I tend to fall back on the dishes I learned to make growing up. Less likely to mess those up when my mind is working through other things.”
Made sense. “Like any Brazilian dishes? Or Portuguese?”
“Love eating the food, not so good at cooking it...yet.” Maylin continued to work as she spoke, pouring water into the pot of browned meat and garlic. “I’d love to learn.”
“I’ve got a couple of dishes I remember.” Maybe. Sort of. “Really simple dishes.”
Maylin laughed. It was short and quiet, but it was still a laugh and he’d take it. “Simple is usually the best place to start with any new cuisine. I like to learn the basic foundation dishes and then build from there.”
Smart. Practical. Methodical in the way she approached things. And so very talented. He could see why her parents had thought she’d do well as a doctor. And he was very glad she’d followed her heart instead. People tended to lose some of their spark when they were forced into a profession they didn’t have a passion for, and he wanted to see Maylin happy.
“I take it you didn’t do much cooking as a kid.” Her statement was a hesitant invitation, and he was not going to pass it up. Not this time.
He owed her a few more pieces of himself.
“No. Not much. My dad worked and my mom was home until I hit high school. She wanted us to be the perfect white-bread family from the television show reruns she watched every day. Mostly she made sure we sat down to meals on a regular basis, even if we didn’t talk to each other any other time of the day.” His dad hadn’t been the “toss the ball around in the yard” type. He worked too hard.
“Did you ever help her in the kitchen?” Maylin lifted the cover on the Dutch oven, releasing a big cloud of steam. Reaching in with mitt-covered hands, she pulled out the cake pan and immediately flipped it onto a clean cutting board. A smooth, white circle fell flat on the board. She re-oiled the cake pan, poured more rice batter into it, and back it went into the Dutch oven. Then she returned to the stuff on the cutting board and rolled it with nimble fingers. Using a sharp knife, she cut it into half-inch-wide segments and dropped them into a bowl of water next to the sink.
He still had no idea what they were. “No. I was kind of a prick as a kid. Never occurred to me to do anything but my chores. And them only because I had to.” He’d been ungrateful.
“You were young.” The kindness she gave him was more than he deserved.
“I’ve had plenty of time to wish I’d been a better kid.”
A pause. “They’re gone now?”
“Yeah. Car accident when I was a freshman in high school.” And hitting the foster care system at that age had been a bitch.
“I’m sorry.” How was she still so sincere? So empathetic without smothering him with pity.
God, he didn’t want her pity.
“It is what it is. I was lucky to get foster care. Not gonna lie, though, it’s hard enough for young kids. No one wants you when you’re almost old enough to care for yourself. Especially when you’re angry at the world and not worth the trouble.”
“But someone did, I hope?”
He considered, sifting through old and bitter memories. The whole sharing thing was coming easier than he’d thought it would with her, but it still wasn’t what he’d call easy. “Somebody kept me because it was the right thing to do. And they gave me some good perspective on life. But I wouldn’t say there was more than that.”
His foster family hadn’t kept in touch once he’d turned eighteen. Not even letters during basic training.
“So this team is your family now. You watch out for them, make sure they all get out of danger before you do.” Maylin was still busy working with her batter, steaming those...things. Her other pot simmered and filled the kitchen with an incredibly delicious smell, some sort of soup. He wanted her to be a part of his life more than he’d ever wanted anything else. His team was family. She’d become more.
“Don’t tell them.” None of them were the sort to say that kind of thing. Part of the reason each of them functioned in the team was because, while they’d lay their lives down for each other, they also understood not to waste those lives. To go on if they had to. “But yeah, I guess so. We’re there for each other. Most people with actual families don’t fall into this kind of work.”
“Families by blood. You all are an actual family too, by choice.”
He didn’t argue with her because it resonated with him. Truth. Even if there were some complications in there.
“You’re all good people.” Maylin was setting out bowls and filling them with those white segments unraveled.
Well, shit, she’d made noodles from scratch.
* * *
“Whatever is going on in the kitchen, it smells like heaven!” Marc called from the front door.
Maylin met Gabe’s brooding gaze and smiled, hoping to lighten up the dark place he’d gone to. “Perfect timing.”
His answering lopsided grin tugged at her. “Yeah.”
She busied herself ladling clear broth from her pot into each bowl of noodles, making sure each of them had a good helping of the ground pork and vegetables she’d included. Ho fun soup was one of her favorite comforts, and considering the confused state she’d been in when she’d woken, comfort was definitely on the menu.
One phone call last night and their fortune had changed. All they needed to do was actually find An-mei and they could get her back. Nothing should’ve dampened that hope.
But she teetered back and forth between wanting to hug Gabe and to put as much distance between them as humanly possible.
When he’d brought her inside and told her about Harte’s call, he hadn’t expected everything to have been repaired between them. If he had, they would’ve been finished. But it was because he’d understood it didn’t erase her feelings, the break of trust, that she was struggling to decide what they were now.
He’d made his intent clear: he wanted to repair what was between them and explore even further once this nightmare was over.
And most of her wanted it too. There was a tiny part of her warning of betrayal and whispering about keeping secrets. She didn’t want to turn to someone she was supposed to be able to trust and have them turn away from her. Wasn’t sure she could survive Gabe turning away from her.
Coward.
Yup. She was.
“We have news and we are starving.” Marc came into the kitchen full of barely contained energy, giving Maylin a rakish grin. Victoria and Lizzy were barely a step behind.
Gabe had already closed his laptop and moved it out of the way, so Maylin started putting their bowls up on the breakfast counter for them.
“One of these days, perhaps we should use an actual table.” Victoria perched on a stool despite her words and leaned forward to take in the scent of the steam rising from her bowl.
“Do you ever have time?” Maylin placed spoons and forks across each bowl. “Normally we’d go with chopsticks, but there aren’t any here besides the ones I use for cooking.”
“With food this good, we should start making time.” Victoria sipped delicately and closed her eyes, uttering a hum of appreciation. After a moment she looked around again and nudged Marc. “We could stock chopsticks, couldn’t we?”
“There were way more kinds of chopsticks than I thought possible when I looked.” Marc set his fork and spoon aside in favor of picking up his bowl and sipping straight from the rim. Totally okay in Maylin’s opinion. She did the same when she was alone in her apartment. “Plastic ones, metal ones, wood ones. Some of them were pointed at the end. No clue which kind worked best and I wasn’t about to get the disposable ones we get from Chinese takeout places.”