Page 22 of A Shot at Love

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Ky nodded. “Come on, then. Jon’s already thrown hints about dinner.”

He descended the stairs first, checking over his shoulder to make sure she was able to navigate without any problems.

“You’re not limping. Knee’s feeling better?”

She nodded. “It’s a little swollen, but no pain. By tomorrow I should be back up to speed.”

He reached the foyer first and stopped to wait for her.

“I don’t suppose I can go for a run, can I? I’m not usually inside all day long and I’m feeling pretty restless.”

She looked so beaten down he wished he could tell her she could, but it just wasn’t wise for her to be out where she’d be seen. It was much safer to keep her isolated and hidden.

“Don’t,” she said before he could speak. “The answer’s written all over your face.”

“Feeling better?” Jon called from the den. He closed his laptop and joined them.

“More like a lazy slob.”

Why couldn’t she smile at him the way she did at his partner? Where was the guarded expression she perpetually had for him, whenever she spoke to Jon? He’d give anything to know why she felt so mistrustful of him when he’d given her no reason to. At least none he could think of.

“I worked for a few hours and then I wasn’t able to keep my eyes open, so I crashed for a bit. I never realized sitting around all day is so exhausting.”

Jon laughed.

“Ky and I have been on enough stakeouts to know exactly how you feel,” Jon said. They walked into the kitchen and he pulled a chair for her to sit at the breakfast table.

“At least I got a ton of work done,” she said, accepting the bottled water Ky gave her from the refrigerator. “I was able to finalize some of the photos I’m using for the book.”

While Ky set about putting together the simple stew he’d planned for dinner, he had Jon assemble a salad for them to eat first. While the stew simmered, they sat and ate their first course.

“You mentioned going for a run,” Ky said while he watched Gemma attack the salad as if she hadn’t eaten for days.

“I usually get one in three or four times a week,” she said. “I missed yesterday’s and now today is all but over. Why do you ask? Can I?” Her eyes lit up as she looked across the table at him with such childlike expectation, that Ky momentarily forgot what he’d been about to say.

He gave himself a mental shake.

“Not outside, no. It’s not safe.” And just as quickly, her excitement disappeared. “But we’ve got a treadmill and workout set up in the basement. Free weights, mats. You’re welcome to use anything down there.”

“Really? Is that where you worked out this morning?”

Her cheeks instantly colored and Ky couldn’t for the life of him figure out why she’d be embarrassed at the question.

“I mean, I noticed when you came into the kitchen you were, you know…you looked like…maybe you’d been running. Or something. Working out. You were all…sweaty.”

She stopped and took a large gulp of water. Across the table Jon’s eyebrows rose as he turned his gaze from her blushing face to Ky’s.

Not understanding the cause of her awkwardness, Ky replied, simply, “Yes, it was. Do you think your knee is up to a run?”

“Maybe not a full one. But walking on a treadmill is better than doing nothing.”

“After dinner I’ll show you the setup,” he told her.

While he saw to their meal, Gemma asked them both, “Have you found out anything new? Who killed your agents? Or…anything else.”

“No,” Jon answered.

“Oh.”

The disappointment in her voice echoed throughout the kitchen.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me anything, anyway,” she said, “since I’m not a cop or involved in any official way.”

“It’s not that,” Ky said. “Believe me, you have a right to know what we find out. We both agree on that.” He nodded at Jon. “But your life is in danger now and our priority isn’t only finding the hit squad, but in keeping you safe as well.”

She laid her salad fork down on the table.