Chapter 4
Austin
Grannie’s was packed when I arrived late for Madi’s engagement party. Standing in the June evening sun, I scanned the crowd through the large glass windows lining the front of the coffee shop. I spotted Eva and Dalton talking to my cousin Jay and other men I recognized from my SSI file.
I didn’t let my gaze linger when I spotted the security camera above the door.
No surprise there. John had seen a lot of shit, and he’d protect his family at all costs.
Weatherford was bigger than Laurel Springs, but still had that small-town feel, so crime was low, but not nonexistent.
And crime always increases during the summer.
A bell jingled overhead as I walked into the coffee shop, and the welcoming scent of warm coffee his my nose.
It hasn’t changed a bit. That wasn’t entirely true; there were a lot more photos on the walls.
When I was a kid, my dad brought me here a lot.
Mary was the shop manager then, working with her grandmother.
My great grandmother, on my father’s side.
The bell usually made sneaking in under the radar impossible, but the din of the crowd talking above the country music playing in the background helped hide my entrance.
“Austin, it’s good to see you,” John greeted me with a handshake before pulling me into a hug.
“Good to see you too, sir.” I clapped his back.
“Please call me John.”
I’d stayed in touch with John over the years via email, and anytime I was in the area, I’d find time to visit him.
“Thanks.” Being men of few words, we caught up on recent life events with a few brief sentences.
“Madi’s over there, with her mother,” John said, pointing towards the counter where Madi stood with her fiancé, Matt, a bodyguard at SSI. He’d finished his private investigator training, but still needed a few more months of on-the-job training to get his license.
“Congratulations, Madi,” I said as I approached. After hugging Madi and Mary, I introduced myself to Matt. And acted like I didn’t know everything except his favorite color and how he took his coffee.
Matthew Robinson, born and raised in Colorado. Mom left them. Sister died young. Had trouble with the law but turned his life around while working on a ranch owned by a former SEAL. Didn’t leave BUDs to attend father’s funeral, but failed out shortly thereafter.
“Nice to meet you, Austin. Heard you’re a Navy guy.”
“Lieutenant Winchester, at your service.” Matt saluted. “But don’t hold that against me.”
Matt was a Chief Petty Officer when he left the Navy after a decade serving on his SEAL team. He’d have a healthy mix of respect and loathing for any officer not in his immediate command.
Before long, Jack and Jamie joined us. I listened to my cousins make small talk about the life events I knew about but hadn’t witnessed.
After a while, my cheeks hurt from the unnatural exercise of smiling so much.
Needing space, I headed for the men’s room.
Running my hands under cold water helped settle me. Knowing so much while pretending to know so little was exhausting.
You look old. I wanted to blame the harsh lighting in the bathroom, but the gray in my hair wasn’t a trick of the light. Nor were the creases near my eyes.
I dried my hands on soft paper towels, took a few deep breaths, and left to rejoin the fray.
Wondering if I’d stayed long enough for it to be socially acceptable to bail, I scanned the crowded room to see if there was anyone I hadn’t talked to as I rounded the corner into the dining room.
“Oof.”
Hot liquid burned my stomach and lower.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” the short woman in front of me cried out, staring at my wet shirt and pants.
I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away so she’d stop swiping at my clothes.
Her short, curly, dark hair blocked my view of her face.
The bright cherries on her pink dress were in stark contrast to my muted shades of gray and blue.
When she lifted her head, gorgeous dark blue eyes stared into mine.
Cherry earrings dangled from her ears. Her pink sundress had images of the same fruit.
“Are you okay, Cherry?” I asked as my eyes roamed over her short, curvy body.
She’s beautiful. Stop. She’s too young for you.
Her expressive blues opened even wider at my use of the nickname.
My thumbs slid across her soft, warm shoulders. I don’t want to let go.
Her hands clutched the now empty coffee cup, crushing it.
She squared her shoulders as she inhaled. “I’m fine,” she lied with a forced smile.
Nice recovery.
Only she couldn’t control the color in her cheeks that gave away her embarrassment and nervousness.
I wondered what else could make her blush.
What the fuck, Winchester? What’s gotten into you?
When I reluctantly dropped my hands, her smile faded.
“Are you okay?” Her hand brushed at the wet spot on my shirt. “I’m sorry I spilled my coffee on you. I’d be happy to pay for the cleaning bill.”
Her hands on my chest did stupid things to my body. Things I hadn’t felt in a long time. Things I didn’t want to feel with the beautiful, young, innocent woman in front of me.
“Don’t worry about it.” I all but barked while attempting to control my erratic emotions.
“No need to be so mean about it,” she huffed out, showing a strength I hadn’t anticipated.
“Nina, is everything okay?” John asked.
“I ran into,” she pointed at me, “Steel and spilled coffee on him.”
My abrupt laugh caught me off guard. “Steel?”
“Yeah, it felt like running into a steel wall when I bumped into you.”
And here I thought she’d be more timid.
“You should be more careful and watch where you’re going,” I said, the pot calling the kettle black.
“Hey,” John reminded me of my manners with a single word.
“Sorry. I’m glad you’re not hurt.” Pulling my pale gray button-up dress shirt away from my body, I said, “I need to go and, uh, get cleaned up.”
Fuck me. I was former naval intelligence and CIA—I didn’t do flustered.
I stole another glance at Nina, who smiled sheepishly before looking at the ground.
“Don’t worry about the cleaning bill, Cherry,” I said, wanting to put her at ease.
“Thank you,” she replied. And damn if the gratitude in her beautiful deep blue eyes didn’t sucker punch me.
Why does she seem so familiar? My memory was better than most, and my job required me to recognize names and faces, but I couldn’t place hers.
It didn’t matter. I’d seen her behind the counter, so she probably worked at Grannie’s. You’d think I’d know, but I’d stopped running background checks on Mary’s employees once I realized John was doing it.
Wanting to rush back to my hotel and run a background check on Nina, I made quick work of saying goodbye.