“For that, I’ll give you a blueberry latte and a scone.”
The clerk hefted the box back onto the counter as Sierra stepped up. “You ready to move forward with this?”
With a grin, Sierra said firmly, “You bet.”
She could hardly wait to tell Flynn.
Flynn spotted Delaney crossing the jam-packed Starbucks lot in Bunker Hill. He’d seen her in boring, please don’t notice me suits for the Marshals Service, all sexed up for pretend dates with Bandon’s sheriff, but today’s look felt like the firsttime he was seeing the real Delaney Evans.
Her long blond hair was in a messy ponytail. A pale pink tank top tucked into jeans shorts, and she wore hiking boots. Notto mention what appeared to be a fully loaded backpack, from the way it drooped off her shoulders.
Huh. He’d never really thought about their marshal as a person. Only as a necessary annoyance—and the person Kellan annoyedmore than life itself. Which was often entertaining, even when Flynn had been eight hundred miles from able—or willing—tocrack a smile.
Leaning across the cabin of his new-to-him used truck, he popped the door for her. Delaney handed over two tall paper cups.Unzipped the top of her backpack, stowed it in the foot well, and sat down.
“Hey, thanks.” Flynn popped the lid to note that she’d added milk. Impressive that she remembered that small detail abouthim. Was it from memorizing his file or just being observant? “You didn’t have to buy me a coffee.”
She cocked her head to the side, giving him a look like he’d just told her the sun was green. “I did, actually. That’s howthis whole undercover thing works. If I meet someone at a coffeeshop and want to go unnoticed, I buy a couple of coffees.”
“Oh. Right.” Here he’d thought Delaney was just being nice. Guess that was a side effect of living in Bandon. That whole small-town,help-your-neighbor vibe was becoming second nature to him.
Well, not second nature. Maybe fifth nature, if there was such a thing. He wasn’t volunteering to go out fishing at dawn with Rafe and thecolonel in a giant kumbaya sunrise moment. Didn’t want to bother running against the Chamber of Commerce president to unseatthe giant, annoying douchebag.
But Flynn had refused to pocket the donations his self-defense class offered him. Instead, he collected the cash to put toward buying suppliesfor it, like a strike shield and a body opponent bag. And now that he had a truck, he planned to offer to help Elena takethe leftover flowers every Sunday from the big events at the resort over to the senior center to spruce it up. Sierra hadmentioned that it took her friend a bunch of trips in her tiny Volkswagen.
Did that mean he’d finally turned the corner from pretend good guy to a real one?
Delaney removed her lid and took a big swig. “It amazes me how you mobsters stayed out of trouble for so long if you can’teven follow the logic of a damn latte in my hands right now.”
“You know I never pulled any of that illegal stuff. I didn’t need to be sneaky to run a construction company.” Flynn dialedback his knee-jerk temper. He’d sure as hell never skulked around with a tire iron threatening people. Unless you countedthreatening McGinty’s crew to file their god damned taxes.
“Ah, that’s right. You’re the mobster poser brother.” Delaney made air quotes around the word mobster.
“There’s nothing halfway about belonging to the Chicago mob. And what’s with the bitchy insult?” Usually the marshal—unlessbeing baited by Kellan—was nothing but professional. Blunt as a butter knife, but she’d never passed judgment or been meanto them about their past affiliation.
“Sorry. Honestly?” Another slurp, as if to buy time while debating what to say. Which was not the marshal’s MO at all. “I’mkind of annoyed that you called me for help. Which is the right thing to do, and you deserve a ticker tape parade for followingprotocol, yada yada yada. But it’s Saturday morning of Fourth of July weekend. I’ve got plans.”
Her whole different look suddenly made a whole lot of sense. “A date? Or just a three-day binge at the shooting range?” heteased. “You got a gun in there?” Flynn surged to the side, grabbing for the zipper of her open pack. It gaped wider, givinghim a glimpse of the shiny metal of a barrel, right on top. “Jesus Christ, you do.”
“I’m a U.S. Marshal. I’m meeting with my protectee, who is at known risk from past associates. Of course I’m carrying.”
“We’re at risk? Did you hear something about McGinty?”
“No. This is protocol, nothing more. Didn’t mean to freak you out.” Delaney twisted to lean back against the window. She gavehim an appraising look that raked him from head to toe. “You’re usually the calm one. The one who doesn’t seem to give a shitabout anything.”
“Well, now I do.”
“Good. Can I hope it’s the result of my frequent and pointed pep talks?”
“Nah.”
“Hmm. The love of a good woman?” she joked on a laugh.
Love. That wasn’t a joke at all. Not if he could be sure that Sierra loved him back. Which would be the next hurdle he’d tackleafter securing Delaney’s help. Because they couldn’t get on with their life together until he got the elephant of her pastoff her back.
“Still, I saw you white-knuckle that cup.” She pointed to the drops of coffee he’d made overflow the lid when he squeezedit in alarm. “Something’s got you jumpy. Is that why we’re here today?”
“That’s part of it.”
He’d volunteered to make the trip to tell Delaney about O’Connor. They’d tailed him for two full days without seeing any signthat he knew the Maguire brothers lived there, let alone that he was out to put a hit on them. Better yet, he looked to betraveling with
