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Emma was tired and a little confused. She certainly wasn't sure what the two men had gone on about, but she instantly liked Finley. That was until he mentioned Bonnie and Laura. A small frown wrinkled her brow as she gave Finley a questioning look, but the older man gave nothing away as Liam gently tugged her through the door again and out into the open.
Home...sounded good. They didn't talk much on the way back, walking swiftly and carefully through the crowds until they finally made it to their small sanctuary. Emma's legs were on fire, sore and ready for a rest, but her mind hadn't stopped working. And her stomach was grumbling for attention. She needed food and strong dose of caffeine.
"Well, that certainly was productive or so it seemed." She murmured, kicking off her sneakers and sighing with relief as she wiggled her sock clad toes. From behind she heard Liam moving, unzipping his jacket and removing his weapons as she padded across the room and straight for the kitchen. "I'll make us something to eat while you unload." She shot over her shoulder and began preparing the coffee before pulling out the fixings for sandwiches. Obviously Finley thought the other two women on the team would have something to say. Obviously, Liam had been involved with both and everyone was waiting for a fight to break out. She wanted to think she was above all that catty stuff, but then again, had never had to worry about these sort of things. Her dating life had been very minimal.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she busied herself around the tiny kitchen, trying to shove away her worries. What was the point? They had slept together once. They weren't in love...were they? That was silly, they barely knew each other. Had only shared one night of mutual pleasure. They were both consenting adults and had much more to worry and think about.
With plates fixed and mugs of steaming hot coffee finished, she served everything up with a small smile and once again as soon as her eyes fixed themselves on his handsome face, her pulse skittered out of control. "So...what are we discussing?" She asked casually, plopping her bottom down before picking up her food and taking a bite.
****
She was a willing partner, he thought. They'd done a lot of walking in the past few days and she'd been uncomplaining. She also knew when to stick to him to follow the paths of least resistance and exposure.
Intelligence has a lot to do with it....
....and a fear of dying.
Whatever it was, he didn't care. Emma fit in and the only shame was that in this instance, she was the target.
He was glad to be free of the gun. Walking around with it in his pants for such long periods could get tiresome, but he didn't wear a holster for fear it would be spotted and also because he could get quicker access to it in case of a confrontation. He watched Emma walking around, trying to get some looseness into her muscles.
"That would be good, Irish," he said quietly. "Thanks."
It didn't take her long to be busily preparing sandwiches and coffee. He watched her work. He could
really
get used to this. He appreciated her effort. She must be tired herself. He would have preferred a beer, but for the moment he was happy to have the sandwich and coffee. She worked effectively, with the bearing of someone who did whatever they did with the greatest care, whether it be working on a drug to cure a virus or making a humble sandwich. Her brown hair hung on her shoulders and her petite hands worked quickly. He didn't regret last night. He hoped that she didn't....
The beer can wait.
Emma put the food down on the bench and then tiredly sat down on one of the stools. He moved over to her. He was absorbed in his thoughts, admittedly mainly of her, and he was enjoying the silence. Of course, it didn't last.
He nearly smiled.
I don't mind so much now, Irish.
He walked over slowly to the bench next to her and sat down. He had a bite of his sandwich and then had a sip of his coffee. Strong, just the way he liked it. Shit, she was nearly making it better for him than he did himself. He slowly finished chewing his small bite of the sandwich and swallowed.
"We're going to try and have Simon here tomorrow," he said. "Between the two of you, you'll be able to let us know what you need. There are facilities we can commandeer in the east, but closer to here I'm not so sure. Bonnie will be able to tell us."
She nodded as he took another bite of his sandwich.
He smiled at her.
"Keep feeding me like this and I'll start looking like Carl," he said.
He kept looking at her. His voice was low.
Shit, mate, she's only a woman you're helping. So what about last night?
For a second he was worried, but then he realized it was his own mind and not The Voice.
"We also really need to disarm the shackles. I can't see how you can do your work and how I can do my work if we have the restriction of them on us. Not that I haven't enjoyed being close to you...." his voice trailed off.
He knew what he wanted to do.
Ah, fuck it.
He placed his coffee cup back on the bench and sat on the edge of his stool so that their knees were barely apart.
"Irish," he whispered. "I never thought I would feel like this again or that I should even be feeling like this now, but...."
He leaned forward and put one hand under her chin to lift it slightly. He looked into her brown eyes and noticed the light dancing on the golden flecks in them. He gently pulled her chin slightly closer and planted a light kiss on her lips. He moved his head back to look at her again. They were both silent for a few moments.
Yep.
That's better than the beer.
****
She watched him eat as she waited for his answer and when he finally spoke, she listened intently and processed the info, digesting it silently. Then he smiled and his voice dipped low, making her feel all funny inside.
His eyes took her in and for a long moment she just held his gaze, her heart kicking up again. "Well, maybe a like my men a little beefier." She teased, her eyes sparkling. My men? She worried what he would think of that! It dawned on her that she was slowly staking claim. Thankfully he didn't continue along the lines of that conversation and returned to the problem at hand.
She swallowed another bite and gaze at him, wondering what he was thinking. His eyes were intense as he moved closer, their knees almost brushing.