Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The FBI agents had been gone less than five minutes, and Holly already missed them.
Not because Claire Dawson and Emmet Cahors had been comforting. Nothing about two federal agents walking into her coffee shop and explaining that Sanctuary might be connected to a string of attacks could be considered comforting.
But when they’d been there, she’d been able to focus on their questions and warnings, their clipped federal calm. Now the shop was too quiet, Maya was still out, and Reid stood near the office door with a grim look on his face, as if he belonged in her space because someone with a badge said so.
He didn’t belong in her space.
Unfortunately, the loyalty card suggested her space had bigger problems than one tall, dark-haired mistake from her past.
Holly crossed behind the counter because it gave her something solid between them.
The familiar layout helped. Register to her right.
Pastry case in front. Espresso machine behind her.
Cups stacked by size. Lids arranged in bins.
Syrup pumps wiped clean. Everything in its place, waiting for the lunch crowd as if her whole world hadn’t tipped sideways before noon.
Reid followed at a distance, scanning the café in a way that irritated her almost as much as it reassured her.
He looked out the front windows to the patio beyond the rain-blurred glass.
His attention then turned to the hallway to the restrooms, the swinging door leading to the kitchen, and the narrow staircase near the back that led up to her apartment.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “The full tour is at three.”
He caught the sarcasm in her tone, ignored it. “I need to do a security sweep.”
She reached for a clean towel and wiped a spotless section of counter because her hands needed something to do to stop them from shaking. “You can start first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I need to start now.”
She tossed the towel beside the sink. “I’m not prepared to train you today. You’ll just be in the way.”
Reid’s expression stayed unemotional. If he’d been brusque or high-handed, she could’ve argued with him. Instead, he was being reasonable, and reasonable men were very hard to throw out when murder had entered the conversation.
“I know this feels invasive,” he said.
“Does it? Because I was going to describe it as delightful.”
“Holly.”
The quiet way he said her name stripped some of the sarcasm from her. She hated that her body still responded to his voice, that he’d remembered the dream she’d once whispered in the dark.
She turned away and adjusted the cup sleeves. “I have a lunch rush coming, Maya will be back any minute, and I need to figure out what to tell her about why you’re suddenly wearing an apron in my shop. I also have dinner plans with Roni.”
“I don’t have to wear an apron.”
“You absolutely do if you’re working behind my counter.”
“Then I’ll wear an apron, but I suggest you cancel your plans with my sister.”
Again, it was said with calm assurance. Her irritation heated in her stomach. “I’m not canceling anything.”
“I’m not ordering you around—you don’t like lying to her. Going to dinner will force you to. That’s all I was suggesting.”
Holly made herself breathe through the tightness in her chest at his nearness, at the way, her pulse sped up every time she met his gorgeous blue eyes. At how stupid she felt that he was right.
Warren Ackles. Sharla Mapes. Nell Truett. She repeated the names and her head like a mantra. Two were dead, and poor, sweet Nell was severely injured. Her broken heart was not the priority.
That was a cold little truth, but it was useful.
Reid could stand there with his blue eyes and his familiar mouth and the history she’d spent years folding into a manageable size.
None of that changed the fact that someone had used Sanctuary to get close to people.
Her people. Her customers. Her staff. Her safe place.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I’m not happy about you being shoved on me.”
He nodded, studying her face closely. “Under the circumstances, I’d say that’s expected.”
Under the circumstances—as if breaking her heart was just an inconvenience. She twisted the towel between her hands. “I refuse to let Sanctuary become unsafe for Maya or for anyone who comes here because they need a place to sit for twenty minutes and feel like the world isn’t chewing on them.”
Reid’s gaze moved over the café again, but this time it didn’t feel tactical. It felt more personal. “You run a tight operation.”
The compliment was practical, almost plain, and somehow it slid under her defenses more effectively than it had any right to.
Her throat tightened, which annoyed her.
Reid noticing that she’d built the dream had hurt.
Reid noticing that she ran it well, on a day when she felt as if every wall had been breached, was worse.
“You sound surprised,” she said.
“I’m not.”
Holly tossed down the towel and reached for the stack of to-go cups to straighten them, though they were already straight. “That doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes one thing,” he said. “You know this place. I need that. I can assess locks, entrances, sight lines, and routines, but you know the people. You know who sits where, and who comes in on what days.”
She wished that it would ease some of the pressure in her chest. “So now my knowledge is a federal asset?”
“I’d call it situational awareness.”
“Lawyers…always looking for a loophole.”
His mouth softened. “I’ll do my best to keep everyone safe.”
Everyone.
He understood the thing that mattered most, and that made some of the fight drain out of her. She still didn’t want him here. She still wanted to rewind the day to Roni’s cinnamon roll theft and Hoyt’s bad manners, before FBI badges and dead customers.
But wanting had never been the same as getting. “Fine,” she said. “You can do your sweep, but not while I’m open and not while Maya’s here unless you want to explain why my new employee is inspecting door locks.”
“I can start with what doesn’t look unusual from the public areas.”
The front bell chimed. Maya entered carrying the bank bag and shaking rain from her tight spirals, completely unaware that she was stepping into the wreckage of Holly’s morning.
“Deposit made,” she said, nudging the door shut with her hip. “Receipt tape acquired.”
Her gaze landed on Reid. She stopped so fast she nearly dropped the bank bag.
Holly should’ve had a speech ready. Something breezy and normal. Something that didn’t sound like she’d been informed by the FBI that her coffee shop might be a killer’s hunting ground and the man who’d once left her before dawn was now pretending to be her employee.
“Maya,” Holly said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice, “this is Reid Fleming. He’s going to help out here for a while.”
Maya blinked. “Help out? As in, you hired him?”
Reid stepped forward, calm as ever, and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Roni’s brother.”
Recognition cleared some of Maya’s confusion. “Oh. Dog Roni.”
Holly nearly smiled despite herself. “Don’t call her that to her face unless you want a lecture.”
Maya shook Reid’s hand, still looking a little dazed. He’d always had that effect on women. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t know we were hiring.”
“It happened quickly,” Holly said.
Maya’s eyes slid over Reid in a way that made Holly want to throw a towel over his head. “Well. Great. I mean, good. Holly works too much, and I can’t cover all the hours she needs, especially with finals coming up.”
“That’s one of the reasons,” Holly said, latching onto the excuse.
Maya carried the bank bag to the counter and leaned close while Reid turned toward the tablet showing Blue snoring loudly. “You hired that and didn’t warn me?”
Holly kept her voice low. “Maya.”
“What? I’m saying congratulations on your excellent staffing decision.”
“He’s temporary.”
“So are pumpkin spice drinks, but people still line up for them.”
Pain pinched Holly’s chest before she could guard against it.
Maya was innocently teasing. She didn’t know Reid wasn’t simply an attractive temporary employee with broad shoulders and a smile that could wreck every woman in Blackridge.
She didn’t know he came with a one-night history, a dawn departure, and a new assignment to sleep somewhere near Holly’s apartment door because a killer might have decided Sanctuary was more than a coffee shop.
“Lunch prep,” Holly said.
Maya’s smile faltered. “Right. Sorry.”
Guilt moved through Holly immediately. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been a weird morning.”
“Is everything okay?”
Holly hated that she had to lie. “It will be. I’m just adjusting to the idea of another person in my kitchen, but we definitely can use the help.”
Reid turned from the tablet with a smile that softened his face. “That’s Blue,” he said.
On the screen, Sweet Blue snored on, oblivious to them. Holly felt her eyebrows lift. “You know my dog?”
“I met him at Roni’s. He’s smart. He tried to open the treat cabinet.”
Maya laughed. “Blue tries to open every treat cabinet at least once a week.”
Reid’s smile lingered on the screen. “Roni said he’s part cattle dog, part terrier, part criminal mastermind.”
The easy familiarity between Reid and Blue, Reid and Roni, Reid and the corners of Holly’s life he’d somehow reached while she wasn’t looking made her want to scream.
Her heart, traitorous organ that it was, still beat like a bird against a cage, every time his voice ripped over her skin.
Maya tied on her apron and headed toward the back. “I’ll start the soup warmer and prep sandwiches.”
“Thank you,” Holly said. “Reid, come with me.”
His gaze left the tablet. “Are you going to teach me the espresso machine?”
“Absolutely not. I’m giving you the fastest tour in the history of food service.”