So many decisions to make, not to mention the training we should be doing. Yet I’ve been dragging my feet these last few days, too stuck on our near defeat in New Mexico to focus on making a plan. Maybe it’s the comfort of Nine’s penthouse after a near-death experience, not to mention years on the run for all of us, but it seems like the entire group needs a breather. If any of them have been beating themselves up over not having a proper plan, they haven’t shown it.

Oh, and there’s something else distracting me too. I guess it’s sort of like Marina wanting to try out all the appliances in Nine’s fancy kitchen; I want to spend some time just being with Sarah. I wonder what Henri would think of that. He’d be disappointed in my lack of focus, I know that, but I can’t help myself.

As if on cue, Sarah wraps her arms around my waist from behind, nuzzling her face into the back of my neck. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even hear her pad into the kitchen.

“Good morning, handsome,” Sarah says. I turn around and give her a slow, sweet kiss.

Stressed out as I’ve been, I’m sort of getting used to mornings like this. Mornings where I get to wake up and kiss Sarah, then have a normal day with her, and go to bed knowing she’ll be there when I wake up.

Sarah puts her face close to mine, whispering. “You were up early again.”

I grimace; I thought I’d been quiet sneaking out of bed in the morning to go think things through on the roof.

“Is everything all right?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, of course,” I say, trying to distract her with another kiss. “You’re here. How could it not be?”

Marina clears her throat, probably worried we’re going to start making out right in the kitchen. Sarah winks at me and turns away, plucking Marina’s floating whisk out of the air and taking over on the eggs.

“Oh,” Sarah says, looking back at me. “Nine’s looking for you.”

“Great,” I reply. “What’s he want?”

Sarah shrugs. “I didn’t ask. Maybe he wants to share some fashion tips.” She touches a finger to her lips thoughtfully, studying me. “Actually, that probably wouldn’t be so bad.”

“What do you mean?”

Sarah winks at me. “He lost his shirt. Again.”

I groan, heading out of the kitchen to go find Nine. I realize the penthouse is his home and he has a right to make himself comfortable, but he’s been strutting around shirtless almost every opportunity he gets. I’m not sure if he expects the girls to suddenly start fawning over him, or if he’s just doing the whole gun-show thing to annoy me. Probably both.