“We wait for instructions.” He flips a switch on a brown box with black knobs and white speakers sitting on a small table. The room fills with buzzing static before he turns the volume down. “Abignail will send us a Morse code message using radio waves. We’ll be able to hear them on this frequency.”

“How long will that take?”

“Don’t know. Hopefully we hear in a few hours. We have to get the algorithm into the right hands before Simon launches his Quinn update.” He props open a window.

The night breeze is welcome after our run, but the room quickly cools. “What do we do until then?” I ask. The kiss instantly flashes through my mind, and a glance at him tells me he’s thinking the same. “Never mind.” I grimace, rubbing my arms. “Don’t answer that.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why? Is the prospect of spending a few hours alone with me giving you chills?”

“It’s the wind. Definitely the wind.”

He laughs.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask.

“Nope. I still have too much adrenaline, but this should help warm you up.” Kneeling next to the fireplace, he turns a dial, and the logs light up, blasting me with heat. “Do you want to see if there’s any food in this place? I’m starving.”

My stomach growls, and I realize it’s been hours since we’ve eaten. I drag myself to my feet and head to the kitchen.

Opening drawers and cupboards, I hunt for food. Garrett joins me and puts a pot on the stove, heating water from a jug left on the counter.

I squeal with delight when I find an unopened bag of Goldfish crackers.

“Jackpot,” I say, waving the bag at him before returning to the couch.

He follows with a dishcloth and a bowl of hot, soapy water. “Before you get too comfortable, let me look at that cheek.” Sinking down next to me, he lifts my chin and dabs at the cuts. “Luckily, there isn’t any glass imbedded in here. That was quick thinking, Ellie. I’m impressed.”

The only light comes from the full moon filtering in through the windows and the red glow of the fireplace, but his face is so close to mine I can see a tiny scar under his right eyebrow. My pulse throbs in my throat. “Why do you call me Ellie?”

“Because you’re not Ella and you’re not Elisha. You’re someone in between. Someone I’d like to know.” Without meeting my eyes, he keeps dabbing.

Butterflies flap to life in my belly. The heat from the fireplace sweeping over me, my muscles relax. My defenses fall away as he tugs me under his spell. Fearing a closet reenactment, I change the subject. “So, I was your mission and you were too busy hooking up with Faye to meet me on time?”