“Really?”
Jas nodded as she sipped from her glass. “His name’s Damien, and he has a parish in the Pointes. He and Daddy didn’t get along initially. Daddy’s not big on organized religion, but after the first grandson and the four boys that followed, Daddy thinks Damien walks on water.”
“I hear grandkids can have that effect. Neither of my brothers are married. Mom says she’s okay with it, but we all know she wants grandkids. Do you want kids?”
“When I was younger, but too old biologically now, though, I think. I may adopt. Lots of kids could use a home and all the love my family and I have to give. How about you? Kids?”
He shrugged. “I’ve thought about adoption too. I enjoy kids. Single guys can now adopt, so I plan to look into it at some point. My family and I also have a lot to give.”
Jas liked hearing that. Showed he had a heart beneath all that fineness.
“How long have you been licensed to carry?”
She’d seen him startled by her dad’s reference to her weapon and had wondered how long it would take him to bring it up. “Since I was eighteen. Knowing weapons is a requirement in my family.” She told him about the gun classes and the visits to the range. “I still go to the range at least once a month. Mama fusses if she finds out we’re slacking on that.”
“I was surprised when your dad asked if you were strapped.”
“I noticed, but a lot of women in the city carry. Nature of the beast, I suppose.”
“Your many facets make you a very interesting lady.”
“Good to know. You don’t impress me as a man who does boring women.”
“Correct. The more interesting, the better.”
“Then I’ll try and keep you on your toes.”
“Do that,” he replied softly. And what she saw in his gaze made her want to be the most interesting woman he’d ever met just so he’d keep looking at her that way.
“We should probably get to work,” he said.
“Agreed.” It was obvious neither of them really wanted to, but if they didn’t, the attraction glowing like embers between them would flare into full flames, and the only work accomplished would have nothing to do with finding Elliot Vernon. “Can I set up right here?”
“Yes. I need to be in my office, though. I use a desktop for work.”
“I’ll be fine out here.” And less distracted by you, she thought to herself. She pulled her laptop out of her tote and set it on the glass top of the coffee table in front of her.
He gave her the house’s Wi-Fi password and stood. “I’ll check on you in an hour or so.”
“Hopefully by then, I’ll find something that’ll be helpful.”
“Sounds good.” He checked the time on his watch. “It’s four now. See you at five. Happy hunting.”
“You too.”
Torr booted up his computer, and once it was ready, he began. His first stop was Interpol to see if they had anything on the man now calling himself Charles Taylor. Torr knew the name also belonged to the former Liberian warlord and politician currently incarcerated in Europe. Nothing showed up under either name in Interpol’s public files, so Torr used his credentials to access the hidden areas of the site and found Gabriel there. He was currently wanted in Nigeria for war crimes, smuggling, and crimes against humanity. According to his profile, Gabriel was also an alias. His true name was unknown, but it was his face in the grainy picture. Torr now had a bit more info on his adversary, but how Vernon fit into the picture remained a mystery. He spent a few minutes researching the stolen objects tied to Timbuktu and read an article on the librarians and others who’d risked their lives to keep the books and other valuable items out of the marauding rebels’ hands back in 2013. It was a harrowing account, and he imagined Jasmine would’ve fit right in with the fight to keep the treasures safe.
His thoughts wandered to her, and he wondered how a man like him could impress the fascinating Jasmine Ware. She clearly didn’t suffer fools, not that he considered himself to be one, but she seemed content with her life. Did she want to fit a man into it? He knew how content he was with his own life as a single guy, and it would take an incredibly special woman to make him open to changing his status. He knew more about her than he had earlier in the week, but still next to nothing. Nevertheless, she drew him in in an immensely powerful way, and he was looking forward to the journey of learning more, because he wanted to do better with her than he had with his ex-wife, Mari.
They’d married just as he was beginning his career with the Legion. He’d loved her, but his feelings for her hadn’t been enough to wean him from the thrills of the job. After the wedding, instead of settling in and growing their family, he kept signing up for missions that took him away from home eight to nine months out of the year. When she told him how unhappy she was having to hold their relationship together alone while also worrying about his safety, he’d listened and reassured her of his love, but made no changes. In the end, he’d left her little choice but to file for divorce, and he’d understood why. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. There were times he wished he’d been more understanding and attuned to her needs, but his youth and the hubris tied to playing a cocky, world-traveling soldier of fortune had meant more. She was currently married to a good man who treated her with the tenderness and attention she deserved, and Torr was genuinely happy for her. He, on the other hand, was the lone wolf. Not that he minded how everything had turned out, because he now had a fascinating woman in his life named Jasmine Ware. Wolves were supposed to mate for life, and given this second chance, that was his goal.
Realizing he had no business musing on marrying Jasmine at this point in their relationship, he set the thoughts of it and her aside and refocused on his screen.
At 5:00 p.m., he stood and stretched. He’d learned a lot in the last hour. He left his office and walked back to the front of the house to see what Jasmine had discovered.
She was seated outside on the covered back porch, watching one of the big freighters slowly making its way upstream. Detroit’s river was used by vessels of all sizes and was one of the busiest international waterways in the world. When he stepped out to join her, she turned and gave him a smile.
“How you doing?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room I could rent, would you? I could sit here and watch the water for the rest of my life. What do you think that freighter is carrying?”
He walked closer and rested his hands on the back of the bench, once again drawn to and tempted by her bare shoulders bisected by the straps on the flowing bronze sundress. “I don’t know, but I have a book around here somewhere on freighters that lists the names and countries of origin. I’ll find it for you. As for the room, just say the word. I’m sure we could work something out.”
She turned back to look up at him, offering another smile. “You can come sit. This is your porch and bench, after all.”
“I didn’t want to crowd you.”
“Crowding allowed.”
He sat and draped his arm behind her along the edge. “How about this?” He loved the nearness of her.
She scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. “How about this?”