“Hey.”
Micah, Logan, and Matthew all looked up when Teagan bobbed her head around the corner peering into the Saint Clare’s living room. “Does anybody mind if Berit Barker stops by after supper?” Looking directly at Logan, their pretty blonde former teammate explained, “She has some papers she needs us to sign for the education accounts they’re setting up for the children.”
All eyes shifted to Matt.
“Fine by me.” Matthew shrugged then glanced around his home. “She’ll just have to deal with a house filled with rambunctious kids. She’s not in my direct chain of command so it’s not like I’m expecting my boss.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, especially if the rumors are true. I don’t object to riding a woman’s coattails to the top positions within the CIA. I’m good with it.”
“Invite her for dessert,” Lizzie suggested from the depths of the kitchen. Micah smiled. Elizabeth had a heart of gold. She’d always been the hostess with the mostess.
“Okay, then we’re all set?” Teagan punched the button on her phone, obviously taking it off mute, then walked away animatedly talking with Berit.
Two hours later when the doorbell rang, Micah glanced around the empty living room. Matthew and Logan had disappeared into the family room to deal with a girls-versus-boys dispute. Elizabeth and Teagan had gone to help a few minutes later.
Feeling very at home since he often stayed with the Saint Clares, he elected himself to open the door rather than replace one of his hosts at the other end of the house. Peering through the peephole, he reassured himself it was Berit Barker.
Flipping the deadbolt, he opened the door just in time to find Berit juggling a glass-covered layer cake and the messenger bag. Micah quickly reached out and rescued the cake as it tilted precariously.
“Let me help you with that,” he offered as he snatched the glass stand and matching dome from her hands.
She deftly caught the long strap of her bag as it slid off her shoulder. “I’m usually not this uncoordinated,” she berated herself. She glanced up at him in confusion. “Captain Reid? What are you doing here?”
He grinned. He couldn’t help himself. She looked so befuddled.
“Please tell me I’m at the right house.” Her eyes darted to the brass numbers beside the door.
“Yes, this is Matthew and Elizabeth’s new house. They’re in the back with Logan and Teagan parenting the four munchkins.” He opened the door wider. “Come on in. It’s cold out there.”
After closing and locking the door behind her, he turned to find her gazing at him.
“I’ll take the cake and put it in the kitchen.” She held out her hands.
The overhead chandelier cast a column of light down onto her. The melting snowflakes sparkled in her shoulder-length, dark brown hair. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, they too, glimmered in the refracted light from the crystals above. They were such an intense brown that he wondered if she wore designer contacts. They seemed to have every color in the spectrum from polished walnut to glittering desert sand.
She was quite pretty for a woman of her age, which Micah figured was close to his own forty-five years. Her pale white skin proved she didn’t spend much time in the sun, or a tanning bed, and the defined curves at each edge of her reddened lips were a testament to her easy smile, like the one she gave him.
He caught himself staring. “Let me take your coat.”
“Thank you,” she said as she slid out of the knee-length trench coat. When he took it in one hand, she grabbed the cake from his other.
After hanging her coat in the closet next to his, he gestured down the hall. “Kitchen is this way.” As soon as they entered, they could see completely into the family room where all four adults were dealing with two sullen boys and two crying little girls.
Berit grimaced. “They might be a while. Sometimes I’m thankful I never had to deal with more than one child.”
“Let’s wait for them in the living room.” Micah picked up his tumbler and offered, “Can I get you a drink? Teagan had wine with supper and there’s plenty left.” He pointed to the bottle of white chilling in a marble cylinder on the wet bar. “I can make you almost any mixed drink if you would like.”
Her smile turned genuine and she looked ten years younger. “White wine would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“So Mak is your only child?” He asked as he poured.
“Yes.” She sighed. “He was more than enough for me to handle, especially when I was stationed in such wonderful places like Tunisia, Somalia and other Third World shitholes.”
At her swearword, he chuckled. “That’s an accurate description.” He handed her the glass. “And what were you doing in northern Africa?”
She gave him a look screaming can you be that naïve? “I work for the CIA. What you think?”
Holy fuck. Would they have put a young mother and her baby undercover in a place like that? He answered his own question. Of course they would.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have answered so casually. I doubt you know anything about me.” Her gaze swept the room and it reminded him of everyone he knew. It was a habit, one that kept them alive.
“Why don’t we have a seat and discuss northern African shitholes? I’ve seen my share of them.” Micah gestured for her to go first. As he followed her, he couldn’t miss the sway of rounded hips and tight butt cheeks in Navy blue dress pants. He revised his initial assessment. She looked damn good for a woman her age.
Berit sat in one of the high-back chairs across from the couch and sipped her wine. Micah chose the matching one and angled his body to face her.
“I apolo—"
“Tunisia, where—”
They both spoke at once.
Before she could finish her apology, Micah took control of the conversation. “Where were you in Tunis? Sfax? Sousse?” Those were the most popular, and populous towns in that country.
“I was in Ben Gardane, close to the Libyan border.” Her grin was sardonic. “It was a far cry from the tourist-friendly resorts along the Mediterranean. Most of the people there didn’t know if they were in Libya or Tunisia, it all looks the same. There were guards on the main roads, but the government—that was new when I was there—didn’t have enough money to patrol the backcountry. Smuggling jihadists to the training camps in Libya was the best paying job around.”
Micah couldn’t believe that she would take the baby into that environment. “How old was Mak?”
She cocked her head to the side, as though in thought, for a minute. “He turned ten when we lived in Tunisia.” She shook her head. “He was like a sponge when it came to languages. We’d only been there a week, maybe ten days, when I took him to the market. That little kid negotiated like a pro for every piece of food we took home. He sounded like he’d been born and raised in the Sahara Desert.”
“He learns quick. Adapts to his environment. No wonder he went into the SEALs.” Every man who pinned on a Trident had a different story, but they were all intelligent and highly adaptable. He’d look into Makensey Barker.
Berit set her glass on the coffee table. “He’d be bored in any other specialty.”
“Where did this cake come from?” Elizabeth’s voice drifted in.
Standing, Berit headed for the kitchen. “I couldn’t arrive empty-handed, especially since I was interrupting your evening.”
“Berit.” The warmth in Teagan’s voice was evident. “I didn’t realize you’d arrived. I’m sorry, but we got tied up with the kids. They’re so tired after the long drive.”
All four children, talking at once, darted past the adults and up the stairs.
“I’ll be up in five minutes to make sure that each of you brushed your teeth.” Elizabeth then turned her attention to Berit. “You didn’t have to bring anything. I went crazy earlier in the week baking pies and I was going to pull one of them out and reheat it.”
“You’d be doing me a favor if you ate this cake.” Berit looked sheepish. “If you guys don’t eat it, I’m just going to have to throw it away.”
Teagan grabbed dessert plates and forks while Elizabeth dug through a drawer until she found her cake server. Micah stood next to Logan and Matthew, lined up like starving, drooling dogs.
The three women worked together as though they had been doing so for years. Micah wondered if that kind of teamwork was learned or if it was innate to females. Since he’d never had a mother, he’d never been able to watch women interact. He was fascinated by the way Berit just automatically fell into step with Elizabeth and Teagan, handing each man a plate of dessert.
When the women joined the men in the living room, they immediately filled the couch. Matthew dropped into the overstuffed chair adjacent to the end, closest to Elizabeth, leaving the high-back chairs to Micah and Logan.
Elizabeth took one bite and moaned. She chewed slowly then swallowed. “Oh. My. God. You must tell me, Berit, where did you buy this cake?”
“Well, let me see,” Berit teased. “All the sugar, eggs, and flour, oh, and the chocolate, came from Kroger’s.”
“Are you telling me this is a real homemade cake…like from scratch? I didn’t know anybody still made cakes that way.” Elizabeth shoved another forkful into her mouth.
“I feel so damn successful when I can take a cake mix and manage not to burn half the cupcakes. I bow to you, Queen of the Kitchen.” Teagan made a bowing motion toward Berit. “I couldn’t do this.”
“Teagan, sweetheart, you’re getting much better at cooking,” Logan noted.
She burst out laughing. “It’s been trial by fire…literally. Who knew that you can’t put grease in the pan then run upstairs to stop World War III from erupting? I swear I was only gone thirty seconds.”
Logan grinned at his wife. “Every fire alarm in our house has now been tested…more than once.”
“I’m on a first-name basis, now, with Carol Anne from the alarm company. We’re becoming real besties,” Teagan joked. “Yep, she’s the one who told me about the cooking classes at the community college up in Jacksonville.” She took another bite of the cake. “Logan, I’m sorry, but I’m never going to be able to make anything that tastes this good.”
“Thank Christ you have other talents.” Logan shoved a large piece of cake into his mouth, grinning as he chewed.
Berit blushed. “I do have a confession.”
Teagan interrupted, “See, I knew it. You bought this cake in a bakery.”
“Sorry, Teagan, I actually made it, just not for this group.” Berit cringed at her revelation. “My son, Mak, is home this weekend.” She gave Micah a private smile. “Thank you very much, Captain Reid, but—”
“Call me Micah, please. We’re not formal at all around here.” He pointed with his fork at the crumbs on his plate. “But if I can convince you to bake desserts like this for me on a regular basis, you can call me anything you want.”
She ignored his comment and continued, “I baked it for my son and his friends. When I got home from work, I had a cryptic note that they were going out. I couldn’t let this beautiful cake go to waste. And Cap—, Micah,” she quickly caught herself and corrected, “I’ll be happy to make a dessert just for you the next time you’re in town.”
“Careful, Berit,” Elizabeth warned. “He might just take you up on that offer. Every time he’s in town he stays with us because he knows he’ll get a home-cooked meal. Now that Micah is moving to D.C., I guess I’m going to have to put in extra place setting at the table every night for supper.”
“I’m no dummy. Elizabeth is the best cook I’ve ever known,” Micah admitted.
“Are you telling us your mother was a horrible cook?” Berit’s question picked at an old scab.
“I didn’t have a mother. Growing up it was just me and my dad.” Micah shrugged. “He did the best he could in the kitchen, and during the summer he was a master at the grill.” He chuckled. “But growing up on Lake Erie, summer doesn’t last long.”
It had been a long time since he thought about his childhood, and he never talked about it, to anyone. As he looked around the gathering of friends, and Berit, he realized no one there cared one way or the other that he didn’t have a mother growing up. Like them, his childhood was far in the past. They knew him for the man that he was today. They accepted him, as he was. As their friend.
“Did he pass on any of that grilling savvy? Here in D.C., we grill out almost year-round.” Matthew grinned. “You’d better find a house with a deck, because we're coming your way for steaks and burgers. Paybacks are motherfuckers.”
“So, how’s the house-hunting coming along?” Teagan asked.
“I think Sandi has about six lined up for me tomorrow.” He looked at Matthew and wondered how serious he was about bringing the entire clan to his house for an occasional barbecue. Fuck. He’d been looking at two-bedroom condos. Should he be looking for a house?
Glancing around the Saint Clare’s home, he began to worry. He didn’t own that much furniture, or a lawnmower. And ninety percent of the time it would be just him. No. That was ridiculous. He’d continue to look at condominiums in a gated community. Maybe a townhouse. Working at the Pentagon, he doubted he’d be called to travel at a moment’s notice, and he certainly wouldn’t be gone any longer than a week or two at a time. Those days as a young lieutenant running his own small group of SEALs were long gone. He was a big picture officer now. He might have time for a home.
Nah. He hated mowing the lawn and somebody else could plant and care for the fucking flowers.
“I’m looking for something small, two-bedrooms probably.” Micah shrugged. “It’s just me. What the hell would I do with a place this big?” He threw up his hands gesturing to their house.
Elizabeth laughed as she rose. “I’ll be more than happy to send you Austin on a regular basis.” When she started collecting plates, Berit also stood.
“I’ll get these,” she offered.
“Mom, Liza’s bugging us. Make her stop. We’re trying to be good and read books in my room,” Austin yelled from the top of the stairs.
When Elizabeth headed their direction, Matthew grabbed his wife’s hand. “You’ve been on your feet most of the day. Sit down and relax. You take care of Wyatt and I’ll go deal with the other rugrats.” He placed his hand over her growing mound. “I can’t wait to see our next son tomorrow at the doctor’s appointment. I hate that I missed all this with the first one.” Elizabeth gave him a warning glance and sat down with a sigh, rubbing her growing belly.
“Both of mine are right there in the thick of things. I’m going up, too.” Logan stood and strode toward the stairs.
Berit gathered the last of the dishes and took them to Teagan who loaded the dishwasher. As soon as they were finished, Berit returned to the living room and picked up her messenger bag. Micah could see them sitting at the now empty dining room table, reviewing papers and chatting like old friends.
Logan trotted halfway down the steps and looked around. “Teagan, can you come up and help get the girls into bed? Anora wants her new mommy to tuck her in.”
“She calls you Mommy?” Berit asked with a warm smile. “That’s so sweet.”
“It’s also heartbreaking.” Teagan glanced toward the stairs. “She’s already starting to forget Marsha. We talked with the child psychologist about it, and she thought it was a good thing. I’ll be the only mother she knows. Anora still isn’t sure what to call me. Yesterday it was Mama Teagan. Brann took to calling Logan, Dad, the day the adoption petition was filed. I’m still Aunt Teagan to him.”
“No matter what they call you, you are their parents, now.” Berit gave her a hug. Stepping back, she gathered the papers from the table. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come over here tonight. I really appreciate you taking a few minutes out of your busy weekend schedule to see me. I can see myself out. You have little ones to attend to.”
“Thanks, Berit.” Teagan was on the third step when she turned. “Next time I’m in town, let’s just get together for a glass of wine.” She glanced at the top of the steps where the children seem to be having a shouting contest. “Somewhere quiet.”
“I’d like that.” Longing was written all over her face. “I wish we’d known each other when you lived here. I believe we would’ve been friends.”
Teagan flashed her smile. “So, we’ll just be friends now.”
“I like that idea.” Berit headed toward the closet at the front door. “Call me next time you’re in town.”
“I’ll do that,” Teagan replied from the top of the steps just before she disappeared around the corner.
Micah leaped from his chair. “Here, let me get your coat.” He had it off the hanger and was holding it out so she could easily slip into it. “Let me walk you to your car.” He wasn’t sure why he was offering, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
“There’s no need for both of us to get cold,” she chided. “This is probably one of the safest neighborhoods in the DC area.” With her hand on the doorknob, Berit stopped. Turning toward him, she asked, “When you were in Africa, did you have the chance to eat Ethiopian food?”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorites. Or maybe it’s just that I like to eat with my hands.” His joke felt awkward.
“There’s a great Ethiopian restaurant where I have to eat at least once a month to satisfy my urge for spicy food. I haven’t been there in a while.” She glanced away. When her gaze returned to him, she admitted, “I haven’t done this in a while either, so I’m not very good at it.” She held his gaze, and her breath. “Would you like to join me for Ethiopian food?” She spoke quickly on a whoosh of air. “Sometime?”
She was cute when she was uncertain. Micah doubted that happened very often. “Sometime, like Tuesday?” He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he went on to explain, “My real estate agent has appointments lined up for me over the next few days. My time this trip is tight.” He grinned. “But I’ll be living here by the first of the year.”
“Tuesday is perfect. That gives me the weekend to spend with my son, if he ever decides to stay home for ten minutes.” She glanced down at the buttons on his coat. “Thank you again for giving him, and his squad, the weekend off.”
Raising her head, she looked him straight in the eye. “These few days…thank you.” Her voice cracked as she blinked back tears that threatened to spill.
Micah doubted anyone, except her son, got to see this softer side of her. Something deep inside him wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, kissing her tears away. He wanted to reassure her that Mak would be okay, but he couldn’t lie to her. They both knew better. Petty Officer First Class Mark Schaefer, the SEAL they buried the previous day, was proof.
Berit took a deep breath, as though fortifying herself. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Let me have your phone.” Micah held out his hand.
“Why?” She snapped.
“I’ll program in my number, so you can text me the name of the restaurant,” he explained.
She rolled her eyes and dug into her pocket. “I told you, I wasn’t good at this.”
When she handed him her phone, he handed it back to her. “Berit, you’re going to need to unlock it.” He didn’t bother holding back his grin. She truly looked befuddled.
He couldn’t remember ever doing that to a woman before. Confusing them? Absolutely. Many of the base bunnies were dumb as a box of rocks. It was a good thing you didn’t have to talk to them to fuck them. Berit, on the other hand, was extremely intelligent. He was sure she could carry on conversations on a wide variety of subjects. But she was certainly out of practice flirting.
After swiping at the screen, she handed it back to him with the phone app open. “Just use my phone to call yours. I’ll make it a contact. And I’ll text you the name and address of the restaurant.” She was so uncomfortable with the situation it was almost comical.
Micah’s phone silently vibrated in his pocket. Extracting it, he stared at the number, instantly memorizing it. Yes. He would put it in his contacts, but it was solidly in his brain, already. “Here you go.” When she took the phone from him, he dragged his finger over the back of her hand. “I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday.”
“Yes.” She quickly opened the door and disappeared across the porch.
Micah grinned. It had been a long time since he had this kind of fun with a woman. He was looking forward to Tuesday.