“Or organizing Santa’s naughty-and-nice list.”
Maddie laughed. “Or…?”
“Okay, let’s play a different game.” Chloe leaned back in her chair. “The one where you tell me what you really want to hear.”
“Okay, how about this-when were you going to come clean about hiring Jax to renovate the sunroom?”
Chloe sighed. “He tattled.”
“He
“That man is
“Honey, you asked the man I sleep with every night to help you,” Maddie said. “Of course he’s going to tell me. I thought we were going to do this as a team.”
“We are. And I didn’t hire him. I only wanted to get an idea of the damage before we worked on the overall business plan. I put a short survey up on our website, just so we could get some feelers about who might be interested.” She had to work hard at sounding cool, calm, and collected, when she wanted to grin triumphantly. “Several people have already inquired about booking for day treatments. Two of them are interested in overnight stays at our full rate.”
“I like the full rate part,” Maddie said.
“I bet Tara likes it even more.”
“Let’s go get some food and find out.”
“Is Tara cooking?” Chloe asked hopefully.
“Not tonight. We have no guests, and we were thinking Eat Me.”
Eat Me Cafe was the diner where Tara had worked up until they’d gotten the B &B running. It was still a quick go-to when they were starving, though lately they’d been too busy to eat together. Well, technically Tara and Maddie had been too busy with their full lives. Chloe not so much. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing. Just a together meal. And maybe…” She pulled Chloe to her feet. “A certain sister feels like she could have been more supportive, but she’s too Southern and mule-headed to admit it so she’s buying dinner instead.”
“Mmm,” Chloe said, grabbing her purse. “I love it when Tara feels the guilt.”
Chloe, Maddie, and Tara had just ordered their dinner when a group of guys entered the diner, laughing and talking so obnoxiously loud that the entire diner went quiet. It was Todd, Jamie, and two others that Chloe had seen around, Dan and Mitch. Filthy from head to toe, they’d clearly just gotten off a job, but that wasn’t what made Chloe’s gut clench.
It was the look in Jamie’s eyes, the one that said he’d been drinking. Mitch too. She was glad Lance and Tucker weren’t with them.
The diner was still quiet, the uncomfortable kind of quiet as Jamie gave them all a mocking bow. Next to him, Mitch started laughing into the silence.
“Sit down,” Todd said to them uneasily, locking gazes with Chloe.
Arms still wide, Jamie straightened from his bow and knocked the glasses off the table closest to him. “Oops.”
Seated at that table was Lucille and her blue-haired posse. Lucille put her hands on the table and rose, her tight bun all aquiver. “Jamie Robinson,” she said sternly. Even with her tower of hair piled on top of her head, she was barely five feet tall, but she got right up in Jamie’s face, waggling a bony finger. “You can’t afford any more trouble, do you hear me? You boys get out of here, and don’t come back until you’re sober, all of you.” She spared a scathing look at Todd. “And you. You should be ashamed of yourself. People are rooting for you to get your life together.”
The four guys stared at her like she was an alien, and then Mitch burst out laughing again as they took an empty table.
Amy was the waitress on shift, and she was new to Lucky Harbor. Mid-twenties, she was tall and leggy and tomboy pretty in low-riding cargos, a tank top, and some ass-kicking boots. She was standing behind the bakery counter, gazing at Mitch, clearly unhappy to see him. When she’d first come to town, he’d gotten a little aggressive in his attempt to date her, until she’d actually Maced him one night.
Still laughing, Mitch looked her over and winked lecherously.
Lucille pulled out her cell phone. Probably calling the police, Chloe thought. She wondered if Sawyer was on duty, and how he’d feel about having to face down these drunken idiots.
“Jan should have refused them service,” Tara murmured. Jan was the diner’s owner and had a zero monkey business tolerance. “They’re obviously intoxicated, and they’re making Maddie as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
“I’m fine,” Maddie said. A lie. She was vibrating with nerves. Confrontations did that to her, for good reason. She’d once told Chloe that her ex-boyfriend had been a bully, much like Jamie and Mitch. Smooth and charming on the outside, mean as a snake on the inside.
From the kitchen, the cook dinged his bell. Someone’s food was ready, and Amy loaded up a tray. As she walked past the guys’ table, Mitch reached out and patted her ass. “Hey, baby. Miss me?”
Amy gave him an eat-shit-and-die look. “Get your hand off my ass.”
He laughed like a hyena. “Or what?”
Amy dumped the tray over his head. Soup rained down his hands and face, noodles clinging to his wet skin. “Jesus, that’s hot!” he yelled, pulling his shirt away from his body.
Amy glowered at the others as she bent to pick up the fallen dishes. Chloe got up to help her, as did a man from a table behind them.
“Hey, asshole!” Mitch bellowed at the man crouched next to Amy. “Back away from my girlfriend.”
Amy stood up. “Are you kidding me? Get out of here, Mitch.”
Eyes completely soulless, Mitch merely smiled. “Make me.”
Chapter 14
“They say money talks, but all mine
ever says is ‘good-bye, sucker.’”
Chloe Traeger
Earlier that morning, Sawyer had given some serious consideration to staying in bed. He was tired, and already knew his desk was nothing but a mountain of paperwork waiting for him. He hated paperwork with the same passion that he hated errands, cooking for himself, and mowing his dad’s lawn-which reminded him, he needed to go by there, as he’d been doing every few days.
For all the good it did him.
Hell, Sawyer wasn’t even sure the man was eating the food he brought. Nolan Thompson was probably tossing it out soon as Sawyer left, then ordering himself pizza.
Sawyer would’ve liked a pizza. He thought about it all day, and five minutes from going off duty and getting himself that loaded thick crust, the call came in-overly rowdy customers at the diner. He drove over there wondering what the odds were that he’d get pizza tonight after all.
Not good, he realized in the first two seconds of walking through the diner’s front door.
“Who the fuck called the pigs!” Mitch bellowed at the sight of Sawyer. Swinging out, Mitch punched his fist through the bakery display.
Glass shattered to the floor in a slow, musical wave.
He pulled back his arm for another swing, blood blooming brightly from shoulder to wrist as he snagged a
