by A. M. Myers
She shrugs. “Just imagine how happy you’ll be when you have that little baby in your arms.”
“Hold up. I thought I was just thinking about it and now I’m picturing my fictional future baby?”
Looping her arm through mine, she guides me to the corner of the ballroom where we can stay out of the way while we talk and snap candid photos. “Yes. Visualization is an essential part of destiny manifestation.”
“I said I’ll think about it, Edie. Don’t push your luck.”
“Okay, fine.” She laughs. “But in all seriousness, I don’t want you to think you’re doing this alone. If you decide to go down this road, you’ll have Lillian and me in your corner. Always.”
I nod, my chest aching at the thought of having a baby on my own. Not because I think I couldn’t do it or because I know it will be hard but because anytime I ever pictured my baby in the past, he always had Wyatt’s hazel eyes and I’m not sure if that is an image I can let go of.
Chapter Three
Wyatt
“How many?” the cute blonde hostess asks as Smith and I walk into the homey little Italian restaurant that our client’s father owns and I hold up two fingers as I scan what I can see of the dining room. She grabs the menus and instructs us to follow her as she turns and walks further into the restaurant. After leading us to a table situated along the front windows that gives us a perfect view into the bustling kitchen, I flash her a smile of thanks as I slide into my seat and Smith sits across from me. She briefly runs over the day’s specials as she lays our menus in front of us.
“Can I get you two started with a drink? A beer, maybe?”
I shake my head. “Just water.”
“I’ll take a beer,” Smith answers and she nods.
“Okay. I’ll be right back with those and your waitress will be with you in just a moment.”
As she turns and leaves, I scan the dining room, searching for the subject of our investigation but he is nowhere to be found. Sighing, I turn toward my menu and flip it open. When our client, Marina, came to us a couple weeks ago to ask for our help, she told us that her father has owned this restaurant for damn near forty years but as he got older, it was harder for him to keep up so he took on a partner to ease the workload. The only problem is, Marina has been hearing from the other staff that the partner, Ben, is a sleaze ball and running this place into the ground but she needs rock solid proof to try and force Ben out which is where we come in.
“I’ll tell ya, brother,” Smith says, engrossed in his menu. “I’ve definitely been on worse stakeouts.”
I snort out a half laugh. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“What’s your deal lately?” he asks, glancing up from his menu with a knitted brow. I shake my head.
“I don’t have a deal.”
“Bullshit. I mean, you’re usually pretty serious but you’re not this damn grouchy. What the hell is going on?”
I run my hand through my hair. “Just worried about the club and the girls.”
“Ah,” he whispers, nodding his head before he turns to look out at the dining room. “I don’t know, man. I don’t want to believe that you’re right but I’m not ready to proclaim that you’re wrong either. Plus, that shit you said at church about it being someone we love next, well… I can’t get that shit out of my head and with Quinn pregnant…”
“I never got a chance to say congratulations, by the way.”
He nods, studying me. “Yeah, you bailed pretty quick after my announcement…”
“Yeah, I did.”
“That’s all I’m going to get?” he asks, irritation creeping into his tone. “I mean, you know that I know that it’s bullshit, right?”
I arch a brow. “That your new favorite word?”
“Bullshit?” he questions and I nod. “Only when I smell the overwhelming scent of bullshit like right now.”
“You can’t smell anything but lasagna and garlic bread.”
His stomach growls and his gaze flicks to the kitchen before he turns back to me. “I really wish I could smell that cause it sounds amazing but I’m like drowning in bullshit right now so…”
“Jesus Christ, you’re not going to stop, are you?”
Grinning, he shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Fine,” I growl before my body deflates and I sigh. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately with all of you settling down and starting families.”
“You want the same?”
I nod. “Yeah, I do.”
“So, do it. What the hell is holding you back?”
An image of Piper pops into my mind, her smokey green eyes boring into mine and asking me the same damn question.
“Shit…” Smith breathes and I meet his gaze as he looks up at me. “What’s her name?”
“What?”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that, Fuzz. Your fucking face says it all. There’s a woman and she’s got you by the balls.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, flashing me a look that makes it clear he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. “You know what… I’m picking up on that scent again.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble as a petite little thing stops by our table with a pen and pad in her hand.
“Hey, boys. I’m Kenzie and I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you to drink?”
“Uh,” I mutter, glancing back at the hostess who is playing on her phone by the front door. “We ordered a water and a beer already.”
She follows my gaze and whispers a curse. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back with those, okay?”
“Sure.”
As she stomps off, I turn back to Smith who flashes me an expectant look. “So, what’s her name?”
“Go fuck yourself, that’s her name. Why don’t you focus less on me and more on the case?”
“The way I see it,” he replies, leaning back in his chair. “I can do both. Now, what’s her name?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a goddamn pain in the ass?” I ask and he laughs.
“Yeah, it’s part of my appeal.”
I shake my head. “I doubt it.”
“Name, please,” he repeats with a shrug and my irritation grows. It’s clear that he is not going to let this go and I would much rather get it out there and move on with my damn life.
“For fuck’s sake. It’s Piper, my ex-wife.”
“Oh,” he whispers, nodding. “The one who cheated on you when you were deployed and then left you?”
Gritting my teeth, I nod. “That’s the one.”
“Hold up,” he demands, holding his hand up in front of him. “Why the hell does your ex-wife still have you by the balls?”
“Just forget about it, Smith.”
He studies me for a second before his eyes widen. “Are you still in love with her?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I snap as the waitress stops at our table with our drinks and I am thankful for the interruption.
“Here you guys go. I’m so sorry about the mix-up. Who had the beer?”
Smith raises his hand and she sets the bottle down in front of him before setting my glass of water on the table by me and wiping her hands on her apron. She pulls the pen and pad out again and flashes us a bright smile.
“Okay. Y’all know what you want to order?”
Smith nods. “Yeah, I’ll get the lasagna.”
“Okay,” she answers, scribbling his order down before turning to me. “And you, sir?”
“Chicken Alfredo.”
Smiling, she writes my order down on her notepad before scooping up our menus and turning toward the kitchen. When I turn back to Smith, he looks like he wants to delve deeper into our conversation but I shoot him a warning look and he rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Relieved, I scan the dining room again, searching for our subject as I try to push thoughts of my least favorite person in the world out of my mind but even after all these years, she’s fucking rel
entless. Like a parasite that no amount of medicine can kill.
“So…” Smith starts and I shake my head, flashing him a look that makes it clear I’m done talking about this. He sighs as he leans back in his chair. “Dude, come on. How long has it been since she left?”
“This conversation is over.” I don’t want to think about how long it’s been since Piper destroyed everything we had and walked away from me or how empty my life has felt in the years since. She doesn’t matter to me anymore. Someone walks out of the kitchen and I glance over before nudging Smith’s foot with mine. “Look who finally decided to show up.”
Ben Girouard walks toward the register and smacks our waitress on the ass as he passes by her. Hatred burns in her eyes as she glares at him and I shake my head.
“What a pig,” Smith growls and I nod.
“I know but we need something concrete.”
Smith nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket, pretending to be playing a game as he begins recording Ben. We both watch him as he strolls right up to the register and opens it before pulling a couple of twenties out and shoving them in his pocket.
“Did Marina say anything about missing money?” Smith asks and I shake my head, disgust twisting my stomach as Ben shuts the register and starts walking toward the hostess who seated us.
“No, but she may not know.”
He nods. “We need to get Streak to dig into the restaurant’s finances.”
“Not that there will be much to dig into,” I reply, scanning the almost empty dining room. “My parents used to come here for their anniversary every year and they had to make a reservation like a month in advance. They said it had gone downhill but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
The waitress walks out of the kitchen with a tray in her hand and Smith sits forward, tucking his phone away.
“Well, let’s see how the food is.”
“Here you boys go,” the waitress says as she stops at our table and sets a plate in front of each of us. “Can I get y’all anything else?”
Smith smiles up at her. “I think we’re good for now, darlin’.”
“Just holler if you need me,” she replies with a blush staining her cheeks and I nod as she turns and walks back to the counter. By the time I glance back at Smith, he’s already shoving a huge piece of lasagna into his mouth and I sit back with an arched brow to see his reaction. He chews for a second before his face contorts with disgust and I laugh. To his credit, he doesn’t spit it out but once he has forced the first bite down, he doesn’t take a second.
“That’s fucking terrible,” he whispers and I nod, combing through the noodles on my plate that look like they were cooked a week ago.
“Yeah, we should get pictures of this shit, too.”
He nods as he pulls his phone out again and starts snapping pictures of the food. “I gotta tell ya…”
His words are cut off by a crash from the kitchen and we both turn as Ben slaps one of the waitresses across the face. I’m out of my chair before I even realize what I’m doing but I don’t get far before Smith grabs my arm.
“Sit down, brother,” he hisses, his gaze flicking around the room and I do the same, deflating when I see the two other tables brave enough to risk lunch here, watching me. “We have to keep a low profile.”
I stare at him for a second before shaking him off. Everything he says is true but I also can’t let something like that just happen and not do anything. After charging across the dining room, I step into the kitchen and Ben turns to look at me. The man is a little pissant and I mean that literally since he just barely reaches the top of my chest as I glare at him. My gaze flicks to the blonde he hit.
“You okay, darlin’?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“You feel safe enough to stay here?”
“I…” Her gaze flicks to Ben and I notice her hands shaking before she turns back to me with resolve in her gaze. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Guess what…” I say, turning back to Ben with my skin on fire and my fingers itching to wrap around his throat. I pretend to glance down at his name tag. “…Ben. You just made a new best friend.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I take a step forward and flash him a menacing smile. “It means I’m going to be back here every goddamn day and if I ever see you put your hands on another woman, I’ll show you how it feels. Are we clear?”
“You think I’m afraid of you?” he sneers, crossing his arms and I glance around the kitchen as the three cooks and dishwasher look on with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Fuck this little shit, thinking he’s a badass and hitting the women who work for him. Before he even realizes what’s happening, I sweep his legs out from under him, flip him on his stomach, and shove my knee against his spine as he screams.
“What was that, Ben?”
“Okay, okay. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re fucking right, it won’t.” I release him and stand back as he lumbers to his feet. As he backs away from me, I wave and flash him another grin. “See you tomorrow, Benjamin.”
“Jesus, dude,” Smith says as I get back to the table and sink into my seat. I shrug.
“What? I couldn’t let him get away with that. Besides, I just gave us the perfect cover for coming back here every day.”
He shakes his head. “Where the hell did you learn that move and can you show me how to do it?”
“The Marines and no,” I answer with a laugh, feeling lighter than I did when we first arrived. My phone pings from my pocket and I pull it out, frowning when I see the notification from the dating app I signed up for.
“Everything okay?”
I glance up and nod before shoving the phone back in my pocket. I can’t believe I actually signed up for that stupid thing and that I still haven’t deleted it. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” he asks, his face knitted in concern. I sigh.
“I drank too much the other night and signed up for a goddamn dating site.”
He grins and leans forward. “Did you now? Any luck?”
“No,” I lie, thinking of the message from a woman named Shiloh I just got. He laughs.
“You fucking liar.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter cause it was a dumbass idea and I’m not going to go through with it.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause like I said, it was just a dumb idea that sounded good after a few too many beers.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning back again. “But you just said you wanted the wife and the family and all that, right?”
I nod.
“So, you’re never going to find it if you don’t try.”
I roll my eyes. “Like you tried? Or Storm? Or Kodiak? You all met your wives because of luck.”
“Dude, just give it a shot. There’s a coffee shop literally right across the street,” he says, pointing out the window and I glance over my shoulder, eyeing the little cafe. “Just pop over there and get coffee with her. It’s like thirty minutes out of your day.”
I flash him a glare. “Just let it go.”
“No. I’m serious. Give it a shot. Maybe she’s the one.”
“You sound like a goddamn girl right now, you know that?”
He shrugs. “All I hear you saying is that you’re scared and maybe you should shut up and listen to me cause I know how good it is on the other side of that mountain you’re too afraid to cross.”
Motherfucker.
I want to come back with a snappy remark but his words hit a target I didn’t even realize I’d put up and I sigh as I lean back in my chair and fiddle with the silverware next to my plate. Jesus Christ, what the hell am I doing? I’m thirty years old and I’ve been single for the last ten goddamn years because of one dishonest woman.
“You’re an asshole,” I growl as I pull my phone out of my pocket and he laughs.
“I’m okay with that.”
Ignoring him, I pull up the message from Shiloh.
<
br /> Shiloh062:
Hey, handsome ;)
I’d love to get to know you more.
Are you free soon to go out?
WyattL23:
I’m free right now, actually.
Want to grab a cup of coffee?
“So…” Smith asks, leaning across the table to try and see my phone as I move it away from his gaze. “What did she say?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Aw, come on. Let me see the fruits of my labor.”
My phone buzzes with a notification and I scoop it up as I shake my head. There’s no way in hell I’m giving him the satisfaction of this. “No.”
Shiloh062:
I’d love to.
Just tell me where.
I send her the name and address of the cafe across the street and she replies back right away, telling me she’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Setting my phone back down on the table, I run my hands through my hair as my knee bounces. Smith smirks.
“Jesus, dude. You look like you’re about to shit a brick.”
I pin him with a glare. “Shut the fuck up. I’m going on this damn date, aren’t I?”
“When is she going to be here?” he asks, grabbing his fork and cutting off another piece of lasagna. I watch in fascination as he shoves the bite in his mouth and chews for a second before making a face and spitting it out on his plate. “Fuck! I forgot how bad that was.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“It’s not my fault, man. It’s sitting in front of me, looking and smelling like lasagna and I’m so fucking hungry that my brain blocked out how bad it is. Now, answer the question.”
I scowl. “What question are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what question I’m talking about. When is she going to be here?”
Rolling my eyes, I glance down at my watch. “Ten minutes.”
“And just to give me an idea of how screwed you are, when was the last time you went on an actual date?”
“Fuck you,” I spit, crossing my arms over my chest as I turn to look out the window. It pisses me the fuck off but he’s right. The last time I went on a real life date was when I was married to Piper, before I deployed and my whole world collapsed. Since then, if I did hook up with a girl, it was always casual, something just to fulfill a need and dating was never required.