Boone got the laptop set up just as Gemma strode back into the living area. He’d found her a pair of his shorts, and she’d folded the waistband over a few times.
His gaze dropped to her legs, then he looked away. He saw Atlas staring at him with an accusing look.
Damn judgmental dog.
Gemma sat down beside him. She looked much better after her shower. Her damp hair was in a braid, tied with a rubber band he’d found for her.
“Vander’s company has done work for my father before.” She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “My dad says Vander is one man he’d never cross.”
“We’ll sort this out.”
“Boone…” She pressed a hand to his knee. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Anyone would.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
He frowned at her, sensing more to her words, but the laptop screen flickered, and Vander Norcross appeared.
Boone’s old commander was Italian-American, with dark hair, a serious face, and blue eyes so dark they looked black. He emitted that vibe that warned you not to mess with him. He had since the first day Boone had met him in Ghost Ops training.
“Boone,” Vander said.
“Vander.” The other man was used to being in charge, and he was damn good at it. Vander was a man who took action and got things done. A man who wasn’t intimidated by anything.
Then Vander’s dark gaze switched to Gemma. His expression didn’t change, but Boone got the impression he was surprised. Although he’d never seen Vander surprised before.
“Gemma?”
She nodded. “Hi, Vander.”
Frowning, Boone’s old boss looked back at him. “Boone, why is Gemma Newhouse with you?”
“Because I fished her out of the river.”
She made a sound and grabbed Boone’s hand. “I was abducted.”
Now Vander’s face sharpened. He looked like a predator sensing blood in the water. “Tell me.”
Gemma recounted her story, Boone filling in some of the gaps.
Vander sat back in his chair. “Gemma, I don’t think your parents know. There hasn’t been a whisper about this.”
“They don’t. No one knows this, but my parents are doing a submarine trip to the Mariana Trench. They’ve been out of contact. It was top secret. You know how the shareholders get when Dad does anything the slightest bit risky.”
Vander’s frown deepened. “As far as we can tell, no one has reached out to your parents’ people with a ransom demand.”
“So, why did these men take me?” Her voice held the slightest wobble.
“Let me do some digging. Quietly.” His dark gaze moved back to Boone. “You got this?”
Boone nodded. “Yes.”
“Whoever took her is likely looking for her.”
“I’ve got this.”
Vander nodded. “I’ll be in touch soon. Gemma, Boone is a good man. He’s a hell of a soldier and you’re in good hands. Boone, you keep her safe.”
Boone closed the laptop. “You hungry? I’ll make some breakfast.”
She smiled. “I’m actually starving.”
He froze. It was a beautiful smile that lit up her entire face.
“I’d sell my soul for a cup of coffee.”
Boone shot to his feet. “Coffee and breakfast coming up.”
And it was best if he put a little space between them.
Of course, she followed him into the kitchen.
His kitchen wasn’t fancy, but it had always been enough for him. Right now, he wished he had some more kitchen…stuff. He put the coffee machine on.
“I’m not as good in the kitchen as you.”
She hoisted herself up onto the scarred butcher-block counter. “I’m still learning. I mean, I’ve done some cooking courses.” Her nose wrinkled. “Mom and Dad would have preferred that I used my degree, worked at Expanse, and had a stellar tech career. Or they would’ve been happy with a medical career, as well. My mom’s a doctor.”
Boone put some bacon in the frypan, then broke some eggs into a bowl and started mixing them. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with scrambled eggs. “What’s your degree?”
She pulled a face. “Computer science. I went to Stanford. It was during my ‘try and please my parents’ phase. I was good at it, but I never loved it. I’m pretty sure I was the only one in my coding class imagining making cupcakes.”
“You like to bake. You’re good at it.”
Faint color filled her cheeks. “I don’t hear that very often. Did Atlas tell you that?”
“Maybe I caught a bit of Cake and Bake while Atlas was watching.”
That got him a smile, but then it dissolved. “Since Cake and Bake wrapped, I’ve just been working part time at a local bakery in LA.” Her face lit up again. “The old Italian lady who runs it is an amazing baker. I’ve learned so much. And the rest of the time…”
Boone raised a brow. “The rest of the time?”
The pink in her cheeks darkened. “Um, I help out at a charity called Angel Cakes. We bake birthday cakes for kids in need. Kids who are sick, in foster homes, or kids from disadvantaged backgrounds where their parents might not be able to afford a cake.”
The daughter of the richest man in America baked cakes for disadvantaged kids. She was absolutely nothing like he’d imagined her to be. He thought of the birthdays where he’d had no cake. His uncle had always taken him out for dinner and given him some money. But after he’d lost his parents, birthday cakes had been a thing of the past.
“That’s really special, Gemma.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I haven’t even told my parents about Angel Cakes. My dad thinks all my baking is a waste of time. Mom thinks I’ll grow out of this phase.” She made air quotes as she said the word. “That I’m wasting my life on something so frivolous.”
“Good food is not frivolous. As someone who’s been forced to eat MREs in the field too many times to count, I really like good food. And I’ve learned that life’s too short to do crap you don’t want to do.”
He thought of the friends he’d lost. The men who’d never see their kids grow up. Never live the life they’d imagined after the military. His throat tightened.
Gemma looked at the floor. “I wish my parents felt the same. They’re always working, pushing for more.” She sighed. “They think I’m wasting my potential.”
“Is that why you went on Cake and Bake? To prove them wrong?”
“Maybe. To show that I had skills. That baking is a beautiful thing that can brighten someone’s day, and that it matters.” She sighed. “Not very useful when you’ve been abducted, though.”
He tipped her chin up. “No one is getting their hands on you again.”
More color filled her cheeks. “This is a lot of trouble for you—”
“No.” He served up the eggs and bacon, then grabbed the toast that popped out of the toaster. He’d fight for her. It was who he was. A part of him hated seeing this nice, innocent woman upset, afraid, and anxious.
He set the food on his small table. He usually ate there alone. “For now, let’s eat.”
She nodded and hopped down. Atlas turned up, begging for snacks with his big brown eyes.
“Can I feed him?”
“Sure, but you’ll never get rid of him ever again.”