“Listen, I…uh…am I allowed to keep asking questions?”
Malin covered her smile and did her best not to laugh. Dutch Miller was one of the toughest men she knew, and here he was, walking on eggshells for her.
“Why don’t I start at the beginning?”
“Before you begin, can I get something else to eat?”
As hard as she tried, Malin couldn’t contain her laugh. “Of course.”
“You think it’s funny, but I’m literally starving over here. Aren’t you hungry?”
She kept laughing. “You made me breakfast.”
“How can you exist on an egg-white omelet and toast? I was hungrier after we finished eating than before.”
“I get it, Dutch,” she said, squeezing his shoulder and walking into the kitchen. “Is there any of Sofia’s food left?”
“I think that’s why I’m so hungry. I don’t think I’ve eaten a quarter of it.”
“You need to keep your strength up.”
Dutch looked up from his computer and smiled. “I do?”
Malin laughed again.
“What?”
She walked around the kitchen’s island and stood in front of him. “Sometimes you’re like a little boy.”
He put his hand on her nape. “And sometimes I’m not.” He leaned forward and kissed her. When his tongue pushed through her lips, Malin put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, harder.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, looking up at the ceiling.
“What?” she asked with wide eyes.
“I’m so hungry, and yet I want you so bad.”
“Let’s eat first.”
“But then we need to talk too.”
“Are you whining?”
Dutch stuck his lower lip out. “I am so whining.”
—:—
When Malin went back around the island to continue heating up food, Dutch’s phone pinged. He didn’t want to look, but he knew he had to.
Malin Kilbourne is on the agency’s alert list, said the text from Doc.
“Fuck,” Dutch muttered, wishing it had taken them a few more days to get to this point.
When he looked up, Malin was studying him.
“They’re actively looking for you.”
She nodded. “What do you know about Ghafor’s whereabouts?”