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Paige wrapped her hands around the warm mug, grateful for something to hold onto. Just then, Bridger walked in, his face still creased from his pillow.
“Morning,” he mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot. He paused, glancing between Paige and Mason. “Mason, could you give us a minute?”
As Mason nodded and slipped out, Paige braced herself. This was it. Bridger was going to change his mind about letting her undertake the mission. She wouldn’t blame him—she was never on the sharp end of the spear. Kate or Fenn would be better choices. There had to be a way she could outfit one of them with a sample of her DNA that would work the last lock ...
Bridger turned to her, his eyes clear despite the early hour. “Paige, I just wanted to tell you ... you’re ready.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You’re ready,” he repeated. “I’ve got complete confidence in you.”
“Bridger, it’s okay if you want one of the others. I know I’m not?—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “I don’t want one of the others. You’re here now through the Lord’s work. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.”
Paige felt a lump form in her throat, touched beyond belief by his words. “Bridger, I ... thank you.”
He waved her off, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “We’re a team,” he reminded her. “All for one ...”
“And one for all,” she finished, feeling a surge of warmth in her chest.
Bridger nodded, then turned his attention to the espresso machine. Paige sipped her cappuccino, the liquid suddenly tasting sweeter. The nerves were still there, fluttering in her stomach, but now they were tempered with something else—determination.
She was part of this team. She belonged here. And come what may, she was going to see this mission through.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she needed to say next. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
He turned back to her, his expression attentive.
“It’s about my father. I have to admit, it was a shock to learn he’d designed security for the Consortium. But I want you to know, I’ll worry about that later. It won’t affect the mission.”
Bridger’s face softened with understanding. “I appreciate you telling me that. But I’m not worried.”
“You’re not?” she asked, surprised.
“Your father’s involvement is a concern for another day. I have complete faith in your ability to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand.”
She wished she felt the same.
Just as Bridger was about to leave, Cody wandered into the kitchen, looking unfairly luscious with his tousled bed-head. He made a beeline for the espresso machine, seemingly oblivious to the moment he’d interrupted.
Paige watched, torn between amusement and exasperation, as Cody frowned at the machine’s various knobs and levers. He looked like a caveman confronted with modern technology.
Bridger’s gaze flickered between Paige and Cody, a question in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, moving towards the door.
As he passed Paige, Bridger squeezed her shoulder gently. “Get things right between the two of you,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “You both need to have your head in the game. You hear me?”
Paige nodded, her throat tight. “Copy that,” she replied softly.
As Bridger left, Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. She watched Cody fumble with the espresso machine for a moment longer before deciding to put him out of his misery.
“Need help with that?” she asked, moving to stand beside him.
Cody glanced at her, a sheepish grin on his face. “Is it that obvious?”
Paige didn’t return his smile. Instead, she fixed him with a steady gaze. “Cody, we need to talk.”
His expression sobered immediately. “What’s on your mind?”