Kansas and Dakota stilled near the closed window of the room where the scream had come from. Both cocked their ears and concentrated. As Calian joined his brothers, he caught a whimper. It wasn’t sexual. Instead, he gained an impression of a scared child. Silence reigned for two tense minutes. He knew because he timed it with his designer watch. The light inside the room flicked on, and Calian and his brothers retreated to watch from the shadows.
“That wasn’t sex,” Kansas said. “If I were to guess, I’d say bad dream. She must’ve fallen asleep fast. She wasn’t much ahead of us.”
“Nightmare. That’s my reading,” Calian agreed. “It should be easy enough to learn more about the living situation.”
In the distance, a group of people exited a restaurant, their exuberant shouting and laughter floating on the night air.
“We’d better go in case some of them head in this direction,” Matto said. “Back to the inn?”
“Yeah,” Dakota agreed. “The more I learn about this woman, the more interesting she becomes.”
3 – Breakfast Flirtation With Renee
Renee dragged herself out of bed the next morning, her eyes heavy, her mind dull and thumping at her temples. A quick glance at her phone confirmed the earliness of the hour. Fallen army buddies and the enemy had stalked her sleep last night. As was normal with dreams, memories scrambled and the foe became the murderer from Miami, his contorted face hideous as he tried to shove a knife in her ribs. Then, his knife had morphed to a big-ass sword.
“Off with her head!” he’d roared. “Kill the traitor.”
Her reality had transformed into a full-on medieval battle. Heck, she’d staggered under the chainmail dragging on her shoulders. That would teach her to fall asleep listening toGame of Thrones. Next time, a cozy mystery or a boring autobiography might blunt her imagination.
And blast those men turning up last night. Something about them, something she couldn’t explain, had set her on edge.
She grabbed her dressing gown and drew it around her body, thrust her feet in flip-flops and gathered a change of clothes. When she exited her room, the communal part of the dormitory held a silence and an emptiness that echoed through her heart.
Once she’d showered and dressed, she checked the communal fridge and muttered under her breath. Someone had used the last of the milk and a quick search of the pantry showed no further long-life cartons.
Renee stomped back to her room to grab outerwear to combat the cold plus her billfold. If she hoped to be alert for flying, she needed a hot drink.
Customers packed the Lanky Moose when Renee arrived. She joined the line at the counter and perused the offerings in the cabinet. After checking her money, she decided she could afford a muffin today but that would be it for the week.
“Hey, Emily,” she greeted the redhead behind the counter.
Emily’s apron bore a splotch of what looked like blood. Renee shivered. She suspected tomato sauce but averted her gaze before her stomach churned.
She focused on Emily’s face—her wide, welcoming smile and kitchen-frizz hair. “I’d like a large coffee and a blueberry muffin to have here—if I can find a table.”
Emily accepted her money and handed over change. “The one in the corner is freeing up. Grab it and I’ll come by to clear the dishes once I’ve taken these orders.”
Renee retreated to the corner and stacked the plates to make Emily’s job easier. She’d done a stint or two as a waitress before joining the army.
Emily bustled over to remove the tray and wipe the table surface. “You shouldn’t have a long wait. I’ll bring the muffin with your coffee.”
“You’re busy,” Renee said.
“I know. It’s great, isn’t it? Especially considering the café was dead a few months ago. Kendall cooks amazing food and the word has spread.”
Renee nodded, a fixed smile in place. The warning bell on the door rang for a new arrival. It was one of the men from the previous night. The one with the long black hair. His gaze swept the café, alighting on her.
In seconds, his long strides brought him to her table.
“Hello,” he said in a cheerful voice. “This place is busy. Would you mind if I share your table?”
Hell, no. This wasn’t a good idea.“Of course.” Politeness compelled her to do the right thing. Once her coffee arrived, she’d drink fast and make her excuses.
He towered over her, and Renee puffed out a breath of relief when he sat. Even then, his big body dominated their corner of the café. Not that he was fat or overweight. Renee sensed if she poked his chest or belly, the tight muscle might buckle her finger.
“I saw you in the bar last night,” he said.
Renee couldn’t tell much by his drawl. Most people reckoned she bore a hint of an accent but couldn’t place it, which wasn’t surprising since her New Zealand mother and American stepfather had moved all over the world, dragging her with them.
