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Jax’s fingers flexed. He wanted to pull her in and see where that would go, but they also needed to get the two marshals and their witness inside.
He was still standing there staring after her when Pilsborough stepped in and said, “Cozy.”
Jax turned to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. All he found was a half-empty bottle of tomato sauce and an empty pizza box.
Destain slumped onto the couch with a groan. Jim went tothe wall by the fireplace and sat with his back to it. They all looked exhausted.
Jax pulled open cupboards and flashed his light over a basic kitchenware setup that leaned toward camping. Everything hummed, and the lights flickered on overhead.
“Bingo.” Pilsborough sauntered into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
Jax found a cupboard with canned soups and chili, hot chocolate mix, and a jar of instant coffee. “Only this.” He pulled it out, wrinkling his nose. Behind where the jar had been, he spotted powdered creamer and nearly threw up in his mouth. He set both on the counter and searched for a kettle.
The stove was electric, so it probably ran off the generator as well.
He turned on one the burners and pulled down four cans of chili and a can of tomato soup, which he dumped in a pot beside a metal kettle heating water.
“Wake me when dinner is ready.” Destain settled down on the couch out of sight.
Jim had his eyes closed.
“I should find wood to make a fire.” Pilsborough lifted his chin. “Seems like you’ve got this covered.”
“Anything I need to be concerned about?” Jax asked.
“Just get some food in Destain,” Pilsborough replied. “He gets hangry.”
From the couch, Destain called out, “I heard that!”
Pilsborough grinned in a way that let Jax know he enjoyed getting a rise out of his partner. That was good—it meant they’d worked together long enough Pilsborough trusted him. Jim hadn’t seemed scared or didn’t show it. Maybe the prisoner figured this was as close as he’d get to a vacation. How long was his sentence?
Kenna appeared in the door but stopped. She kicked her boots against the outside of the cabin, depositing the snow outside before she came in, then bent to unlace them. She left her damp boots by the door and deposited what she had in her hands onto the kitchen counter. “Chargers. Plugs. There’s a weapons lockbox in the trunk.” She glanced at him.
She couldn’t lift it.
Pilsborough was about to remove his coat when Jax said, “Can you grab the lockbox?”
The agent shot Jax an odd look, then nodded. “Sure. Look for wood in that crate. And find matches and a newspaper, or some other kindling.”
“On it.” Kenna glanced at him. “Coffee?”
“I’m heating water. It’s instant.”
She laughed. “In some cultures it’s considered a delicacy.”
Jax made a face.
“Agree to disagree, I guess.”
“Is it a deal breaker?” he asked.
“You’ll have to work harder than that to find something to convince me it’s not worth it.”
“I thought the exercise might do it,” Jax said. She’d been shot not long after they met, and he’d effectively been her physical trainer in the months after. Getting her moving every day so she could heal and not develop too much scar tissue. “But the distance is definitely a problem.”
He’d missed her. She knew it.
Kenna shot him a soft look he liked a whole lot. This woman was so different than the one he’d met more than a year ago. She’d given her life to Christ, and it showed. Her gaze drifted to the men in the living room. “You call our mutual friend?”