Chapter 1
Chapter One
Sterling Fox leaned back in the stool at the corner of the bar.
This had become his seat at Juniper's Pub.
He came in every Friday night for the fish fry, unless there was a special at the Crab Shack.
However, Saturday nights were kept for drinking beer and eating crab, followed by a last drink at Juniper's.
Hell, who was he kidding? This was his usual haunt almost every night.
"Can I get you another?" Juniper Solstice, the owner of the pub. asked as she pulled a bottle of Buffalo Trace from the shelf.
"Not yet." He watched her pour two fingers into a rocks glass and tried not to count the freckles on her right cheek.
He counted six. Same as always.
She'd pulled her hair all the way on top of her head, but large chunks had fallen out of her wild bun an hour ago. Four curly tendrils fell on the side of her face, and he wanted to reach out and tuck them back into her ponytail holder.
It was a weird thought. But whenever he was around her, dozens of thoughts went through his mind that he wouldn't normally have.
If he looked up perfection in the dictionary, Juniper Solstice would be the definition. It wasn't just her good looks—with her bronzed complexion, eyes the color of the ocean, and a fit figure—but she could carry a conversation with style and wit. Her ability to make him laugh was unfailing.
"You were invited to this shindig," he said. "Why don't you sit down and let the people who work for you do the heavy lifting."
"Gigi had to go home ten minutes ago," she said. "Her little one got a stomach bug."
Juniper had closed the restaurant at eight so Buddy and Fallon could have the place for a reception. Fallon had no family left, except everyone in Calusa Cove. Buddy didn't have blood either, but he had people, and the town had shown up.
She slid the whiskey across to Silas Monroe, a local fisherman, born and raised in Calusa Cove, at the far curve of the bar. "Here you go."
"Thank you, ma'am." Silas tipped his head. "We sure do love how you gave this place new life."
Sterling took a slow pull off his beer. The bottom half of the bottle had gone warm. In Florida, no matter the season, if you didn't drink it fast enough, it went warm quick.
The bar around him smelled like fried grouper and the sweet vegetable rot of the inlet at low tide. Behind the bottles, Thomas Rhett was singing about being a happy man.
It was a great song, especially for the happy couple.
And Sterling was happy, too. He didn't need a woman in his life to be fulfilled. He never had. But now that he was a year out of the CIA and not running ops on foreign soil, his world had become quiet.
Five months in Calusa Cove, and calm still hadn't settled in his bones quite as deeply as it had for Buddy or Dovelynn.
Sterling kept reaching for it, and he'd found pieces of it, but parts of his soul still missed the shock of adrenaline when the unexpected bullet whizzed by his head.
It had happened once or twice in this job with the Aegis Network, but it was rare.
However, for the first time in his life, he found himself questioning the core of who he thought he was and what that meant.
In Langley, happiness had been a transaction.
A cleared op, a closed file, a problem solved that wouldn’t come back.
Down here, it had become a sunset he hadn't earned.
A bar stool that had become his with no one telling him it wasn't. A boss he respected and a job that didn't ask him to lie to people for a living.
He took another pull and let the warm beer move down his throat.
"Are you sure I can't get you another?" Juniper asked. "Because I need to bring shots over to them."
"You go." He smiled.
"Feel free to reach around the bar and grab one when you're ready." She tapped her hand on the wood counter. "Buddy's buying anyway."
"Will do." He watched her pour six shots of tequila, place them on a tray, and bring them over to the young deputies of Calusa Cove and two firefighters.
"You're staring," Cullen Monroe said as he approached the bar. Cullen was Silas' nephew, a former Marine, the local handyman, and also part-time Aegis Network employee. Sterling also called him friend.
"Everyone in here is looking at something," Sterling said.
"Your eyes are fixed on the bartender." Cullen lowered himself onto the stool next to Sterling. "Like they are every time you're here." He held a fresh beer in his hand. "It's obvious to everyone."
"Drink your beer."
"I'm just saying." Cullen tipped his beer back. "I don't know if it's pathetic or sweet."
"Keep this conversation going, and the next time old lady Hannah calls, I'm giving the assignment to you."
"That's an easy one," Cullen said. "Just tell her the aliens have landed, and they want to harvest her eggs for reproduction."
"That's just mean."
"I grew up next to that crazy woman." Cullen leaned back. "Makes the stories about witch-owls seem normal."
"Nothing about those are normal." Sterling had a love-hate relationship with the folklore in this town.
It was creepy as hell. But it also helped make Calusa Cove a rich, lively, and exciting place to live.
Especially when at first glance it appeared to be a sleeper town with a population of four-hundred citizens and an economy that had been dying since the Great Depression.
"Never thought I'd see the day Buddy would get married," Sterling said.
Out past Cullen, at the far curve of the bar, Buddy stood with his arm around Fallon's waist and his face pressed into her hair.
They'd been like that, more or less, since they'd walked in two hours ago.
Buddy looked like a man who had received a prize he wasn't sure he deserved but didn't intend to put down.
Fallon leaned against his chest and had been smiling like she won the Calusa Cove pie making contest.
"And to Fallon." Cullen laughed. "And when I say that, it's not a put-down. Just that I've known that girl my entire life. Fiercely independent. Stubbornly loyal. And not someone I'd want to go head-to-head with on any argument."
"It's why she and Buddy are perfect for each other."
"You're probably right."
Sterling would remember this night forever and not just because he categorized everything like a library. But tonight was one of those nights that mattered. That made up touch points that could lift a man during his darkest hour. Didn't matter that it wasn't his moment—it was still a moment.
"You hear what Trent's calling the baby?" Cullen asked.
Sterling pulled his eyes off Buddy and Fallon. "Do I even want to ask?"
"Scutelet. Scutelet Mallor."
"That's not a name. That's a reptile scale and a life sentence. No way will Dove go for that."
"He said he doesn't need her permission for the in-utero nickname. Said the kid is currently the size of a tadpole and a tadpole doesn't have an opinion."
"He's going to get hit."
"She's poked him in the biceps a dozen times.
He's leaning into it. Says he's practicing for when she's in labor and calling him names and tossing tennis balls at his head.
" Cullen laughed. "I think Trent is enjoying this way too much.
But I have to say, I'm glad he's excited to be a dad.
It's good to see that man have some happiness in his life. "
"They both deserve it." Sterling raised his beer before taking another slow sip. Down the bar, Juniper said something to Silas that made the old man's shoulders shake, and Sterling watched the corner of her mouth tip into a half smile.
He'd watched her for five months and had built a small private catalog of all her expressions.
He shouldn't have. It was rude. He used to tell himself it was a hazard of the job, but the reality was, it was simply a hazard of being Sterling.
Having the ability to remember every detail wasn't always the best.
"Earth to Sterling." Cullen waved his hand in front of Sterling. "Where'd you go? I've been having a conversation about coming into the office tomorrow and you're… staring."
"I'm taking a walk."
"You haven't moved."
"Mentally."
"That's the strangest thing I've ever heard."
"You're going to be working more at Aegis, so get used to it.
" Sterling tore his gaze from Juniper, and it landed on Trent as he strolled through the bar with a protective arm around Dove.
Trent looked like a walking cliché of trouble.
He had long, wavy, wild hair and a perpetual five o'clock shadow.
He was thick muscled, and tall. When he entered a room, the people in it parted like the Red Sea.
Not because anyone was in awe of Trent, though he was impressive with the way he spoke to alligators, and how they listened, but because he was just a massive presence.
Trent pulled back a stool and helped Dove up onto the seat. They were an odd couple. Trent lived for his land and the gators that fed off it. Dove was a hard-ass who didn't let anyone in and preferred bullets to anything soft and comfortable.
"I bet Fallon comes back pregnant from this honeymoon," Dove said.
"My money says she's already pregnant." Cullen tapped his fingers on the counter to the beat of the music.
"But doesn't want to tell anyone until she's showing.
" He waved a finger. "That's how my ex played it.
Drove me crazy. I'd go out with my buddies, open my mouth to say something and realize, shit, can't say that because then they'd know. "
"Buddy will be a good father," Trent said. "Fallon as a mom? That's questionable." He laughed.
"At least she won't call her child Scutelet." Dove poked Trent's arm.
"It's a nickname. And a damn good one." Trent rubbed his biceps.
"You keep calling our child that, and I'm naming your replacement."
"Hey," Trent said. "That's not nice."
"Hush, Mallor," Dove said. "Sense my tone."