Page 86 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

She turned the pad toward him. On the page was a picture of the two of them in the panic room on the day they’d met. Annabelle huddled in the corner, her hands covering her ears, while Noah stood behind a barrier, gun aimed at the wall in front of him. Bullets flew all around them, destroying everything in the room.

“It’s amazing,” he said. “But I thought you didn’t remember much about that day?”

“It comes back to me in psychedelic flashes. I see everything through a cough-syrup haze.”

“Pretty accurate for a hazy memory.”

“Well, I have you to thank for that. Mainly, I’ve relied on what you’ve told me.”

Noah rested his hand on her knee. “Why are you drawing this? Please tell me it isn’t part of the boys’ next lesson because, as far as they’re concerned, their father shoots with a water pistol.”

She grinned, as he’d known she would. “Nope, it’s for my doctor. She suggested drawing my anxieties or the memories to get them out of my head. She thinks it might help me process things.”

“And is it helping?”

Annabelle shrugged. “I’m calmer, but I think that’s mainly because I just love drawing.”

Unable to resist, Noah reached out to sweep her hair away from her face. It ran through his fingers like silk. “Can I get you anything?” he asked a little gruffly.

“No, thanks, I’m good.” Her smile was intimate, just for him.

“We’ve barely had a minute alone since… last night.”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You mean when I fell asleep waiting for you?”

“I’m sorry about that. Talking to Rodrigo took longer than I expected. When I got back upstairs, you were out cold.”

She reached down to link her fingers through his, and in that moment, it seemed as if everyone else in the room disappeared. “You know, you could have just crawled into bed beside me instead of sleeping in the guest room.”

“You needed your sleep.” He caressed the inside of her wrist with his thumb and watched as she wet her lips.

“I could have slept with you beside me,” she said softly, her eyes darkening.

“I’m not sure I could have, not after that kiss.” Blood pooled low in his body at the memory.

“That kiss seems like such a long time ago,” she whispered. “I can barely remember it.”

He shifted uncomfortably as his jeans became tighter. “I could refresh your memory.”

Annabelle bit her bottom lip, gazing at him through thick, dark lashes. Her eyes flickered to the room behind him before she gave him a tiny smile. “Perhaps when we don’t have an audience.”

At her words, the room rushed back into focus, and once again, he could hear the low chatter of his teammates and the hum of computers.

“No,” he said wryly. “This isn’t the best location.”

“Noah?” Rochelle called. “Can you take a look at this? I think we may have hit the jackpot.”

Reluctantly, he released Annabelle’s hand and straightened. Turning his back on her proved much more difficult than it should have.

“What is it?” he asked as he approached Evan’s control center.

Rodrigo and Abasi smiled knowingly at him and cast pointed looks Annabelle’s way. He frowned at them. They were both worse than the triplets.

“This.” Rochelle indicated the screen, which was filled with financial transactions. “It appears to be some kind of trust account.”

“Like lawyers set up to hold money until a deal goes through?”

She nodded. “Exactly.”