Free Gunning for the Groom by Debra Webb Page A

adjusted the rate through the weekend.” She programmed two key cards and tucked them into a small envelope, pushing it across the counter. With a map of the hotel, she pointed out their room and the basic amenities. “You’ll be right here with an excellent view of the city,” she said, circling what appeared to be a corner room. “Park wherever you like. The closest elevators are down the first corridor on your left.” She pointed. “Do you need help with your luggage?”
    â€œI’ll manage,” Aidan said. He wanted some privacy, and fast. He didn’t want Frankie second-guessing or throwing him another curveball.
    They made it up to the suite in one trip even with the flowers. Frankie walked inside and stopped short in the center of the room. “Holy cow. That view. We should get engaged more often.”
    The “we” gave him pause, though she was right to be thinking in teamwork terms. He blamed the strange twitch between his shoulder blades on the residual effect of sliding that ring onto her finger. Stepping up beside her, he enjoyed the floor-to-ceiling corner window that gave them a panoramic view of Seattle’s west side. “You have a beautiful hometown.”
    â€œThat’s overstating it.”
    Her reflexive disagreement made him feel better somehow. “Did you ever live in a place that felt like a hometown?”
    She turned away from the windows to set the vase of wrapped flowers on the tall dresser next to the television. “We moved a lot, obviously. Wherever we lived, there were certain items that went in specific places. Little things like the key rack near the door, a family portrait in the dining room. My mom’s theory was those details made the transitions easier.”
    He followed as she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom. “Did it work?”
    She looked over her shoulder, a mix of nostalgia and sorrow clouding her eyes. “Yes.”
    Should he point out the mixed messages she gave him about her mother? It was as if she described two different women: one a devoted wife and mother, possibly a hopeless romantic, and the other a sharp mind capable of wreaking havoc on the world at large.
    A fresh awareness, and a desperate ache to fix everything for Frankie, filled him. Had he learned nothing from his mistakes? He was an investigator, end of story. He had to remember that, had to keep his focus on the facts, for her safety and his.
    He backed toward the door. “I’m going to check on the leads I was working on those passports.”
    â€œFine,” she said, not looking at him. “I’ll, um, work out a few things in here.”
    â€œIs an hour enough time?”
    The only sign of tension was the little catch in her breathing. “That works for me.”

Chapter Six
    Frankie let Aidan drive to her mother’s new house in Queen Anne while she held the flowers. Periodically she stretched her hands to relieve the tension that mounted with every passing block. After some restorative yoga in the hotel room, she felt better, stronger and ready to calmly face whatever came next. Though it hadn’t done any good last time, a tiny part of her still wanted to charge in and blast her mother with an all-out attack.
    Unfortunately, unless she used the condemning statement Sophia had signed, Frankie didn’t have anything else confirmed enough to ask about. Aidan hadn’t turned up any concrete information on the passports. The best he could tell, they’d never been used, despite the stamps inside. So why had they been in the safe-deposit box? Frankie reminded herself things were moving forward, intelligently if not quickly. For the first time since getting kicked out of the navy, she didn’t feel alone.
    She slid a glance at her undercover groom as they neared her mother’s home, wondering what kind of reception to expect. Would it be stilted and weird or warm and happy? Her last