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My gaze swung to Nebraska in time to see her eyes narrowing on Zane.
“Am I supposed to be impressed you know Charlie’s not my birth father?”
I glanced around the table. All eyes were on Nebraska.
Jonas, Smith, Cash, and Layla were all studying her. Kira stared at her screen, her lips twitching.
“Are we starting with the Raven file or Maddon Judd or…” Kira paused and blinked at her laptop screen. “The Candy Apples file.”
I heard Cash snicker, then he muttered, “Vintage.”
Kira’s brows pulled together and she shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Candy Apples versus King Dong,” Cash educated her. When Kira didn’t register understanding, he went on. “In the late nineties, Candy Apples held the gangbang world record—”
“Candy Apples is a porn star?”
“I can’t take credit for that one,” Zane started with a grin.
“That one?” Kira pushed.
“A good friend of mine taught me that trick. There’s something satisfying knowing the stick-up-their-asses suits are reading briefs with their lips curled in disgust.”
“Are you saying you name your operations after porn stars?” Kira said through a laugh.
“Unofficially.”
“How did I not know that?” Kira went on smiling huge. “That’s brilliant. I wanna choose a name.”
Of course she did. Kira was Zane’s mini-me. Though it’d shock the shit out of me if sweet Kira could rattle off adult film star names without the help of the internet.
I glanced over at Nebraska. Her expression was bland but those gorgeous eyes of hers looked like they were dancing with amusement. She wanted to smile like the rest of the people in the room but she wouldn’t allow herself. Since we’d left her father’s house she’d been all business, careful words, fake rehearsed smiles, no hint of a personality. She was watchful, guarded, alert in a way that stated plain it was habit.
But there was an underlying wariness. She almost looked tired, and fuck if I didn’t understand that. Ten years being on constant guard, years before that always being on high-alert, never knowing when or from where a threat would strike. It was the kind of tiredness that seeped into your bones until you forgot it wasn’t normal to be strung so tight there was a real possibility you’d snap.
Nebraska’s gaze shifted around the table, cataloging each person in the room. I’d bet my cushy new job the woman knew exactly who we were. Further, I’d put my townhouse, truck, and bike up that she’d done her homework and had a full dossier on each of us. Her glances weren’t curious, they were knowing. And when her gaze stopped on me, I knew I was right.
Time to test my theory.
“Not sure your man would be best pleased you perusin’ PornHub, Seven,” I joined, using Kira’s callsign.
Nebraska’s eyes went straight to Kira before they dropped to the table.
Too late.
Zane caught her fuckup, too. I knew it when his study of Nebraska became acute.
“Time to start talking, Miss Michaels.”
“Where would you like me to start, Mr. Lewis?” Nebraska returned snidely.
Christ.
The woman must have a death wish.
“You can start by remembering you’re here because I was curious what Charlie Michaels needed help with. That curiosity was more amusement than actual interest. I don’t make a habit of helping criminals out of tight spots. I certainly don’t entertain men who make threats against women who are under my protection. But now that we’ve established you’re an Agency lackey, spit it out so I can tell you no and you can get on your way.”
Smith’s fingers drummed on the table across from me. This was so unlike him I gave him my full attention. He was the quietest, always watching, listening. Then when the planning was over he was the one to point out any flaws or oversights. Not only was Smith the best tracker we had, he was also scary brilliant when it came to strategy.
