Unexpected Trouble (The Unexpected Series Book 3)

by Stacy Eaton

“Yep, I’m totally game. I have been dying to try out one of those speed dating things for months.”

  “It will be great for my next series,” I told her.

  “How is the current one going?” she asked as I stepped into the coffee shop and tried not to sigh at the long line in front of me. The only benefit to the line was getting the chance to check out the sweet buns in front of me, and I wasn’t talking about the ones in the glass display case. I glanced from the man’s feet, up his long legs covered in black slacks, to his thick waist and wide back, pausing at the neatly trimmed brown hair on the back of his head.

  The guy had to be a cop, or something, with the way he was dressed and the way he stood. I’d dated a cop a few times, and it hadn’t gone over very well. He was too damn macho for me and thought I should be doing cushy things in an office, not trying to dig through the news for a story with grit. I sure as hell didn’t want to be a romance advice columnist for the rest of my life. Hell no! No wonder Babs had kicked the bucket!

  “Jeff is still pissed that I broke it down into segments, but he needs to get over it. If I’m going to help this column grow to be something serious, then he needs to give me some space.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the man spin around on me. “Would you mind watching your bag, please?”

  I turned to snap an apology, and my jaw dropped as I stared into the deep blue eyes of my first love. Holy crap!

  “Greg? Heather, I need to call you back.” I hit end call without a second thought. “Gregory Blaire, what are you doing here?”

  Oh man, the sight of him had shivers tearing all the way down to my toes, then reverberated right back up to my scalp. He looked incredible, and his voice was just as sexy as it had been back when we were teens. The memory of him whispering in my ear the first time we had sex—my first time ever—that he would love me until the day I died, flashed into my mind. Not that I would mention that, nope. I wasn’t going to point out to him that he had lied. That he had broken my heart when he enlisted in the Marines two weeks later and that when he found out he was leaving for overseas a year after that, he’d broken up with me. I’d cried for a month, and then I’d finished high school, gone off to college, and went about my life.

  It was hard to believe that I hadn’t seen this man in nineteen years, and I was ready to drag him into the tiny restroom in the back and do dirty things to him. He might be impressed that I had learned a few things over the years. I was no longer that shy teen.

  Nope, now I was a woman who took romance by the balls—I could say that, right? Of course, I could. I was a contemporary woman in charge of her life and in control of her sexual needs. We shuffled toward the cashier, chatting about inconsequential things, and I was dying to ask if he was single or dating or married, or maybe he was gay now. Who knew!

  We reached the cashier, and he handed over the card with the coffee orders on it and then added a few more. I didn’t think he’d mind throwing one more on there; I mean he did owe me at least that for breaking my tender teenaged heart—right?

  I leaned toward him, waiting for him to say something as I inhaled his subtle aftershave. Oh, Lord, it made me want to rub my face all over his neck and chin so that I’d have something to enjoy for the next few hours. With a scent like that, I could write some rip-roaring romance articles.

  Greg’s gaze drifted to my mouth; would kissing him be as incredible as it had been in the past? Did he remember how incredible our kisses had been? I sure did. I had measured every kiss I had ever gotten from other men to his, and I had learned that he had ruined me for most men. Uh, there was my time with Ben, but that was so long ago it didn’t count anymore.

  I was about to open my mouth and ask him what he was doing tonight when things got a little crazy behind me, and before I could figure out what was going on, I was standing behind Greg. People were screaming, and a gunshot made me flinch like every other person in the room. Well, everyone but Greg, that is. He seemed to grow taller, rather than make himself smaller, and I cozied up to his back beside the pregnant woman who had been right behind us.

  “Everyone get down on the floor!” a man shouted, and I peered around Greg to see a man in a green army fatigue jacket wearing a black ski mask that covered all of his face, except his eyes. Was that the guy that had cut me off on the sidewalk a few minutes ago? It had to be. Whoops! Did he know that I was the one that had removed their car keys? Did they see me get into their car and think that I still had them? Had they come over here to get them back? Holy crap! Had they come here for me?

  “Get down!” the second man wearing a black jacket and matching mask shouted, his voice sounding slightly shaky, and he looked around frantically.

  Green jacket guy turned the lock on the coffee shop door and pointed a gun at someone. “Close the shades on the front window.” The woman had been going to her knees, and she jerked back up, shaking as she sobbed and moved to the window to do as he asked.

  I helped the pregnant woman to the ground. “How far along are you?”

  “Eight months,” she whispered.

  I helped the woman shift so that her back was resting against the counter behind us. Greg squatted down and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Without even looking at it, he started fiddling with it.

  “Get their phones,” green jacket guy snapped at black jacket man, and he nodded before he started coming around and collecting the phones. Greg’s screen went dark right before the guy reached him, and he hesitated as he stared up at the guy.

  “Give me your phone!” the guy said, and Greg’s chin went up higher like he was challenging him. Was he crazy? Black jacket guy seemed confused that Greg wasn’t doing as he asked and frowned. “I said, give me your phone.”

  Green jacket guy appeared at his side, his gun pointed at Greg’s head, and my stomach turned upside down. “Give him your phone, now!”

  Greg held the phone out, and the man snatched it. “Don’t be a fucking hero here, you got it? I’ll put a bullet in you before you could even see it coming.”

  Greg didn’t say a word, and outside sirens approached the area. Black jacket man peeked around one of the window shades that were in place now. “The cops are here! What are we gonna do, Len?”

  “Shut up, you fucking idiot!” green jacket man snapped. “Of course the cops are here! We just robbed a jewelry store. Did you think they would just let us go?”

  “Let’s just go out the back door. Can’t we do that?”

  “No, they will have cops everywhere,” he said. “We are staying here where we have hostages.”

  “You aren’t going to kill them, are you?” Black jacket man looked around, his eyes wide.

  “I’m not going to kill them as long as they don’t do something stupid.”

  Greg glanced back at me, lifted a brow at me as if to ask if I were alright, and I nodded slightly to him. He glanced at the pregnant woman’s face, her belly, and then sighed as he turned back to the two men.

  The woman was rubbing her stomach, and I squeezed her arm. “Are you doing okay?”

  The woman nodded as Len turned toward me. “Shut up!” He came toward us with long strides, and Greg tensed. “There is no talking; you got that, lady!”

  “I was just checking on her,” I said, and Greg put his hand behind his back on my ankle. Was he trying to tell me to shut up too?

  The guy pointed the gun at me, and I cringed, every muscle in my body tensing in fear. The guy glanced at the woman beside me, frowned at her swollen stomach, and then growled at me, “Shut up, woman!”

  I swallowed the retort I wanted to lash out at him. Holy crap, I’d never had a gun pointed at me before, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have a panic attack or go all sorts of female hysterical on him.

  More sirens filled the air, and you could hear people yelling outside. Greg shifted slowly backward, and I scooted to the side so he could slide in between the pregnant woman and me. I saw him looking at the
mother-to-be, and then he took hold of her hand and squeezed for a moment.

  He sat with his leg straight out in front of him, his hands flat on his thighs. I leaned slightly toward him as the two men talked in a whisper at the side of the room. Everyone was quiet, nervously looking around at each other as if searching for someone who would end this situation. Strangely, most of the people kept bringing their attention back to Greg. Did they all think he was a cop like I had once thought?

  He had that look about him, but I guess after twenty years in the military, he would have that look. Greg was watching them through his lashes, and I wished that I had a window into his brain. I would love to see what he was thinking right now, what he was planning. What had he done on his phone before they had taken it? I was dying to ask but knew that now was not the time.

  The guy in the black jacket kept looking at me, and it was making me nervous. Suddenly, his mouth dropped. “I know who you are!” Greg tensed beside me as I shifted as far back against the counter as I could.

  Oh, my god! He knew that I’d seen them without masks! They knew I was the one that had removed their car keys. Would they kill me now? I was ready to jump to my feet and apologize for taking the keys out. If I had just left it alone, they would be long gone. This was all my fault! If anyone died, it was going to be my fault! I was ready to hyperventilate.

  The black jacket guy stared down at me from a few feet away, his blue eyes bright behind the black mask. “You’re that lady that writes about romance! My girlfriend loves you; what’s your name? Something Valor, right?”

  I wanted to melt into the floor. He knew me from the paper, not the sidewalk. Holy smokes. Len, his very angry cohort, came to stand next to him. He opened his mouth to talk, but just then a loudspeaker called out from the street, and he dismissed me.

  Chapter Three

  Gregory

  Before shit could get too out of control, I pulled my cellphone out and sent a message to the last person I’d spoken too. Luckily, that was Trevor. In my training, I’d learned how to send messages without looking at the keyboard too much. The one I sent Trevor was: in deep, 911, java, listen.

  Hopefully, he would figure it out quickly that there was trouble at the coffee shop. I was pretty sure that by now, Trevor and Alex were already on the street watching what was going down and letting the cops listen to the open line I had given them.

  I had no trouble figuring out who the boss was on this job. The guy in black was probably Len’s lackey, possibly a relative he didn’t think highly of. What had gone wrong with their plan? If they had robbed the jewelry store, why hadn’t they taken off? What had stopped them? Was there a cop on the street when they came out?

  It didn’t make sense to leave a robbery and move into a hostage situation. Sometimes they went hand in hand, but you sure as shit didn’t do a robbery and then change locations to take hostages if you could get away. It didn’t make sense.

  Len was frustrated and trigger-happy. He’d already let loose one in the building. I did not doubt that if something happened in here, he’d pop off another shot. I just hoped that it didn’t hurt anyone when he did.

  When Len had pointed the gun at my head, I’d almost laughed and said go ahead. I mean, it would be fucking ironic to make it through six tours overseas in war zones to die in a coffee shop picking up half a dozen foo-foo coffees. This wasn’t the first time I’d had a gun pointed at my head—probably wouldn’t be the last either—so I just rolled with it.

  What I didn’t want to roll with was the asswipe aiming his loaded weapon at Maggie. Oh, fuck, no! That almost put me over the top. I wanted to get in his evil-looking grill and knock the shit out of him. I didn’t, though. I kept my cool until the lackey came toward her again, his voice tinged with excitement that I wasn’t sure was good or bad.

  I felt her fear blast from her body as she tried to back away from him, and I wished I could have blocked her somehow. Even though she had her chin up and she was staring him down, I knew she was afraid. I knew Mags well. I might not have seen her in years, but that expression was one that I remembered all too well.

  I had been nineteen and about to leave for overseas. I cared a lot for Maggie, and yeah, I loved her. I was two years older than her, and we’d been together since she was a freshman in high school. Even though I cared about her, I just couldn’t ask her to put her life on hold for me. I knew I wasn’t ready for a serious commitment like marriage, and neither was she.

  I had been getting ready to head into a war zone and fight for freedom. Maggie was going to finish high school, go to football games, dances, hang out with friends, and take advantage of the freedom that we fought for.

  The day I’d come to say goodbye, she had looked up at me with that same look. There was fear in her eyes for my safety, and anger for what I was doing. That was an image that had never faded in my memory.

  There had also been something else in her eyes that day—love and pain—and I knew I hurt her. I hurt myself, too, but I knew it was the right thing to do. One day she would understand—or so I hoped. How long had it taken her to realize why I had broken it off?

  The guy in the black jacket kept looking at Maggie, and she was squirming under his scrutiny. He approached her, and his words were a punch to the gut. “I know who you are!”

  Ah, shit! Maggie pushed herself back as far as she could.

  “You’re that lady that writes about romance! My girlfriend loves you; what’s your name? Something Valor, right?” What was he going to do? Use her status as a reporter to help him get something?

  An amplified voice rang out through the café. “This is Sergeant Wilkins; we’d like to speak to the man in charge. We are going to call into the shop, so please answer the phone.”

  Len and his accomplice looked at one another, and then the phone behind the counter started to ring. They both turned to stare at it, and man two turned to Len. “You gonna get it?”

  “No,” he growled.

  “Why not? We can demand a getaway car and leave.”

  Len laughed at him. “You are so stupid. They aren’t going to let us go. They’d just as soon kill us.”

  The guy looked surprised and then disappointed. “We can give ourselves up.”

  “We are not going to give ourselves up, numbnuts,” Len hissed at him.

  “Maybe you won’t, but you can’t tell me what I’m going to do.” He planted his feet firmly as he squared off to Len. “I’d rather go to jail than be stuck six feet under.”

  “You keep that shit up, and that’s the only place you’re going to end up,” he snapped back at him. “Now, stop your yapping so I can think.” He turned and pointed the gun at one of the employees who was on the floor near the back. “Go pick that phone up and hang it back up.”

  The kid blanched but got off the floor and went behind the counter. The phone stopped ringing, and it was so quiet in the room that you could hear the phone being hung back up. Len waved his gun toward the kid to sit back down.

  I observed them from the corner of my eye, waiting patiently for a moment that I could step in and take control of Len’s weapon. I had a feeling that if I could subdue him, I could talk the other guy into giving himself up. I hoped that the cops were listening so that they were aware that we had one subject who was willing to turn himself in.

  The phone started ringing again. “You!” He shouted at the kid again just after he got seated. “Stand by that phone, and every time it rings, you hang it up! Got it?” The kid rushed back to the phone, and a moment later, it stopped ringing.

  I glanced around the café; a variety of people were scattered along the floor. An elderly man glared at the two men as he shifted on the ground, looking uncomfortable. A frazzled-looking woman was in the corner, her legs curled under her as she kept glancing at her watch. A couple held hands on the far wall, both wore wedding rings, but not matching. Were they merely lending support to the other or having an affair? Several businessmen were seated near the back, looking ann
oyed or bored. Some held coffee cups as if they had just received their orders.

  What I wouldn’t do for a freaking cup of coffee right now; at least I hadn’t paid for all that coffee yet. After this, I was buying a damn coffeemaker, and I’d put it at my desk if I had to. Jake could kiss my ass.

  The pregnant woman next to me winced and sucked in a breath. “You okay?” I asked softly.

  Numbnuts was watching us; she nodded at me nervously.

  “Hey, guys.” Len spun around as I spoke, pointing his gun toward me. “Whoa, no reason to point that gun at me. I just want to suggest that you have a little heart here and let this pregnant woman have a chair, along with the elderly gentleman over there. Neither of them are threats to you, but being kind to them might go a long way in your defense.”

  “No,” he hissed back.

  “Can I at least use the restroom?” the woman surprised me by asking. “My baby is kicking my bladder.”

  Len stared at her and her large abdomen. “Fine.”

  She looked immediately thankful but then struggled to get to her feet. I went to get to my feet and felt the muzzle of the gun at my forehead.

  “I’m just going to help her get off the ground,” I said.

  “Sit your ass down; Chuck can help her up.”

  And just like that, Numbnuts had a first name. I sank back to the ground, and Chuck held out a hand to the woman. I took her other hand and helped the best that I could being seated on the ground. She waddled herself to the bathroom and disappeared behind the door.

  I sat there, trying to figure out the best way to play this. How long would it be before Len spoke with authorities?

  Chuck was pacing and turned on Len. “How are we gonna get out of this?”

  “I’m thinking,” he said as the bathroom door opened and the woman emerged, looking slightly distressed.

  She shuffled back to my side, and I helped her get down to the ground. “Are you alright?”

  She shook her head and threw a look in their direction. “No, I’m bleeding, and I’m having some small contractions.”