Rowan seemed glad to see him whenever he walked in. Of course, she was friendly to all her patrons. However, he’d never noticed her sitting with any of the other customers as she did with him if she wasn’t busy.
He needed to know if she was interested in a date. If not, Brent would find another coffee shop to frequent so he wouldn’t make her uncomfortable. He hoped she didn’t reject him, though. He really liked her and the shop was convenient to his commute.
Minutes later, Brent turned into Washington Village and noticed Coffee House’s lights blazing in the darkness. Excellent. The shop was still open. Now if he could just string two sentences together and convince the lady he was worth taking a chance on.
He opened the shop door and breathed deep. Coffee, cinnamon, chocolate, all scents he associated with Rowan. He scanned the interior of the shop. A few customers lingered over mugs of hot drinks and pastries while the lady herself cleaned behind the coffee bar.
She turned. A smile curved that perfect mouth and jumpstarted his heart. Man, he was such a sap when it came to this woman. If only his friends could see him now, they’d be rolling on the floor, laughing.
Brent crossed the shiny oak floor and sat on a cushioned stool at the wooden bar. “Please tell me you still have coffee.”
“I always hold a cup back for you.” She glanced at the clock. “Working late, Brent?”
He nodded. “You don’t have anyone working with you this evening?” Washington Village was a safe neighborhood from what he’d seen, but he didn’t like her being here alone at night. She usually had an assistant with her in the shop.
Rowan wrinkled her nose. “Cassidy has the flu and everyone else had plans.” She shrugged. “When you’re the owner, you work whatever shifts aren’t covered.”
Yeah, he was familiar with that. Brent had been on more than a few missions over the years because he didn’t have the personnel to cover another location. Since he was unattached, he didn’t complain much. That situation, however, had led to him recruit more talent. The truth was, he wanted to be married or dating. Rowan had changed his stance on remaining dateless and single. “I understand.”
She slid a mug of coffee across the bar. “Interested in a snack? I bet you haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
Was this his opportunity? “I wouldn’t say no to whatever you have on hand. Unless….”
Rowan glanced up. Her gaze locked on his. “Unless?”
Just do it, Maddox. Where’s that SEAL courage? “Are you interested in going to dinner with me?”
Rowan’s brown eyes widened. “Would this be a date?”
“I’d like to count it as one.”
“In that case, yes. Do you mind waiting a bit? I have to clean to prepare for tomorrow.”
Giving himself a mental fist pump, he sipped his coffee, and said, “I’ll give you a hand.”
“I can handle it.”
Brent stood. “You’ll finish faster with an extra pair of hands.”
Relief spread on her face. “If you’re sure.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Finish your coffee while I send the last of my customers on their way.” She hurried around the coffee-colored bar.
Five minutes later, his coffee cup and the shop were empty.
“Would you mind taking out the trash for me, Brent?”
Amusement swept over him at her hesitancy. “Of course not. I’m very skilled at taking out the garbage.” He’d done more than his share of taking out the kind in the garbage cans and the human kind as well over his years in Special Forces and black ops.
Laughing, she went behind the counter and grabbed a basket of cleaning supplies. Within thirty minutes, Coffee House was ready for business the next morning and Rowan locked the front door. “Thank you for your help, Brent,” Rowan said as she faced him.
“No problem. Where are you parked?”
She smiled. “Around back. I live above the shop.”
“Nice. Must make midnight coffee raids a snap.”
“In the middle of the night, I prefer hot chocolate.”
“Good choice.” He made a mental note of her preference. The information might come in handy. “Let’s take my SUV.”
“Are you one of those men who hates to let anyone else drive?”
He winked at her. “Busted.” Another laugh from Rowan. Oh, yeah, he could become addicted to hearing her laugh. “What type of food are you in the mood for?”
“Mexican.”
“I know the perfect place.” Behind the wheel of his SUV once again, he drove from the village and headed toward Rivergate.
“You’ve been coming into my coffee shop for months, and I still don’t know what you do for a living.”
He’d been frequenting Coffee House for ten months, three weeks, and two days. But who was counting? “I own Fortress Security. We specialize in hostage rescue and retrieval.” Among other things he couldn’t name. “We also train bodyguards and search and rescue teams.”
When she was silent a moment, Brent glanced her way. Speculation lit her eyes. “Ask,” he said gruffly.
“What did you do before you started Fortress?”
“Military. Navy.”
“Something tells me you simplified your background.” Before she could say more, her cell phone signaled an incoming call. “Sorry,” she murmured, glancing at the screen. “I need to take this. It’s my sister.”
“Go ahead.” Brent knew about phone calls at inconvenient times. He hoped his cell remained silent until he drove Rowan home after dinner. Maybe he’d talk her into a short stroll around the village. Brent wanted to know how safe her neighborhood was at night. His brow furrowed. Did she have an alarm system for her apartment? Something he’d have to investigate.
“Hi, Heather. Everything okay?”
Brent’s head whipped her direction. Something in her voice tipped him off that all was not well with her sister.
Rowan listened a few seconds, sat up. “Wait. Slow down. What’s going on, Sis?”
“Put it on speaker,” Brent said.
Without arguing, Rowan did
