Code Name - Hacker (Jameson Force Security 4)

Bebe just stares in shock a moment before setting her coffee on the bedside table. She uncurls from the bed, then walks to me with a sense of wonderment. I hold still as she approaches, and her eyes roam all over my face.

When she’s toe to toe with me, her hands come to my cheeks and she smooths her thumbs over the freshly shaven skin.

“I barely recognize you,” she murmurs. “Is this how you normally wear your hair?”

I nod. I was never much for anything other than a short buzz cut all the same length. I had a girlfriend once tell me my cheekbones demanded I not let a hairstyle interfere with my face.

“These cheekbones,” Bebe murmurs, grazing her fingertips over them.

I snort with laughter.

“What?” she asks, giggling but not once meeting my eyes. She’s still taking in every detail of my face that’s been hidden under a beard.

“Not the first time I’ve heard the cheekbone thing,” I admit.

Finally, her gaze meets mine, her expression somberly earnest. “I like it. I really do.”

“Not going to miss biker dude Griff?” I tease.

“Well, you still have the tattoos,” she points out. “So there’s that.”

“Yes, the tattoos are definitely mine and staying.”

“You were hot before,” she says, hands now lacing behind my neck. “In that badass, sinister kind of way. But now you’re just… pretty. Like really, really pretty.”

“Nothing emasculating about that,” I mutter drily.

She laughs, shaking her head. “No, I just mean… you could be a model or something if this FBI thing doesn’t pan out.”

I can feel my smooth cheeks heating up from her overt ogling, something that is both weird and pleasing. I mean… I knew Bebe was attracted to me. That much was obvious, but her compliments are so deeply genuine I’m a bit embarrassed.

“You should have woken me up,” she chides. “I could have gone with you to meet Ken.”

“You should have slept better last night,” I counter.

She snorts. “I know damn well you didn’t sleep either because I was so busy being restless.”

“Your presence wasn’t needed,” I say, my hands going to her waist. “But are you feeling well rested now?”

“I’m feeling human,” she admits.

“Good,” I reply, walking her backward to the bed. “Because we have all day to kill, and I’m going to suggest we spend it in bed. Sound good?”

Her smile takes my breath away, and she nods with bright eyes. “Sounds very good.”CHAPTER 23Bebe“In the movies, I’d be in the back of the van with a really cool equipment setup,” I mutter as I work on the laptop propped on my lap.

Griff laughs, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “In some scenarios, we do get the fancy van. This isn’t one.”

No, I suppose it’s not needed. Everything I need to do can be done on my laptop. I could have done it in the cafe across the street actually, but we felt being mobile was the better plan in case the signal was weak and we needed to move closer. Ken is situated at said cafe, having texted us to let us know he’s at the meal counter at the window and has us in his sights. It doesn’t necessarily make me feel better he’s there, mainly because I don’t think we’re in danger.

I don’t see how Bogachev could be on to us, and it’s not like he’s going to stumble across us here. Even if he did—worst-case scenario—come strolling down the block, we’re not recognizable. Not only is Griff clean-shaven, but he’s wearing a hat and glasses. Same for me, with my long dark hair tucked under a cap.

We’re good. I’m sure of it.

It takes me a few minutes to deploy software to help me lock onto the signal from the USB in Bogachev’s apartment. While it sends its little feelers out, I twist slightly in the passenger seat to face Griff.

He’s watching the bustling streets of Brooklyn, eyes carefully roaming across the landscape.

“Hey,” I say softly, and it’s all that’s needed.

His gaze comes to me, eyebrows slightly raised and mouth curved in welcome of whatever I intend to say. I love that about this man. He’s interested—in a profound way—in anything I have to say to him.

“This is it.” I reach across, holding my hand out—palm out. He takes it, and we lace fingers. “Not long now, and it’s all going to be over with.”

“We make a hell of a team,” Griff replies.

“Indeed we do.” I take him in. Really looking hard at this man who has come to intimately know me both body and soul over the last few weeks, and I’ve never felt closer to anyone except my son. In my heart, I know Griff is my everything. While this may be the end of a particular saga in our lives, it’s not the end of us. “I need to tell you something, and I’m nervous to do it.”