Chapter 7 The Midnight Knight
The Midnight Knight
Standing outside Brooke's twelve-story apartment building at midnight, I couldn't help but wonder if this was the exact moment I'd officially crossed the line from persistent romantic interest to guy who definitely needs a restraining order.
My hands were shaking, not from nerves, but from what I was choosing to call anticipatory enthusiasm. Brooke had stood me up tonight, which could only mean one thing: she was so overwhelmed by our chemistry that she needed time to process her feelings. Obviously.
I squinted at the building's call button panel like it held the secrets of the universe. Spoiler alert: it didn’t, just a bunch of unlabeled buttons that might as well have been a game of apartment roulette.
I could either ring every single buzzer until I found her, definitely crossing into stalker territory, or admit defeat and try the café tomorrow like a normal person.
That's when the universe decided to have a sense of humor.
The front door burst open, and out stumbled Brooke in all her midnight glory, oversized t-shirt sliding off one shoulder, sweatpants that had clearly given up on life, and sandals that screamed I wasn't planning on leaving my apartment tonight.
Her hair was piled on top of her head in what I generously called a messy bun but was probably more accurately described as gravity-defying chaos.
She was absolutely beautiful.
Her sleepy blue eyes locked onto mine, and I watched in real-time as her expression shifted from confusion to horror to the particular brand of mortification reserved for moments when you realize you look like you just wrestled a pillow and lost.
"Matt?" she squeaked, her voice hitting a pitch that probably summoned neighborhood dogs.
Time for damage control.
"It's not what it looks like!" The words tumbled out so fast they practically tripped over each other. "I mean, okay, it's exactly what it looks like, but I have a perfectly reasonable explanation that doesn't involve me being a creepy stalker person!"
Her brows pulled together.
"You didn't show up tonight, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"At midnight?" She crossed her arms, which only made her oversized shirt slide further off her shoulder. I heroically kept my eyes on her face.
"When you put it like that, it does sound a little…" I paused, searching for the right word. "Unhinged?"
Her gaze dropped to my black suit, and I suddenly remembered I was still dressed for our non-date. "Why are you so dressed up this late?"
"Because I had a date tonight that never showed up." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but judging by the way her face crumpled, I'd failed spectacularly.
"Matt, I'm so…"
Her phone buzzed, distracting her, and she glanced at it, her face paling. "The security alarm in my café is going off. I have to go. Now."
My protective instincts kicked in so hard they practically did a backflip. "Are the police there?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, but I really have to go."
"I'll drive you." It wasn't a question.
"Matt, it's late, and you've already done enough…"
"Nope." I held up a hand. "I'm not letting you go alone to a potentially dangerous situation at midnight. You can either ride with me willingly, or I can follow you in my truck while playing Eye of the Tiger at full volume. Your choice."
She stared at me for a long moment, probably calculating whether I was serious about the soundtrack threat. I absolutely was.
Sighing, she nodded. "Okay, let's go."
The two-minute drive to her café was filled with the kind of loaded silence that practically hummed with unspoken words. Words about tonight's missed date were dancing on the tip of my tongue, but it wasn't the right time. My fingers tapped an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel.
When we rounded the corner and saw her café, we both sucked in sharp breaths.
"Oh my God," Brooke whispered, and before I could even put the truck in park, she was out and running toward the destruction.
I caught up with her just as she was about to charge through the missing window. "Whoa there, Nancy Drew." I threw an arm out to stop her. "Let me check inside first. For all we know, the Incredible Hulk is in there having a really bad day."
She was already dialing 911, her voice trembling as she gave the operator information. I stepped through what used to be a window and surveyed the damage.
Someone had gone full tornado on the place. The pastry case was destroyed, the granite counters looked as if they'd been used for sledgehammer practice, and the tables and chairs had apparently been rearranged by someone with a serious anger management issue.
Glass crunched under my boots with each step as my mind raced, calculating the days of work ahead, sweeping, repairing, rebuilding. It would take at least a day just to clean up the mess and several more days to fix and replace everything.
When I stepped back outside, red and blue lights were painting the scene. A uniformed officer was taking Brooke's statement, and she looked so devastated that my heart ached.
"All clear inside," I reported.
The officer looked up at me, and I watched his expression shift from professional to starstruck in record time. His posture straightened like he'd just been visited by the ghost of law enforcement past.
"Oh wow," he breathed. "You're The Mountain! Dude, I am such a huge fan!"
Because, of course, of all the cops in the city, we get the one who probably has my poster on his bedroom wall.
"Can I get a picture? My son would absolutely lose his mind!"
I glanced at Brooke, who was looking at this exchange like she was watching a particularly surreal movie. "Tell you what, Officer…"
"Rodriguez!"
"Officer Rodriguez. You take really good care of my girl here, and I'll make sure you get pictures and an autograph for your son."
His gaze shifted between Brooke and me, and I could practically see the gossip headlines forming in his brain. "That's your girlfriend?"
The disapproval in his tone made something dangerous flicker in my chest. "Be very careful with your next words," I said quietly.
"Oh no, no!" He waved his hands frantically. "I wasn't judging or anything! I just didn't know you were dating anyone!"
"Do you make it a habit of keeping track of my personal life?"
"No! God, no, that would be super weird! I just meant…"
"Just take her statement," I interrupted, before this could get any more awkward.
While Officer Rodriguez fumbled his way through police procedure, I turned to Brooke. "I'm going to make some calls, see how quickly we can get someone out here to board up these windows."
"You don't have to do that," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears.
Before I could think about it, I was pulling her into my arms. She melted against me, and I could feel her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
"Hey." I brushed a tear from her cheek with my thumb. "Don't cry. We're going to fix this, okay? It'll be better than new."
"Why would someone do this?" she asked against my chest. "Every other store on the block is fine. They only targeted mine."
I looked down the street at the untouched neighboring businesses, and a cold certainty settled in my stomach. This wasn't random. This was someone sending a message.
"Thank you for staying." She pulled back from my embrace. "But you don't have to…"
"I'm not going anywhere," I interrupted gently.
"Why?" she asked, and there was something vulnerable in her voice that made my chest tighten. "Why do you want to help me?"
I looked down at her, hair escaping from its haphazard bun, mascara smudged under her eyes, wearing clothes that suggested she'd gotten dressed in the dark, and she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"We can talk about all of that later," I said. "When your café isn't a crime scene and you're not running on three hours of sleep. But for now, I just want to help."
She studied my face for a long moment, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then Officer Rodriguez cleared his throat.
"Ma'am? Could you walk me through the café interior?"
"Of course," she said, then looked back at me. "Thank you, Matt. Really."
As I watched her follow the officer into the wreckage, I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through contacts.
By sunup, Brooke's café was going to have more help than she knew what to do with.