Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Juniper leaned against the back counter, hands loosely tucked into her jeans pockets and tried to relax.
She didn't have too many rules when it came to the bar.
However, there was one big one. Never let the locals bartend.
That's what the previous owner had told her was the most important thing because once you let them step around that counter, they never left.
However, Sterling wasn't just any local.
He was her local and the man she was technically dating.
First person she'd dated since Mark died.
The timing was all wrong. The situation even worse.
But Sterling had wormed his way into her daily thoughts, and she didn't want to let go.
Earlier, he'd gone and brought her an ice cream from the shop over by the marina without her even asking. She thought that had been so sweet.
Not just the treat, but the gesture.
"You're putting the pints with the rocks glasses," she said.
"I'm putting them where they fit." Sterling smiled before leaning in and kissing her cheek.
"I'm not tipping that man," Silas called from the other end of the bar. "I don't care if he made me a great whiskey sour. He doesn't work here."
"He does tonight." She chuckled. "And you're tipping me, not him."
"Hey, that's not fair." Sterling winked. "I think I deserve something."
She leaned in and patted his chest. "I'm letting you drive me home. That's something." And for her, it was more than the beginning of something. She was straddling the line between what was real and what was her assignment. What mattered to her heart and what she thought would allow her to survive.
"And walk you to the door and maybe be invited—"
"Quit while you're ahead." On the other side of the bar, Dove pushed her water with lemon off to one side.
"Stop eavesdropping on other people's conversations." Sterling put away the last glass and leaned over the counter.
"Are you kidding? We've been a group all night." Dove shifted, moving Trent's hand to a different location.
When Juniper had come to this town, she'd been told not to play favorites, but that had proved to be impossible. She glanced around. Silas was packing up his stuff, along with his newest, but oldest best friend, Jack, Trent's dad.
"You two heading out?" she asked.
"It's late." Jack strolled across the room. He slapped his son's back, kissed Dove's cheek, and patted her belly. "See you all later."
"Bye, Pops," Trent said. "Drive safe."
"You do the same." Jack turned and followed Silas out the front door. As did a few other locals.
This had become Juniper's town. Her people. She wasn't quite sure when it happened, but this was home, and she didn't know what to do with that.
Sterling reached for her, tugging her closer, looping his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him. She wanted it to feel all wrong. To feel unnatural, like she didn't fit—or belong—with him.
But all she felt was warm and comfortable.
She rested her head on his shoulder, noting the only table left was occupied by Royce, his son, Graham, and Tamera. Wonderful. Just what she needed. She lifted her gaze. "I'm going to let the dishwasher go home as well as my last waitstaff. No reason to keep anyone with just one table left."
"I'll stick around until they leave."
"I'm counting on that," she said. She'd come to depend on Sterling for a lot of things and not in the context of what Bea and the rest of the FBI wanted. It wasn't a ruse. The pretense of possibly needing help with customers that could be a potential problem.
She genuinely wanted him around.
Sterling kissed her temple before she ducked into the small alcove that served as a communal area for the staff. "Hey guys. You can clock out. I've got it from here."
"Are you sure," the dishwasher asked. "I don't mind staying. Even off the clock."
"No. Go ahead. Sterling will stay if you're worried about me being alone."
Her staff were out the door in a flash. She couldn't blame them. Turning, she went back to the bar where she walked right into the middle of a discussion between Sterling and Dove.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Dove said. "You've got ‘til morning and then it's all over for you. Baby's gonna get put in a corner."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Juniper rested her hand on Sterling's back as he was hunched over the bar, running her fingers up and down his spine.
"Buddy's home." Dove held up her cell. "Landed an hour ago. He'll be at the office by eight tomorrow morning, and Sterling here gets to go back to being the man who files things."
"Buddy's the guy who files," Cullen said. "After he breaks out that damn label maker of his. I swear, he gets off using it."
"Oh look, Buddy says he's bringing donuts." Sterling waved his index finger over Dove's phone. "That's nice."
"He's buying us off. Three days he left us with you and your color-coded charts." Cullen tipped his bottle at him. "And you, my friend, are done. No more whiteboard. No more standing up there going, let's do it the slow way."
"It's a good method." Sterling smiled.
"It's a war crime," Cullen said.
"You know, if you're picking on someone or something this hard, it means you like it." Eight months ago, these people had been a case file and a set of faces to learn. Now, Dove's due date sat in Juniper's head next to the liquor order.
"Like the name, Scutelet. You all secretly love the name and want us to choose it for the baby." Trent had one big hand spread flat on the curve of Dove's belly, where it had been most of the night.
"No. Not like that at all," Sterling said. "Talk about war crimes."
"Bloody hell." Trent snatched his hand back like Dove had burned him. He stared at his palm. "Okay, that was a foot. That was a whole entire foot. Do that again." He poked her belly.
"It's not a jukebox, Mallor. It doesn't take requests."
"That’s not a tadpole, either. It's got real freaking feet." He placed his hand on her belly. "Nor is it a Scutelet. It's a Grogu. We're growing a Grogu."
"A what now?" Juniper asked.
"You know, an alien. It's a baby freaking Yoda," Trent said.
Harley giggled so hard she snorted. Sterling dropped his head to the counter and his laughter echoed across the bar.
Dove didn't laugh. She gasped.
Trent just sat there and poked at Dove's stomach again.
Juniper couldn't help herself, she giggled.
"I don't know who's more likely to get punched tonight," Cullen said. "Trent, or that asshole sitting over there."
Juniper shifted her gaze and groaned as she watched Graham kiss Tamara's hand like he was a real gentleman.
The bar area grew quiet.
"Shit man, I'm sorry," Cullen said. "I didn't mean to rain on magic baby moments. I just…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Tamara's been a real bitch lately about who I invite out fishing with me and Tyler. Now she's sitting over there with her new boyfriend and his rich father."
"Don't," Harley whispered.
"Why not? If I can't talk about this stuff with my friends, who can I? Besides, I'm tired of this shit." Cullen dropped his hand to the bar with a thud. "Tyler's my son. I get I was a real dick of a dad for a long time."
"You were suffering from a mental illness." Trent squeezed his shoulder. "You saw some shit during a mission that most men don't come back from. Give yourself a break."
"I am." Cullen wiped his eyes. "I know what I've walked through.
And I know I've come a long way. Three months ago, so did she.
And then that prick with his fancy car and his slick ass smile walked into her life.
He's not a good person. He's going to…" He let out a long breath.
"I can't even say it because every time I have, everyone thinks I'm the crazy one. Sometimes, I can't blame them."
"You're not crazy." Harley looped her arm around his shoulder. "I'm so sorry I was such a coward."
"I don't think that," he whispered. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just a shitty situation. But I can't sit here and do nothing."
Juniper grabbed Sterling's hand as she glanced over her shoulder. She'd been made aware of the situation, and she'd done her own digging. She wished she knew more. But she knew that men like Graham believed they were invincible.
They weren't.
Sterling glanced over his shoulder, then caught Juniper's gaze.
Cullen was on his feet before either one of them could stop him. He marched across the room and stopped Tamara before she reached the door. "Tam. Hey. You got a second?" At least his voice was steady and calm.
That was a good thing.
Juniper released her grip on Sterling's fingers and inched closer.
"What are you doing?" Sterling whispered.
"I'm not letting that happen in my bar," she said.
"I'll go." He stepped in front of her.
Well, she was following, whether Sterling liked it or not.
"It's late," Tamara said with a weak smile. Her blue eyes were dull under the lighting over the door. Her skin was pale, which was odd for anyone who lived full-time in Southwest Florida.
"I just need two minutes of your time. It's about this weekend. About my time with Tyler." Cullen kept his hands at his sides.
"What about it? Are you cancelling?" Tamara asked. "You can't start doing that again. It would break his heart."
"Of course not." Cullen's voice cracked, and he shook his head.
Talk about breaking someone's heart. Juniper's was tearing in half.
"I'm taking him fishing, and I want to bring Harley." He shifted his gaze toward Graham and clenched his fists.
"Absolutely not," Graham said.
"You don't have a say in my son's life." Cullen glared.
"I'm sorry, but no." Tamara folded her arms. "We've talked about this, and my answer is the same."
"Harley's done nothing wrong." Cullen wiggled his fingers.
Juniper had seen that before. She'd done it herself, when she was trying to behave.
"It's not fair that you get to parade anyone you want and I have to grovel at your feet to even have a co-worker be around my child."
"That's not true," Tamara said.
"I don't want Tyler around this guy. But what I want doesn't seem to matter."
Graham put a hand at the small of Tamara's back. "You say Harley did nothing wrong, but we both know that's not true. Same goes for you. As for me, well, I actually didn't do anything. Hence the difference."
"I wasn't talking to you," Cullen said. "What he said was rude, unfair, and all I want is for my friend to come fishing with me and my boy."
Graham pulled Tamara closer, squeezing her hip. "It's been settled."
Juniper didn't like that.
She liked even less how tight both of Cullen's fists were.
Sterling stepped in, calm, a hand light on his friend's shoulder. "Let it go for now. You can discuss it tomorrow."
"I'll make it simple," Graham said. "Harley doesn't come near that boy. And honestly, mate? Neither should the drama." He tipped his head, almost apologetic. "If you can't keep things calm, you're going to make this real hard on yourself. That's not a threat. That's just where it's headed."
Cullen took a step. Just one. Sterling's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he didn't take a second.
"Tell your boss," Royce said, "if he wants the contract, that man goes.
" He pointed at Cullen the way you'd point at a horse that needed putting down.
"Otherwise, I've got other options." He pushed opened the door and waited for his son and Tamara to shuffle out.
"Good night." Then the door swung behind them.
"Motherfucking asshole." Cullen turned, kicked a chair, and marched off across the room.
Harley was one step behind him.
"Better a piece of furniture than one of them," Juniper mumbled.
"Agreed." Sterling inched closer, taking her into his arms. "But that's a volcano waiting to erupt, and I'm not always going to be around to stop it."
She patted his chest. "I think Cullen was in total control the entire time."
"Mostly. But he's not just fighting to see his son.
He's fighting for the woman he's falling in love with, and the woman he used to love.
He's terrified that Graham's gonna beat the shit out of Tamara, and I'm kinda with him on that one.
" Sterling cupped her face. "Not the most romantic of moments, but I really want to kiss you right now. "
"I'm not going to stop you." Instead of waiting, she raised up on tiptoe and leaned into him, pressing her lips against his mouth.
He tasted like warm honey, and she melted into his arms. The sounds of the Everglades faded in the distance. The assignment disappeared into the murky water. All that was left was this moment, and she wasn't going to let go. It was about the only real thing she had in the world.
Even if it was built on lies.