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“You don’t have to just look at it. You can eat it.”

Octavia grabbed a slice of bread. “I haven’t had bread for months. The stuff in the stores goes off too quickly.” She sniffed the bread and closed her eyes, inhaling the floury scent.

“You have Juliet to thank for that,” said Jude. “She creates amazing food given the supplies we’re able to get our hands on. Don’t get too fond of it. Bread isn’t an everyday thing. For a few weeks, we were living off of a lot of chickpea fritters and tinned vegetables.”

“Even that sounds good.” Octavia tore off a piece of bread and placed it on her tongue. She groaned. “I’m in heaven.”

Jude shrugged, the smile remaining on his face. “I wouldn’t call the bunker heaven. It’s a safe place, though. You won’t need to worry about looking over your shoulder now you’re here. There are others to do that for you.”

Octavia gave up on trying to be delicate and shoved the rest of the bread in her mouth. Her stomach growled in appreciation.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She nodded as she took a swallow of coffee, suddenly nervous Jude would ask her something awkward. Maybe he’d noticed her scars. “This is actually coffee?”

“We always make sure to have coffee,” said Jude. “This place would fall apart without it. It helps when you’re on night duty.”

“The only thing it’s missing is cream.”

“That’s not something we get too often,” said Jude. “We might have some powdered stuff in the back room.”

“This is fine. Better than fine. It’s all amazing.” She stuffed more bread into her mouth and glanced nervously at Jude.

“So, how have you managed so long on your own?” Jude’s tone was serious as he cupped his hands around a mug.

“My training helped,” said Octavia. “I’m guessing you know something about that. You and your brothers were all in the military, weren’t you?” From their chatter on the radio, and the way they conducted their recon and search and rescue missions, they all had to have specialist training.

“That’s right,” said Jude. “I was a Signal Fusilier. I know my way around a communications network.”

“I spent a lot of time working deep undercover,” said Octavia. “You have to be prepared for that. You have to know what it will be like if your cover is blown. Torture is inevitable. Death is also highly likely.” She finished the second slice of bread. “You’re not having any of this?”

“Take what you like,” said Jude. “It looks like you need it.”

Octavia frowned, her hand hovering over an apple. Did she really look that dreadful?

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Jude grimaced and touched her arm. “I meant you look hungry.”

She dropped her hand into her lap. “You think I look half-starved?”

“Shit! I’m not saying this well. What I mean is, I’m guessing you didn’t have much to eat when you were in the van. I’ve had three regular meals every day for months. I don’t need it.”

Her gaze flicked over his broad shoulders and chest. He was right there. Jude filled out his clothes perfectly.

Her hunger won out over her manners. She shrugged as she tried the fruitcake. The sweetness of the dried fruit made her eyes roll back in her head. “I get it. I’m not what you expected from the voice. You wanted some hot chick in knee-high boots and a push-up bra. Someone with tousled hair and come-fuck-me red lips.”

Jude’s nose wrinkled. “That’s not my type. You’re exactly what I imagined.” He raked a hand through his dark hair, making it stand up in messy peaks. “I mean, I imagined what you’d be like. I already knew what you sounded like.”

“I had the upper hand on you,” said Octavia. “The State post pictures of you and your brothers everywhere.”

He grinned. “You’ve been checking me out?”

She felt her cheeks heat and looked down at the food. “I figured it wouldn’t do any harm. It’s always good to know who you’re working with. If I hadn’t done a background check on you, I’d have been an idiot.”

The smile remained on Jude’s face. He was even cuter when he smiled, with two dimples on each cheek. “Of course.”

She stuffed the rest of the fruitcake in her mouth and drank more coffee. She was growing warm in the scarf and cap but there was no way she was ready to take them off.

The canteen door opened. A tall, trim woman in her mid-forties walked through. She had short dark hair. What surprised Octavia was the eyepatch the woman wore. “Who’s that?”