Chapter 5 #2
Or if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve liked him ever since the first time we met.
We were at a charity event for the Sleepy Hollow first responders, and I bumped into Kane—literally—at the buffet table.
I was looking down, my default when I’m around a group of people, and I ran right into him, knocking his plate of food to the ground.
I was mortified, but he didn’t even blink.
He brushed aside my apologies, cleaned up the mess with a smile, and insisted on joining me to eat once he’d refilled his plate again.
We only ended up talking for about ten minutes before one of his friends came to find him, but in that time, my crush was born.
A silly, schoolgirl crush, I used to think. One that would never go anywhere.
But now?
Maybe, just maybe, it could end up being more.
“Coffee?” The server appears beside our table with a steaming coffeepot in hand.
She gives me a cursory look before focusing all her attention on Kane.
He’s easily the most handsome man in the diner—in all of Sleepy Hollow, in my opinion—so it’s not a surprise that she’s flashing a megawatt smile at him and fluttering her lashes hard enough to cause a small breeze.
“Would you like your regular, Officer Montague?” she asks with a hint of a purr in her voice. “I can ask the cook to bump your order to the front if you’re in a hurry.”
He gives her a polite nod in greeting. “Coffee would be good. But no to the rest. We’ll take two menus to look through. And—” He glances at me and smiles. “I’m not in a hurry. Not today.”
OH.
I think my heart just melted into a puddle on the floor.
With a little huff, our server drops two menus on the table. Then she fills the cups with fresh coffee and grumbles, “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”
The next few minutes are occupied by scanning the menus—not that I don’t know what’s on there, but I still read through it every time—and placing our orders and pouring just the right amount of cream and sugar into my coffee.
Nora always jokes that I make my coffee with the intensity of a gourmet chef, checking and tasting at least four times before deciding it’s right.
After I take my fifth sip of coffee, sighing with pleasure to discover it’s finally perfect, I look over at Kane to find him watching me with a bemused expression.
My cheeks heat. “I know,” I explain quickly. “It’s kind of ridiculous how long it takes me. Nora always makes fun of me for it. I’m not sure?—”
“It’s not ridiculous.” He gives me a soft smile. “I think it’s cute. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting your coffee to taste good. God knows, I’ve had enough terrible coffee to know the value of a really good cup.”
The band tightening around my chest eases. “Is it true, then? That the coffee at the police station tastes like mud?”
“Close to it,” he agrees. “I’m not sure why. We even took up a collection to buy a better coffeemaker, but it doesn’t seem to matter. It always tastes terrible.”
“I think I got it from my mom,” I say after a second.
“Being so picky about my coffee. She used to be the same way. I remember when I was little she would make this big production out of it, and she’d keep the creamer in this little silver pitcher so it looked all fancy when she poured it.
And she always bought sugar cubes, so she’d put them in one at a time with a special spoon.
At the end, she’d give me a cube to suck on. ”
A beat later, I inwardly cringe. Kane doesn’t care about sugar cubes and special creamer pitchers. He’s just making conversation.
“I love that.” Kane pauses, looking pensive.
“Having those kinds of memories with your mom. I still remember cooking Sunday morning breakfast with my dad. Sometimes he had to work weekends, but when he didn’t, he’d get up early to make breakfast for my mom.
I’d get up to help him, and we’d make a huge mess in the kitchen. But my mom never seemed to mind.”
I remember Kane mentioning that his dad died a long time ago, but I don’t know the details of when or how. “Were you close, then? You and your dad?”
“We were. He had to work a lot, but whenever he wasn’t, he was one hundred percent present for me and my mom. Taking us on trips, fixing up the house, or just sitting with me after dinner, helping with homework.”
He takes a sip of coffee, his gaze going distant for a moment. “He passed away when I was in middle school. It was a traffic stop—he was a State Trooper—and a drunk driver just slammed right into him.”
My heart twists. “Kane. I’m so sorry.”
His mouth curves into a sad smile. “It’s okay. It’s been a long time. But he’s the reason I wanted to be a cop. Before he died, and especially after.”
I touch his hand. “He must be so proud of you.”
“You think?”
“Yes. I do. How could he not be? What you do is so brave.”
Twin spots of pink appear high on his cheeks. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Sorry. Should I not have said that?”
“No, it was fine. I just don’t think about myself that way. But I like thinking about my dad being proud.” He stops. His expression sobers. “Your mom passed away not too long ago, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” I wait for the familiar pain to slash into me, but with Kane here, it doesn’t seem to hurt as badly.
“Just about four years ago. That’s why I came back to Sleepy Hollow; to take care of her.
She had end-stage renal disease. Originally, we hoped she’d get a transplant.
But it just didn’t work out. I was here for about a year before she passed away. ”
“Jess.” Kane gathers both my hands in his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. This is supposed to be a nice date, and here I am?—”
“It’s okay.” Squeezing his hands, I add, “I don’t mind you asking. And isn’t this what we’re here for? To get to know each other better?”
Although that’s easy to say when he doesn’t know the biggest secret of them all.
Or does he? Like Nora, does he know about what happened in high school and just never said anything about it?
“You’re right,” he replies. “But I meant to start with more cheerful topics. Like your promotion and how it’s going. If you went on that quest last night and got the special dagger you’ve been wanting.”
“The Shadow Serpent’s blade?”
“Yes. That.” He grins. “Did you get it?”
Excitement fizzes up as I return his smile.
“I did. It took a few tries to kill the final guy, but we finally got him around midnight. Which is much later than I like to stay up, but we were in the middle of the dungeon, and the whole guild was there, and then our guild leader had this new strategy…”
Trailing off, I give Kane a sheepish look. “Too much information?”
“Not at all.” His expression softens. “I enjoy hearing you talk about your game.” After a beat, he adds, “I was thinking about it. The game I mean. I had fun playing the other night. Is that something you’d like to do again?”
“Play Tenebris Veil with you?”
His smile goes unexpectedly shy. “Yeah. Unless you’d rather not.”
“I’d love to,” I reply quickly. “Any time you want. We could do some more beginner quests. Get you geared up better. Unless you want to watch a raid instead. You wouldn’t be able to go, since you’re not high enough level.”
“Either works. How about the next time we have dinner? I have the weekend off again. So we could go out and then head back to your place after.” He pauses. “Unless that’s too soon. I’m not trying to rush you.”
I’m just about to reassure Kane that he’s not rushing me—well, maybe a little, but I actually like it after years of cowardly inactivity—my phone chimes with a series of texts.
My stomach jumps. One text is normal. One text could be Nora checking in about game night, which I still haven’t committed to. One text could be Thea asking about next week’s Bachelor -watching session.
But five texts in a row? That’s more worrisome. Five texts in a row makes me think there’s a problem.
“Jess?” Concern turns Kane’s eyes to a deep ocean blue. “Do you need to check that?”
At first I’m not sure why he’s asking. The texts just came in, after all.
Then I belatedly realize I’ve been sitting here, frozen, as all the possible bad things that could have happened speed through my brain.
An emergency at work that’s somehow my fault.
Nora hurt on one of her jobs. My house inexplicably burned down despite not getting any alerts through my security system.
“Sorry,” I blurt nonsensically. Reaching into my purse, I rummage around for my phone. “I don’t usually look at my phone when I’m out with someone, but I should probably…”
“Of course,” he replies. “Don’t worry about it.”
But I am worried.
I can’t explain why, but the butterflies in my stomach seem certain. Something is wrong.
No. I’m being silly. Looking for problems when there aren’t any. For all I know, it’s just a spam number texting me, asking for donations or trying to sell me something.
When I first see the unfamiliar number on the screen, I breathe a momentary sigh of relief. It’s not Nora. Or Jackson, whose number she insisted I have in case of an emergency. It’s not work. And I know the absurdity of thinking my house is on fire.
Then I read the first message, and my heart lurches to a stop.
You’ll be sorry.
Then the second.
You know what you did.
And the third.
If you’re smart, you’ll leave town. Soon.
The fourth and fifth are just repeats of the first two, this time all in bold.
By the time I read all of them, my hands are slick with sweat and my heart is racing. A chill grabs hold of my body; shaking it.
“Jess?” Kane gets up from his seat and comes around to my side, crouching down beside me. “What’s wrong? ”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I reply automatically. But the quiver in my voice belies my words. With a trembling hand, I move to shove my phone back into my purse, but Kane stops me.
“Tell me,” he says. “Is it work? Do you need to leave?”
I shake my head jerkily. “It’s not work.”
“Then—” He stops. Frowns. “Jess. I don’t want to be pushy. But if something’s wrong… Didn’t you say you’d tell me?”
I did. Not ten minutes ago, actually. But to show Kane a series of messages that will lead to questions I’d rather not answer right now? To ruin our date with the reminder of how much people in town don’t like me?
“Can I look?” Kane asks, sensing me wavering. He holds out his hand. And against my better judgment, I pass my unlocked phone over to him, leaving the unpleasant texts right there for him to see.
He stares at my phone, his features growing darker by the second. His jaw twitches. Then he looks up at me and asks in a low, controlled tone, “Is this the first time you’ve gotten messages like these?”
Shame settles over me. “No,” I whisper.
“No?” His voice dips dangerously. “You’ve gotten messages like this before?”
My gaze drops to the floor. “A few times. But never this many. Just one here or there. And it’s been a long time…”
Kane stands and grabs his chair, dragging it over so it’s directly in front of me.
Then he drops back into it and takes both my hands.
Banked anger flares in his gaze. “This isn’t okay, Jess.
I can’t believe—” He huffs out a heavy sigh.
“Shit, Jess. I’m sorry. But we need to do something about this.
I can trace the number. Find out who this asshole is and?—”
“It’s okay.” I drag my eyes to his. “It’s just… there are people in Sleepy Hollow who don’t like me. They’d rather I leave. So some of them—I don’t know who—think sending threatening messages will convince me.”
“It’s not okay,” he retorts. “At all.”
Although I don’t want to, I feel trapped into an explanation. “Back in high school, I messed up. And there are a lot of people who remember. Who were happier when I didn’t live here.”
“I don’t give a shit what happened in high school, Jess.
” Kane leans closer to me. Close enough to catch a whiff of his woodsy scent, a blend of pine and citrus and something else that’s uniquely him.
Close enough to see the little scar just below his hairline and the tiny freckle on his right cheekbone.
Close enough to want to fling myself into his arms and let his strength carry me for a change, instead of dealing with everything on my own.
“High school was a long time ago,” he continues in a gentler tone. “We were kids back then. Anyone who’s still hanging on to that old crap needs to move on. They shouldn’t be rude to you in town. And they definitely shouldn’t be sending you threatening texts.”
“I tried getting a new number,” I admit. “A couple of years ago. But it’s such a small town… it’s impossible to keep anything a secret.”
“Maybe so.” His thumbs rub across my palms again, the small movement soothing to my unsettled nerves.
“But I’m not okay with you getting texts like this.
I’m going to run the number they came from.
It might be a burner phone; most cowards who act like this use one, but I want to know for sure.
And if you get more of these messages, I want you to let me know. Okay?”
It’s jarring, having someone step in like this—not just offering to help, but demanding it.
I can’t remember the last time I opened up enough for anyone to know I needed help.
I can’t remember the last time I thought I deserved it.
“Is that okay?” Kane repeats. “If you really don’t want me to help, I won’t. But… Shit, Jess. I care about you. And I want to make sure you’re safe.”
Oh.
Did I think my heart already melted? Now it’s official.
“I’ll tell you if I get any more,” I tell him. “But.” I grab my phone and drop it back into my purse. “I don’t want to talk about it any more right now. I just want to enjoy breakfast with you. Would that be okay?”
He gives me a long look. Long enough to wonder if he’s not going to let it go.
Then he does something completely unexpected.
His arms come around me, pulling me into his embrace. His chin rests on my head, and his breath feathers across my hair. One hand rubs up and down my back in slow, soothing strokes. Something—his lips?—press to the top of my head.
We sit like that for a long time before he finally pulls away. With understanding in his eyes, he says, “Okay. Breakfast. And I want to hear all about this quest you went on last night. Then we’ll make plans for our date this weekend. How’s that sound?”
My mood, which was hovering somewhere just above the floor, fizzes up again. With a smile, I give Kane another quick hug. “That sounds perfect.”