Page 29 of Saving Jennifer
By the time Noah returned from his “perimeter check,” Jennifer was doubled over with laughter as Marcel described, with theatrical flair, how they’d both ended up tangled in rope twenty feet above the ground, with their mother below, alternating between frantic concern and threats of grounding them until they were eligible for Medicare.
Noah paused in the doorway, his expression softening almost imperceptibly as he took in the scene. “Marcel been entertaining you with heavily embellished childhood stories?” he commented, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.
“Not embellished at all,” Marcel protested. “If anything, I’m downplaying the sheer recklessness of young Noah Temple, future security specialist and bodyguard extraordinaire.”
Jennifer wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “I’m having a hard time reconciling that boy with…” she gestured to Noah’s current, intensely controlled presence.
Something flashed in Noah’s eyes—a hint of that younger, more carefree version of himself, perhaps—before his professional mask slipped back into place.
“People change,” he said simply.
“Not as much as they think,” Marcel countered, giving his brother a knowing look. He turned back to the groceries. “Now, who’s going to help me prepare a meal that doesn’t come from a can or a vacuum-sealed package?”
Jennifer raised her hand eagerly. “I haven’t had a chance to cook since we got here.” She shot Noah a teasing glance. “Someone insists on preparing all the meals himself.”
“Security protocol,” Noah replied automatically.
“See what I mean?” Marcel stage-whispered to Jennifer. “Everything’s a security protocol with him. Next, he’ll be telling you there’s a tactical advantage to letting him fold all the laundry.”
“Actually,” Noah said, the corner of his mouth twitching again, “there is.”
Jennifer looked between the brothers, fascination growing as she observed their dynamic. For all their apparent differences, there was an unmistakable bond between them—a shorthand that only siblings who had weathered life together could develop.
As Marcel turned back to the groceries he’d brought, she caught a peek of the fresh ingredients. Chuckling as he regaled them with yet another tale of Noah’s youthful misadventures, Jennifer found herself smiling more genuinely than she had in months. For a moment, the weight of her upcoming testimony, the danger lurking beyond the mountains, and the painful history with her own half-brother receded.
In its place was something unexpected—a warmth that had nothing to do with the mountain sunshine streaming through the cabin windows and everything to do with the surprisingly comfortable presence of the Temple brothers.
And if her gaze lingered a little longer on Noah as he reluctantly joined them in the kitchen, his guard lowering degree by subtle degree in his brother’s presence…well, that was something she’d examine later, when the danger had passed.
If it ever did.
CHAPTER NINE
Noah stepped outonto the wooden porch, the bourbon in his glass catching the moonlight as he settled onto the Adirondack chair. The night air carried the scent of pine and the distant call of a whippoorwill echoed through the trees. He let out a deep sigh. The sights, the sounds—it felt like home. Though he hadn’t been gone all that long, the trip to New Orleans had been eventful. It felt good to be able to let his guard down, even if it was only for a few minutes.
His brother joined him, easing into the adjacent chair with a quiet sigh. “Jennifer finally asleep?” Marcel asked before taking a sip from his own glass.
Noah nodded, glancing at the cabin door. “Yeah. She’s been through a lot these past few days. She could use the rest.”
The brothers sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the symphony of night creatures and the gentle rustle of wind through the trees. The cabin, perched on the mountainside and surrounded on three sides by the solid foundation of rock from the mountain itself, offered a sense of isolation that Noah had initially found comforting. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“I’ll stay,” Marcel said suddenly, breaking the silence. “You might need the assist.”
Noah turned to his brother. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do. I mentioned Uncle Gator called earlier,” Marcel said, his voice dropping. “Karim Amir has mercenaries combing throughout New Orleans looking for you and Jennifer.” Noah’s grip tightened on his glass. “He thought they might not know you’ve left the city yet, but it won’t take long for them to widen their search. With enough money, they’ll eventually find witnesses or CCTV footage of you on the road.” Marcel paused, the silence fraught with a million possibilities. He studied his brother’s profile in the moonlight, and Noah sat still. His brother’s perusal wasn’t uncomfortable, simply questioning. “It’s good to see you, Noah. It’s been too long.”
Noah stared out at the darkness. “Yeah, I know.”
“A year.” Marcel’s voice carried a hint of reproach. “It’s been months since you moved yourself up here and practically disappeared. No visits home, no calls. Mom’s been worried sick. Every time one of us comes up here, you send us away.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “I needed space, Marcel.”
“Space is one thing. Dropping off the face of the earth is another.” Marcel set his glass down on the small table between them. “We’re family, Noah. You don’t have to go through everything alone.”
“After what happened with Donovan—” Noah began, his voice rough.
“Your commander’s betrayal wasn’t your fault, everybody knows that,” Marcel interrupted. “None of that whole mess was on you.”