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It was clear Frisco knew his supervisor’s intent as he responded, “Yes, sir, we did.” There was no need to explain further since the man was undoubtedly aware of everything that’d happened during and immediately after that mission—but did that include the death wish Haven had asked for?

“Good. Since you’ll be on light duty for a few more weeks, I’m assigning you to Agent Caldwell.

Make sure she has access to anything she needs from us.

From what she’s told me, it’s easier to work out of her house where she has secure access to her agency.

” He turned to Haven. “Agent Caldwell, thank you for opening your home to us. If you need anything, just let Frisco know, and we’ll take care of it. ”

“Thank you, Colonel. I appreciate that.” Haven’s smile was forced, but either the colonel didn’t notice or was polite enough to ignore it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting on my agenda.”

“Certainly.”

As the older man left the room, Ghost held out his hand to Haven. “We haven’t had the pleasure yet, ma’am. I’m Captain Bryson, but you can call me Keane or Ghost, preferably the latter.”

Laughing, Haven shook his hand. “Ghost it is, as long as you don’t call me ma’am. Haven will do.”

“Okay, Haven, if you need anything and Frisco is off duty, you can call me anytime, and I’ll get it done.”

He handed her a small card with his name and cell number on it. She slid it into a pouch attached to the right arm of the chair. “Thank you.”

Turning, he addressed Frisco. “ Let me know if you need anything delivered to Haven’s house—maps, comms, whatever.”

“I will.”

Whatever unspoken message the two men had as their eyes met, Haven couldn’t decipher.

She had no idea if Frisco’s superior knew the details of his visit to her in the rehab hospital or their run-in at physical therapy a few days ago.

After Ghost left them alone, silence filled the air.

It took a moment for Haven to get the courage to look Frisco in the eye.

“It seems I keep apologizing to you, but I’m sorry about the other day.

” When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

“I—you just caught me off guard ... I ... do you mind sitting for a minute so I don’t get a crick in my neck?

There must be a height requirement for Deltas; you all seem awfully tall. ”

Her attempt at easing the tension between them didn’t seem to work, but at least he did take a seat in the front row. He crossed his arms and waited for her to resume the apology he rightfully deserved.

“Thanks. Listen, I had no idea you were going to be assigned to me and I can’t figure out any way to change it.

You have to follow orders, and if I request someone else, it will probably be an issue with your superiors too, and I don’t want that to happen.

So, I’m willing to work with you—hell, I’m willing to be friends with you—but that’s as far as it can go, Frisco.

I’m dealing with way too much to even consider dating someone.

I don’t even know how to date someone who’s not a target or a cover—it’s been far too long. Can we just be—friends?”

She prayed he hadn’t heard that her question was filled with a combination of desperation and hope.

She’d been thinking about him non-stop the past few days and couldn’t deny she was attracted to him.

But it also went beyond that. She’d had fun joking around and conversing with him the other day, even if most of it was work related.

Maybe her loneliness was getting to her.

Avery, Kenny, Carter, and Jordyn were the only people she talked to nowadays.

When she’d been a field operative, her covers and traveling had required her to talk to all sorts of people, even though she would classify herself as a loner.

Acquaintances were fine. The occasional one-night or two-night stand?

Those were okay too. But anything beyond that, she’d rather be alone.

She hadn’t always been that way—she’d had plenty of friends in high school and college.

When her mom and sister were alive, they were always laughing and talking about all sorts of things.

Window shopping was a favorite pastime for the three women.

They loved going into boutiques and trying on all the clothes they couldn’t afford.

It was ironic Haven now owned clothes from the hottest designers in the world.

She’d needed them for her cover, and the US government had paid for them.

Not that she’d been wearing many of them anymore.

There were boxes of high-fashion dresses, shoes, outfits, and accessories in the garage of her new home.

Everything, except for the furniture, had been packed up from her apartments in Los Angeles, New York, Washington D.C.

, and London and shipped to her. She still hadn’t gone through any of the boxes.

It surprised her she now hated the silence and alone time she’d craved these past thirteen years since she’d become a field operative for the most secret agency in the United States.

She wouldn’t admit it, but she liked when Avery insisted on making conversation with her.

She found herself looking forward to Kenny’s phone calls to check on her.

She’d also grown closer to Jordyn and Carter.

They tried to stop in whenever they could, and called when they couldn’t.

But then, at night, after Avery and Roxie returned to the guest house, the deafening silence was starting to drive Haven crazy.

She’d like to have people she could call friends again—she’d been without them for far too long—and she’d like to start with Frisco.

Maybe someday, when she was finally able to do without the damn wheelchair, they could explore a romantic relationship.

Frisco took a deep breath and let it out.

“Friends, huh? I think I can handle that.” A smile spread across his handsome face.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and convince you we can be more—after all, I’m a guy, and you’re an incredibly beautiful woman I’m attracted to—but I promise not to push.

If I overstep my bounds and make you uncomfortable, just tell me, and I’ll back off. Deal?”

She pretended to give it a long, deep thought, before she thrust out her hand. “Deal.”

“Thanks, man.” Frisco shook hands with the young analyst from Fort Hood’s Intelligence Department who’d dropped off some updated maps and satellite photos of several areas everyone thought Mr. Smith might use for the exchange.

He then escorted the soldier out the front door of Haven’s house.

She’d cleared off an area on the rarely-used wooden desk in her office, for her new partner.

Apparently, she spent most of her time in front of the large computer and monitoring system that occupied one whole wall on the opposite side of the room.

A contractor had combined two standard-sized bedrooms to create one large area for her to work in.

Frisco had actually been surprised she’d let him into her inner sanctum instead of banishing him to the dining room or kitchen table.

With help from the intel guy, he’d spent the past hour pinning the maps and photos to the remaining three walls of the office.

More monitors and other equipment would be arriving tomorrow.

When they got the location for the exchange, they’d need to hack into any camera systems in the area.

There’d also be live-action feeds coming from the Deltas’ body cams.

As he strolled back to the office, her assistant’s dog, Roxie, followed him.

She was extremely friendly and had taken to him immediately.

Frisco missed having a dog around. He’d grown up with several, but never knowing when he’d be sent out on a mission or how long he’d be gone wasn’t conducive to owning one.

He eyed the kitchen as he passed. It was designed for a handicapped person, as well as an able-bodied one.

Some of the cabinets and countertops were low enough for Haven to use, and she would be able to roll close to the sink and cook-top, which had an open space underneath for her legs.

The refrigerator/freezer was a side-by-side one, so she could access both.

The bathroom was also retrofitted to accommodate her chair.

The hallways and doorways were wider than normal, and furniture was placed so she could easily maneuver around each piece.

Out back, there was a lap pool where she could strengthen her leg muscles, a patio with plenty of shade to relax on, and the guest house for her assistant.

Avery Knapp was an interesting woman. To most people, she probably looked like exactly what she portrayed—a woman in her midfifties, with a nursing degree, who was an assistant/companion/housekeeper.

While she was all that, Frisco saw more.

When you were in black-ops, it was much easier to spot those who were also part of the community.

It was in the way they greeted you, sized you up, and analyzed whether or not you were a threat, all within a second or two.

She’d eyed him shrewdly when Haven had introduced them the other day, and he’d received her approval after interrogating him, in a roundabout way, for several minutes.

If he hadn’t taken a course on the subtleties of questioning a target without revealing he was on your radar, Frisco may have thought she was just being friendly.

He had no doubt, if he hadn’t passed her test, he would have been out on his ass.

He also hadn’t missed the fact the petite woman was in better physical condition than most people half her age—and she was packing.

The tell-tale signs of a concealed weapon at the small of her back had almost been undetectable under her loose fitting T-shirt and jeans.