Stifling the urge to flip back her hair, she walked to the coffeemaker and poured herself a mug before taking a seat at the counter. “I haven’t been shopping in a while.”
“We’ll remedy that today,” he commented as he turned off the flame beneath the fry pan.
Having only seen him eat prepared meals, she said, “I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I can on occasion.” He dished out the steaming scrambled eggs and sausage onto two plates.
“My dad taught me the basics, enough that I can get by.” She let out a wry laugh. “I’m still not comfortable with a steak or fish.”
“I can show you how to grill a flawless steak or poach a fish to perfection.”
Somehow his words didn’t strike her as a boast, but were simply a statement of fact. The man knew how to do things.
“That would be great.” The idea of him giving her a cooking lesson thrilled her more than she cared to admit. “Did your mother teach you?”
Westley set a plate in front of her along with a fork and stared at her a moment before replying. “One of my foster mothers was a gourmet chef and she made it a point to teach each kid that came through her home how to cook. She made cooking fun and interesting. She let us experiment with food and spices and such.”
Absorbing his words, Felicity wasn’t sure what to say. Remembering how he’d shut her down yesterday when she’d asked about his father, she hesitated probing further. But then again, he’d volunteered the information. She could hear the fondness in his voice as he spoke of the foster parent who’d taken the time to teach him to cook, but she couldn’t help but hurt for his lack of a normal childhood. “How many foster homes were you in?”
Carrying his plate, he came around the island and sat beside her. “Four.”
Her hurt for him quadrupled. “How old were you when you entered the system?”
“Ten.”
But his father hadn’t passed on until Westley was seventeen, she recalled. Obviously, there was more to the story there. Curiosity drove her to ask another question. “What happened to your parents?”
“Let’s bless this food and eat it before it gets cold,” he said.
She bowed her head. “Dear Lord, bless this food to our bodies and our bodies to Your service. Amen.”
When she raised her gaze, she found Westley staring at her.
“My dad’s blessing,” she explained.
“I like it.” He shoveled a forkful of egg and sausage into his mouth.
He wasn’t going to make it easy to get him to open up. And for the life of her she couldn’t understand why it was so important that he did. Granted, they would be together, close together, for the foreseeable future and she was putting her life in his hands. Trusting him to have her back.
Getting to know each other better seemed logical. Practical. It would deepen the trust between them. But she could be patient. Letting the subject drop for now, she ate, enjoying the heat of the meat-infused eggs.
After her last bite, she sighed with contentment. “My dad would make this combo on Saturday mornings. My mom didn’t like the spiciness. But I love it. Thank you so much.”
“I guessed as much last night when you asked for extra jalapeños in your tacos. And you’re welcome.”
She grinned. “I own stock in antacids.”
His laugh was rich and deep and shuddered through her with a delicious wave of warmth.
His cell phone rang. He set his fork on his empty plate and excused himself to take the call. He opened the back door, letting Dakota outside while he stepped onto the porch. Felicity could hear the low murmur of his voice as she washed their dishes and the frying pan, then set them on the drying rack next to the sink.
Westley returned to the kitchen. “That was Justin. The meeting has been moved up. We need to get to base command pronto.”
“Let me just brush my teeth and I’ll be ready to go.” She hurried upstairs, forcing from her mind all thoughts of cooking lessons, foster homes and delicious male laughter. She needed to stay focused.
After securing her hair into a regulation braid with the ends tucked out of sight under her beret, she finished getting ready. She paused on the landing to the stairs. Below, Westley had squatted down to Dakota and was rubbing him behind the ears. The dog’s eyes practically rolled back into his head with pleasure. Her insides melted a little at the show of affection between dog and man. And some part of her yearned to have that same sort of attention directed to her.
She nearly snorted aloud at the ridiculous thought. Get a grip, she told herself. Just because Westley was being nice to her while he was forced to have her underfoot didn’t mean she had to go all mushy about him. Still, she couldn’t deny the tender feelings growing in her heart. She ached at the thought that he’d grown up in foster care. She wondered why. What had happened to put him in that position?
Patience, she reminded herself. Her father always said she had a gift for getting others to open up. She’d redirected that ability to the dogs while working with them. Eventually, she’d crack Westley’s hard shell and work the story out of him. She only hoped she was brave enough to handle whatever she found inside.
* * *
Westley held open the door to base command for Felicity to enter before him. Carrying her camera bag over her shoulder, she smiled her thanks to him as she passed to enter the building. She had a great smile that reached her blue-green eyes. Something he’d tried hard in the past not to notice because he’d been her commanding officer.
Right now, though, he let himself take all of her in, including the vanilla scent wafting from her hair. This morning when she’d come downstairs for breakfast she’d worn the long strands loose and swinging before she’d braided it and tucked up under her beret. He liked that she wore a minimal amount of makeup, just enough to highlight her already pretty features.
He gave himself a mental shake as they were ushered into the conference room. He needed to keep his head in the game and ignore the attraction and affection for Felicity building in his chest. He couldn’t believe he’d confessed he’d been in foster care. Revealing such intimate details of his past hadn’t been intentional, yet talking about the woman who’d taught him to cook to Felicity had come easily. It distressed him how easy a lot of things were with Felicity.
The conference room was filled, every chair at the table taken. Ian leaned against the wall and nodded in greeting as Westley and Felicity took positions beside him. Base commander Lieutenant General Hall seated at the head of the long table, held up a hand to gain the room’s attention.
To the right of the lieutenant general sat FBI agent Oliver Davison and to the lieutenant general’s left was Justin. Also seated at the table were Linc, Ethan and several other members of the Security Forces.
Westley was surprised to see Ethan Webb’s ex-wife, Jillian Masters, seated at the table as well. She wore her US Marine dress uniform and a scowl on her face. Apparently, she wasn’t on base by choice. Westley met Ethan’s gaze. The tension in his friend’s
