As he climbed the stairs from the basement, he rolled his shoulder, testing the wound. It had been months since he left the hospital, and it still wasn’t healed to his satisfaction. He had residual soreness when he worked out, but if he went more than a day without pushing the exercises, it got stiff.
He was still rotating his arm when he got into the living room. Sophie looked up from the stove and frowned. “Is your shoulder still bothering you?”
Not waiting for his answer, she hurried around the corner—as fast as a woman in her condition could—and stood in front of him. Her belly protruded, nearly bumping into his hip. She looked about thirteen months’ pregnant—not that he’d tell her that.
“I’m fine, Soph,” he said good-naturedly.
“You’ve been working out again. Should you be pushing yourself so hard?”
He rolled his eyes and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’m fine. It’s never going to get to one hundred percent unless I strengthen it.”
Her blue eyes clouded and she briefly looked away. He sighed. She was the reason he’d taken the bullet, and she was also the only one determined not to forget that fact. He tugged at her hair just to annoy her, and when she looked back at him, he scowled.
Her sadness lasted all of two seconds. Her shoulders started shaking and her lips split into a wide smile. “Okay, okay,” she said, putting her hands up as she backed away. “I’ll stop the guilt and the mother hen act.”
“Yeah, save it for the kiddo.”
She walked back into the kitchen and he followed, sniffing the air.
“What are you cooking? It smells good.”
“I think the question is, what am I not cooking.” She gestured at the table, which had food scattered over the entire surface. It looked like a mad chef had butchered a cow and an entire garden. “I’m making lasagna to freeze, chicken and dumplings, a few casseroles and a gumbo. You hungry?”
He rubbed his stomach. “I could eat.”
She checked her watch. “Lunch will be on the table in an hour.”
“You’re going to make me wait an hour?” he asked in horror.
She raised an eyebrow. “If I let you eat then Donovan and Sam would want to eat and then there’d be no one to have lunch with when it’s time.”
“You’re a cruel, cruel woman,” Garrett complained. “I don’t know why Sam puts up with you.”
Her look said she wasn’t impressed with his whining.
“Speaking of Sam, where is he?”
Sophie peered over the pot and sniffed. “He went over to the office with Donovan. They had some calls to make. Sam said the contractors were supposed to break ground on the helipad at the compound today.”
Garrett shook his head at her insistence on calling it the “office.” “I’m headed over to the war room now. What are we having for lunch? Do I get to pick since I’m injured?”
“Oh now you want to be all pitiful,” she muttered. “I suppose. What would you like?”
He grinned. “I’ll take chicken and dumplings. Good comfort food for someone in my condition.”
He turned to go but swiped a bite of the chicken she’d deboned and left in a flurry of threats to kick his ass.
Chuckling, he crossed the driveway to the building on the lot adjacent to the house. It had a stark look, completely in contrast to the homey log cabin that he and his brothers lived in, nestled on the banks of Kentucky Lake. It was square and imposing looking with grey cement-steel reinforced walls, no windows and a security system—thanks to Donovan’s technical expertise—the CIA couldn’t get into. Which was funny, considering the CIA would be arriving any moment now.
He punched in the access code and entered when the door slid open. Donovan was sitting in front of Hoss, the computer—the love of his life—and Sam was standing behind Donovan, reading off the screen.
He’d actually miss this place when construction was complete on the KGI compound he and his brothers had designed. They all liked to give Sam shit about his paranoia, but the truth was Garrett thought it was a damn good idea. He wanted his family protected. Especially after all that had happened in the months before, when his mom had been abducted.
If moving KGI to a secure, state-of-the-art facility would ensure that all the Kellys would be better protected, then Garrett was ready to make the move yesterday. The problem was, such a massive undertaking was going to take time. It would be months before everything would be complete.
“So what’s up Resnick’s ass?” he asked as he ambled over to his brothers.
Sam turned. “Dunno. He called, said he was about twenty minutes out. He sounded agitated.”
“When doesn’t he sound agitated? He’s an uptight son of a bitch.”
Donovan turned in his chair, looked at Sam and then both burst into laughter.
“What?” Garrett demanded.
Sam shook his head. “Hello, pot. Calling kettle uptight?”
Garrett flipped up his middle finger as he turned away and plopped onto the couch. Whatever Resnick wanted, it couldn’t be good. The last time they’d seen him in person was when all the shit went down with Sophie. He’d been quiet since. Just the way Garrett liked him. Trouble always followed in Resnick’s wake.
Sam followed and slouched on the other end of the couch. “Mom is having a party for Rusty, and she’s made it clear the entire family is to attend.”