Chapter 4 #2
“I’m thirty-one years old, and I’ve lived pretty much all over the map.
I went into the Army right after high school, because it was either that or follow in my old man’s footsteps as a career criminal.
I became a Ranger three years later, took a few strolls through Iraq and Afghanistan, and now I’m back here stateside, freelancing security gigs, most of them with private companies who need extra hands.
Were there any other details you wanted, or did I hit the highlights for you? ”
Her wide-eyed expression combined with her stunned silence to punch holes in Devon’s gut, and Jesus Christ, he was an ass.
And he hadn’t even let loose the part where he’d foolishly let himself get taken hostage on an ambush, not to mention how her brother had risked his life to save Devon’s about three nanoseconds before a rogue insurgent buried a bullet in both of their gray matter.
Devon opened his mouth for a sloppy retraction, but Kylie beat him to the one-two. “No, that’s pretty good, actually.”
“What about you?” he asked, even as his better judgment howled at him to stand down and shut up. But at least talking about her would be better than opening his yap about the not-so-good old days.
“Me? I’m pretty much an open book, I guess. Kellan and I don’t have much by way of family, but he’s six years older than me, so he does the protective thing a lot.”
Devon’s brows climbed upward. “You’re only twenty-five?”
Kellan had never mentioned the age gap between him and Kylie, and she was tenacious enough that Devon never would’ve guessed it was more than a year or two.
“Yeah, but I’ve been pretty much on my own since Kellan went into the Army.
After high school, I did a semester at community college, took some cooking classes.
” She shrugged, although the rise and fall of her shoulders was just a hair too stiff to carry genuine nonchalance.
“I like to cook and I’m pretty good at it, but jobs in the front of the house are easier to get, so I just bounced around, working as a hostess and waiting tables and tending bar. That kind of thing.”
“Why stick to waiting tables if what you really want is to be in the kitchen, cooking?” It was a flyer, but Kylie’s chin lifted ever so slightly, and bingo. Devon hit pay dirt.
“Money, mostly. I never had enough to go to culinary school,” she murmured, although her tone said that whatever made up the rest of the reason was responsible for the tension suddenly triple-knotting her muscles against the passenger seat.
“Anyway, that’s why I left California last year.
I had a bad breakup, lost my job. I wasn’t going to find another one if I stuck around, not to mention having nothing to stick around for.
So, I headed as far east as I could until I ran out of cash, and that’s how I ended up in Wyoming. ”
Devon’s head buzzed with so many questions that choosing one to put to words was a tall order. “California’s huge. Losing your job sucks, but how is it that you couldn’t find another one nearby?” There had to be hundreds of restaurant gigs, even in California’s smaller cities and towns.
Kylie laughed, although there was zero humor in the soft huff of her breath.
“Let’s just say when you’re a better cook than your ‘chef’ boyfriend”—she paused to pin the word with an air quote/eye roll combo—“and your interview for the open kitchen position at the café where you both work puts that fact on display? Egos get bruised like summer fruit.”
“That explains the breakup.” Well, that and the fact that her ex sounded like a gold star member of the Dickhead of the Month club. “But if you were a better cook, how come you didn’t get the job?” Devon asked.
“Because my ex was better in the bedroom than the kitchen. He slept with the restaurant manager and convinced her I was power hungry and that I’d be a monster in the kitchen.
She fired me, and restaurant circles are more like rumor mills.
My résumé was pretty much Swiss cheese at that point anyway, so…
” Kylie shrugged, but Devon filled in the blank.
“You took off.” Something else she’d said tugged at the back of his mind, and before he could haul the question back, he asked, “You said you got as far as Wyoming. Where were you headed?”
Kylie paused, although her expression remained tough. “I haven’t been to the East Coast in a while. I thought it might be cool to go see Kellan.”
“See him? Or live in NC?”
“Whichever,” she said, but the word came out with way less indifference than he’d bet she intended to stick to it.
“Why didn’t you tell your brother you wanted to move to Remington?” Hell, he’d bet Kellan would’ve moved a mountain range to bring Kylie closer to him if he’d known that was what she wanted. They were family.
“Because I’m a big girl,” she said, just as matter-of-factly as if she were telling him she had blue eyes or that the earth was round and not as flat as a two-by-four.
“I was stuck in California of my own doing, and that’s exactly how I was going to get out.
I might move around a bunch, and sometimes I fly by the seat of my pants, but I can still take care of myself.
” Her gaze shot out the window as she tacked on, “Most of the time, anyway.”
Devon opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to be so tough.
The last thing either of them needed was for her to pull another stunt like the Maglite stickup she’d tried last night in the motel parking lot, and just because Kylie was fierce didn’t mean she was bulletproof.
But then, she turned to grab her sunglasses out of her purse, and the look on her face slapped him right in the solar plexus.
She might rather stick a pin in her eye than admit it, but she was barely hanging on. Which meant they needed to stop and get some supplies and real shuteye ASAP.
Because not only had Devon been in those exact same shoes four years ago, but if he didn’t regroup and get his shit together, he was liable to do something galactically stupid.
Like tell Kylie he knew just how she felt.