Chapter 3
Everly shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing her sleep-clouded eyes, and pulled a bag of ground coffee out of the cabinet.
It felt entirely too lightweight, and she groaned and peeked inside.
Sure enough, it was empty. She remembered belatedly that coffee was on the list for the grocery run that had never happened yesterday.
“Why did I put an empty coffee bag back in the cabinet?” she asked Posie, who meowed and rubbed her face against Everly’s ankle.
She reached into the cabinet again. “Good news, we still have plenty of cat food.” She peeled the top off of a can and dumped it into a bowl, then set it down and watched with a smile as Posie stormed it as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
The floor above her creaked, and her heart lifted as Grant made his way down the stairs.
How long had it been since she’d woken up with another person in the house?
She hadn’t had guests since Jeremy’s death, and Grant’s presence had been just what she needed last night to distract her.
She was almost sad that he had to leave today.
That there wasn’t a reason for him to stay another night.
“Morning.” He appeared from around the corner and greeted her with a smile.
His duffel bag landed by the dining table with a heavy thud , and something hitched inside her.
Duffel bags—bug-out bags, a lot of the guys called them—had always signaled a departure in one way or another.
Whether it was for training or a mission, their appearance meant goodbye was imminent.
Everly wasn’t ready for goodbye. Not yet. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she blurted out an idea on impulse. “Hey.” She held up the empty bag. “I just realized I’m out of coffee. Wanna hit up the Rise & Shine before you leave town?”
Grant’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely. I can’t believe I almost forgot about that place. I was just going to grab a gas station coffee on the road.”
“How could you forget about STAG’s most favorite breakfast joint in the world?” she teased. She glanced at the clock. “We’ll be just in time for the famous Sunday brunch, too.”
“Even better,” Grant replied. He picked up his bag and pulled his keys from his pocket. “You can just ride with me, if you want. I’m parked behind you, and I’ll have to double back to hit the interstate anyway.”
“Sounds good. Better if I don’t drive before I’ve had my coffee.” Everly glanced down at her worn t-shirt and leggings that were coated with cat hair below the knees. “Let me change clothes, then I’ll be ready.”
“I think you look nice.”
“You’re sweet. But I’d feel better in something a bit less…lived-in,” she told him. “Be right back.” She took the stairs two at a time and then hurried to her bedroom closet, flipping through the hangers to find a presentable outfit.
Something Grant will like.
Hangers scraped along the rack as she sorted through clothes she hadn’t worn in months. She did not care whether Grant liked her outfit, she corrected herself. She just wanted to look presentable for breakfast with an old friend. Nothing more.
At the end of the row, she finally found what she was looking for: a silky-soft black blouse and matching joggers that she’d bought last year and only tried on once.
Moving quickly, she tossed her old clothes in the hamper and changed into the new outfit, then buckled on a pair of strappy sandals from her shoe organizer.
She ducked into the bathroom to run a brush through her hair and applied some mascara on a whim.
A pair of silver hoops, long-abandoned on the counter, caught her eye, and she threaded them through her ears and glanced at herself in the mirror.
She looked…relaxed. Pretty. And she definitely wasn’t worried about whether Grant agreed.
“Ready!” Everly called as she descended the steps.
She rounded the corner and grabbed her bag, then gave Posie a goodbye scratch.
Grant shouldered his own bag again, and they headed out the front door.
Everly was silently thankful that their goodbye was delayed for just a little longer, even as she told herself the warmth in her chest meant nothing at all.
◆◆◆
“Damn, I missed this,” Grant said as the waitress slid a massive plate of french toast, bacon, and eggs in front of him.
Everly took a bite of her stack of pancakes.
“Me too. I haven’t been here in ages.” She stirred half & half into her second cup of coffee and watched as he practically inhaled his breakfast. She knew from experience how active these guys were — anything they ate just melted right off.
STAG had to be in great shape to do what they did every day.
And Grant was no exception. She’d almost forgotten how handsome he was.
Almost. His sandy brown hair was cut close, but not as severe as a regular military haircut.
STAG was supposed to blend in, so they bent the rules sometimes.
He wore a dark green henley that clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted biceps.
She wondered what those arms would feel like around her.
Don’t go there. He’s leaving after this, and you’ll never see him again.
A sudden ding pulled her from her thoughts.
Grant set his fork down and fished his phone out of his pocket.
His eyebrows lifted as he read the screen.
“It’s Evan. He just finished running those phone numbers.
Looks like they’re all burners.” He scrolled a bit further.
“There’s no record of a business called DropKom, either.
” He tapped out a swift reply and laid his phone on the table.
“Looks like it really is just a scam. Probably somebody trying to make a quick buck off of a grieving family member. There’s a lot of pathetic people out there. ”
Everly nodded, processing the information. “I’ll still take everything to legal tomorrow. Just in case there’s something they can do to help stop the harassment.”
“Good idea,” Grant replied. “I’ll text you this week to check in.” He paused and then lifted his gaze to hers. “Will you answer?”
Everly took a deep breath and sipped from her coffee, drawing comfort from its warmth.
She probably deserved that remark. And Grant deserved an honest answer.
“Yes. I promise. Grant, I—” she sighed and knotted her hands in her lap.
“I kind of…fell apart after Jeremy died. I held it together while there were decisions to make and family to host. But after a couple of weeks, when the chaos had subsided, I just…broke. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.
It was like I laid down on the couch one day and just couldn’t get up. ”
Grant nodded, and she was encouraged to continue.
“I didn’t have the mental or emotional bandwidth to respond to calls or texts.
Not even messages from potential clients.
My business tanked.” She drew a shaky breath.
“I saw your texts and I know you tried to call, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ignored you.”
Grant shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I should have known something was wrong when I didn’t hear from you at all. I guess I convinced myself that you wanted to be left alone and move on. I should have driven back here months ago.”
He paused as a waitress came by to refill their coffee and then continued, his steady gaze anchoring Everly and soothing her nerves. “Did you have anyone with you? Your parents?”
She grimaced. “I haven’t seen them since the day after the funeral.
Support has never been their strong suit.
” She traced a finger around the rim of her water glass.
Her lonely upbringing was a story for another day.
“But Colonel Lockhart stopped by unannounced one day to check up on me. Took one look at me and somehow managed to arrange an urgent appointment with a psychiatrist. Dr. Schafer.”
“Lockhart did that?” Grant sounded impressed. “He never said a word to any of us. But I doubt he makes a habit out of telling others’ private business.”
Everly smiled. “I’m so thankful he advocated for me.
I hate to think about where I’d be if he hadn’t…
therapy literally saved my life.” She picked at her food that was quickly growing cold.
“Of course, things are far from perfect. And I’ll never be the same person I was,” she sighed.
“But I’m up. I’m volunteering at the shelter. I adopted a pet. It’s progress.”
“Pretty impressive progress, if you ask me.” Grant leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Next time I see the colonel, I might have to kiss him for swooping in and getting you to the doctor. Even if he makes me do pushups for a week straight.”
Everly laughed, and relief washed over her.
Some small part of her had been afraid that Grant would judge her if he knew how badly she’d struggled after Jeremy’s death.
Only her psychiatrist knew the entire truth, but it felt good to share part of the story with someone else.
Someone who knew her from before her life had changed forever.
“I can do pushups now, too. Not for a week straight, though,” she told him.
“Dr. Schafer convinced me to give exercise a shot. It’s been a great stress-buster.
And surprise, surprise, ever since I strengthened my core muscles, my back doesn’t hurt anymore.
Very handy for hauling Posie’s chunky butt around,” she laughed.
Grant didn’t answer right away. He was looking at her, but his eyes seemed far away, his gaze making its way across her body—the parts that weren’t blocked by the table, anyway.
Heat blazed in her cheeks. Is he checking me out?
A small spark ignited deep in her belly, a spark of something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.