Page 59 of Run

“I need a hairbrush,” Megan said.

“I wouldn’t mind another T-shirt to sleep in,” Elle said. “I feel like I live in mourning clothes.” She looked down at all that black and shuddered, wishing she’d kept her Princess Leia nightshirt on for the prisoner exchange. Somehow, that hadn’t seemed appropriate at the time.

“I’d kill for some new underpants,” Megan chipped in.

“When did I turn into everybody’s personal shopper?” Ryan asked anyone who would listen.

“Don’t forget deodorant,” Elle added, then shrugged when the men looked askance at her. “It’s not like I packed for the hostage exchange.” She considered the idea. “I should have though. I’ve never thought about it before, but in the movies, they only ever exchange the people. Never their luggage. It would make more sense to supply them with a bag of essentials, don’t you think?”

Callum stared at Elle for a second before turning back to Ryan. “Add earplugs to the list.”

23

Dinner was pizza. Again. Ryan had returned armed with bags full of shopping. Toothbrushes and toothpaste for everyone, an assortment of deodorants, a multipack of women’s underpants, and two oversized T-shirts declaringI <3 London.He’d forgotten the hairbrush.

The T-shirts came in pink or lemon. Megan had taken one glance at them and declared she’d rather sleep naked. Which meant Elle got both, and she’d never been happier to have two big, cheap, ugly shirts.

As soon as the bathroom was free, Elle showered and dressed in a new pair of underpants and a T-shirt long enough to be a dress on her. Teeth brushed, hair in a messy bun, she climbed onto the bed farthest from the door, which someone had pushed flush against the wall to make more floor space between the beds. With a pillow on her lap and her new computer perched on top of it, she felt more herself than she had since this whole mess started. Really, she was as close to being in her happy place as possible. She was clean, she wasn’t wearing black, and she had internet access.

All was well with the world. And she’d work through all the heavy stuff her brother had revealed later. Maybe when people weren’t out to kill her. Right now, she wanted to hold the knowledge that she had her brother back close to her and just let it sit for a while.

“Elle,” Callum barked at her, as he was wont to do.

She tore her attention from setting up her new laptop to find him pointing into the bathroom.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded.

It took her a second to figure out what he meant. “It’s a bra, Callum. I’m pretty sure Isobel wears them too.” Especially seeing as she’d gone lingerie shopping with Isobel on numerous occasions.

His face turning luminous red, he blustered. “This is a mission. On this mission, there are no men and no women. That means you don’t hang your bloody underwear from the shower rail. Does this look like a college dorm room?”

“I don’t mind if you move it out the way.” Elle honestly couldn’t see what the big deal was.

“I willnottouch your unmentionables,” he told her, still pointing at the bathroom.

“Did he just say unmentionables?” Abasi asked from where he was lounging on the bed nearest the door, scrolling on his phone—but only after Elle had made sure he’d disabled the GPS.

“Callum hasn’t quite made it to the twenty-first century yet.” She considered her boss. “Or possibly the twentieth.”

David sauntered past Callum from the direction of the bathroom, Elle’s lacy underwear in his hand. “The bathroom has been secured, sir,” he reported to Callum.

“Why do I bother?” Callum muttered as he stalked into the bathroom.

Meanwhile, David held up her lilac-colored and very lacy bra, along with its matching French-cut boy shorts.

“Cute.” He flashed the smile that usually made her brain melt.

Usuallybeing the operative word.

Now that she knew he’d never admit to there being anything more between them than rampant hormones and teasing, she was immune to him. He smiled wider, but she stood firm against his charms. If he wanted to be an idiot and pass up on all that was her, so be it. She’d moved on with her life. His thick lashes lowered, and a butterfly tried to take off in her stomach. She squashed that bug dead. He’d been only a passing fascination. His eyes smoldered at her. Unable to stop herself, she licked her lips. No! Firm.

Elle made a show of wiping the back of her hand over her mouth.No entry here, buster.Now, where was she? Yes! Puzzle. He was nothing more than a puzzle. He turned, grabbed a hanger for her lingerie, dropped her bra and bent to pick it up…

Holy Backside, Batman.

What was she saying, again?

He hung her underwear in the open cubby that passed for a wardrobe. For some reason, seeing his hands on her lace made her mind go blank. He had such strong hands—lean and elegant, and…he was doing it to her again!