Page 17 of Run

“David shoved me to the ground so he could take out three of Tommy’s men, who’d grabbed me in the police station parking garage after a corrupt constable handed me over.”

Five identically stunned faces stared at her, making her explain further: “He went all Ethan Hunt on them. Killed one guy with his own knife and shot the other two. Then we stole a car.”

Mouths opened and closed, but no words came out, so Elle carried on. “The dirty cop’s still alive, but I’m not sure my lawyer is. I don’t know if they conned her out of the room so they could get to me, or if she left for a totally legit reason, and the cop just took advantage of her being gone. I should probably call someone to check she’s okay.”

Still nothing from the team. She pointed at her leg. “And I scraped my knee.”

Joe cleared his throat. “I don’t know where to start unpacking that.”

With a grin, David took her hand. “Come on, Ellie Blue, you’re freaking everyone out. Let’s get you cleaned up before Callum arrives.” He gently steered her toward the door, calling over his shoulder as he went, “If somebody wants to make coffee, I wouldn’t say no.”

Behind her, Julia said, “Who’s Ethan Hunt?”

“Spy from theMission Impossiblemovies,” Megan replied. “Scarily skilled.”

“Oh, okay,” Julia said. “I’ll make coffee then.”

Elle heaved a sigh. There were days when she despaired of her teammates. “You know who Ethan Hunt is, right?”

“Yeah.” David’s bruises were getting worse, with a massive black eye blooming above the cut on his cheek. He pushed open the door to the ground floor bathroom. Finding it first try either by the use of X-ray vision or pure luck. “He takes down fake terrorists, using a combination of carefully designed stunts, imaginary tech, and special effects.”

“Whoa, touchy much.” She sat on the edge of the generic white bathtub while David searched under the sink for a first aid kit. Of course, there was one sitting there waiting for him.

He crouched in front of her and unzipped the kit. “Real spies don’t wear masks.”

“They do, you know.” Elle wanted to run her fingers through his chocolate brown hair. It was short on the sides, a little longer on top, and a tad too neat for her liking. “I watched a TED Talk by a woman who helped develop masks for the FBI. Or was it the CIA? All I can remember is she wore one during a meeting with one of the President Bushes, and he couldn’t tell her face wasn’t real.”

“That might have more to do with the President Bushes than the mask.”

“Whatever. I saw the photos, and the mask totally rocked. What do you think of James Bond?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Misogynist with a drinking problem.”

Elle couldn’t help but beam her approval. “You know, I think we might be made for each other.”

His gorgeous lips quirked as he held up a pair of scissors. “We have two options here. I can cut the leg of your jeans to get to the graze, or you can take them off. Which will it be?”

Had the temperature in the bathroom suddenly spiked? Could you have hot flushes in your twenties?

“I like these jeans,” she said.

“Then take them off.”

For a second, it felt like a lens had focused in on him. All she could see was his features in high definition.

“Did you know,” she said, “that the brown of your eyes is so dark it looks almost black?”

“I might have noticed that on occasion.” Those black eyes of his sparkled with amusement.

“Are they contacts, or is the color real?”

“Elle, stop stalling and take off your jeans.”

“I’m not stalling.”

“Your jeans are still on. Take them off or lose them.” David held up the scissors to make his point.

“Okey-dokey,” she said as she stood.