Chapter 8 #2
After twenty minutes, Holly’s questions slowed. Her head tipped back against the couch, and her eyelids lowered. She tried to read one more paragraph about a county boundary dispute and lost the battle halfway through the second sentence.
Blue, already sprawled on the rug, made a groaning sound that suggested he was done supervising for the night.
Reid eased the laptop from Holly’s lap. Before he could stand, her head slid to his shoulder.
He sat absolutely still far longer than was comfortable before he realized she was going to wake up with a terrible crick in her neck.
Carefully, he eased her away from him until she was stretched out on the couch.
She didn’t wake. When he stood, she shifted automatically, curling toward the pillow at the end of the couch.
He waited until she settled, then unfolded the quilt and drew it over her.
Her hand caught the edge, pulling it closer, and for one aching second he let himself remember a different night, a different bed.
He’d replayed that night too many times in his head. It had haunted his dreams, his scant dating life, every time he was reminded of Blackridge and home.
He moved to the breakfast bar with the laptop and his phone, leaving the couch to Holly and the rug to Blue. He sent Jasper everything he had on Hopper Shaw. Jasper replied three minutes later.
On it, Eagle. Go to sleep before you start hallucinating patterns in county tax records.
Reid stared at the call sign longer than he should have.
Eagle had started as a joke, the kind men used when they were uncomfortable saying someone was good at something.
Legal eagle, someone had called him after he’d torn apart a sloppy disciplinary case early in his Navy career.
The name had followed him into Shadow Point, shortened to Eagle because the team preferred it.
He’d accepted it because it was familiar and it kept parts of him neatly categorized.
Tonight, sitting at Holly’s breakfast bar while she slept under the quilt, the name felt less like a label and more like an expectation.
Be an eagle. See clearly. Strike cleanly. Protect what matters.
He glanced over at Holly. She’d turned onto her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the quilt pulled to her shoulder. In sleep, the guarded lines of her face eased, but not all the way. Even exhausted, she carried the day with her.
Reid wanted to keep her safe with a force that went far beyond assignment, beyond loyalty to Shadow Point, beyond the disciplined boundaries he’d spent years building around his own wants.
He wanted to make up for the past, though he knew wanting that didn’t make it possible.
Apologies could open a door. They could not rebuild the house by themselves.
He could still feel the grip of her hand, the kiss. He’d let her initiate it. He would keep letting her initiate anything she wanted, even if it killed him by inches.
He returned to Hopper’s records and read until the words blurred.
At some point, his chin dipped, his arm became a pillow, and sleep took him badly, awkwardly, and without permission.
He woke to the smell of coffee and a pain in his neck that made him groan when he sat upright.
Morning light filled the apartment, pale and soft through the kitchen window. Blue lay under the breakfast bar with one of Reid’s socks trapped beneath one paw, watching him as if he had failed a night watch inspection.
Holly stood at the counter in leggings and a faded sweatshirt, her hair in a loose ponytail, sliding a mug toward him.
Beside the mug was his phone. “Your grandfather’s been calling,” she said.
Reid sat up too fast. His neck objected with a sharp knife of pain. “What?”
“Roni called me because you weren’t answering Linc’s calls.”
He grabbed the phone. Three missed calls from Granddad. Two from Roni. One text from his sister, capital letters doing the yelling.
ANSWER YOUR PHONE. GRANDDAD IS BEING GRANDDAD. HE WANTS YOU ONLY.
Mild panic shot through him. He hit his grandfather’s number and waited through two rings with his pulse too high.
Images crowded in before he could stop them: a fall, confusion, chest pain, his grandfather alone in the house trying to convince himself he didn’t need help.
Of course, he could ask Roni for it, but he wouldn’t show any weakness to her.
Judge Fleming answered with a gruff, “Took you long enough.”
Relief hit so hard Reid had to close his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m hungry.”
Reid opened his eyes. Holly watched him over the rim of her coffee mug.
“You called three times because you’re hungry?” Reid asked.
“I called three times because you didn’t answer the first two.”
He lowered the phone to the counter and put it on speaker, massaging his neck. “What do you need?”
“Coffee from Holly’s place and one of those muffins. The lemon ones, if she has them. If not, cranberry. Not blueberry. Blueberry is a muffin lying about being dessert.”
Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s Sunday, Judge. Sanctuary is closed.”
“You’re standing in the building, aren’t you?”
“I’m upstairs.”
“Then walk downstairs. You used to be more resourceful, Reid.”
Holly turned away, but her shoulders moved with silent laughter.
Reid looked at the ceiling. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Bring Holly if she’s there. I haven’t seen her in too long.”
Judge Fleming had the subtlety of a gavel when he chose to use it.
“I’ll call you back.”
“No need. I’ll expect you.”
The call ended.
Reid blew out a long breath. “He’s fine.”
She took another sip of coffee, and the softness in her voice did something dangerous to his chest. “I have lemon muffins in the freezer downstairs. They’ll reheat fine.”
“You don’t have to open the shop on Sunday because my grandfather has a craving.”
“The owner has keys.”
“Really, it’s no problem. I can have Roni pick up something for him from the store.”
She lifted one brow. “Don’t argue with the person holding your future in her hands.”
He smiled despite everything. “That sounds like extortion.”
“It’s breakfast logistics.” She glanced toward Blue, who’d started wagging as soon as her voice had lightened.
“Besides, Blue needs the dog park. We can deliver Judge Fleming’s order, then let Blue run off whatever chaos he stored overnight, and spend ten minutes pretending the world isn’t actively on fire. ”
Reid looked at her, at the woman who’d kissed him, fallen asleep beside him, woken before him, made coffee, handled his family panic with gentleness, and was now offering his grandfather muffins.
He didn’t deserve this either.
He wanted to. He wanted to become the man who did deserve it. “Coffee and muffins with Granddad, then the dog park.”
Holly poured her coffee into a travel mug. “Good. Let’s go before the universe notices we’re trying to have a quiet morning.”