We took a few minutes to clean up, then went down to brunch well-rested and in a glowing mood. In fact, if it weren’t for Agent Tang lurking around the property somewhere, this would have been the most perfect and romantic weekend I’d ever spent. Thankfully, we hadn’t seen much of Agent Tang.
Just being with Charles here was amazingly restful. It helped that Brindle Cove seemed to exist without worrying about finding another story to write, or staying safe, or trying to ditch our guard. Here we could just be.
Gwen greeted us in the kitchen, the last of pancakes and bacon cooking. “Good morning, you two. How did you sleep last night?”
“Like a baby,” I said.
“Yeah,” Charles teased. “A big baby who kept stealing the covers.”
He grabbed a piece of bacon off the platter. His mother swatted
