“Got some projects at Mom’s. A few around my place.” He left out the houseplant duty Denver had bestowed upon him. “Probably spend the rest of it fishing.”
Ava let out a light laugh. “Don’t sound so excited about avacation.”
Kinley pointed a cracker at him. “Is it really a vacation if you don’tgoanywhere?” She let her gaze linger as she scooped a dollop of crab dip onto her cracker.
Ryder lifted his frosted beer mug and took a sip, mostly to block out Kinley’s assessing eyes. His pulse operated a little funny when she studied him this closely, and he wasn’t all too certain he cared for it. “We can’t all travel the world.”
“Iraq is lovely in the summer.” He wasn’t certain, but he thought Kinley was flirting with him. “Ever been?”
“If there isn’t fishing involved, he’s not leaving town,” Chase directed across the table at the women, nudging Ryder with an elbow. “Did you know we almost had a pool going down at the fire hall? Whether or not you’d even take off the day for Denver’s wedding.”
Saved by the entree delivery, Ryder ignored the comment and unrolled his silverware from its cloth napkin restraint. Not that he’d need it much. Wednesdays, most patrons came in for the fish and chips special. Warren’s deep-fried halibut was known to draw in a crowd.
Kinley let out a moan of delight with her first bite. “Nobody does fish and chips like Warren’s.” Despite Ryder’s best efforts to study his beer mug, he caught the sparkle in her eyes. The summer they’d spent as friends, before that kiss, they came here half a dozen times on Wednesdays.
“You should come back more than once everynineyears,” Ava said to Kinley. “You miss out on all the good stuff.”
“Ryder says you’re going to be an Army pilot. Fly helicopters,” Chase said between bites.
“Maybe.” Kinley stared at her fish basket, moving around the pieces with a fork.
“Sounded like a done deal,” Chase said. “Change your mind?”
Ryder’s curiosity piqued, because the way Fiona made it sound, flight school was already on the calendar for Kinley. It shouldn’t matter to him, whether she spent another decade in the Army or not. He shouldn’t feel a shred of hope that she might have the option to stay.
“No, I just have to submit my packet. Go through that whole acceptance process. I’ll start that when I get back.”
Ryder casually dunked a piece of halibut in tartar sauce, pretending he didn’t notice Ava’s raised eyebrow. Before he could take a bite, the inner cop in him noticed the lone man wearing a green Hawaiian shirt, standing at the bar and pounding his drink. Judging by the trouble he had staying on his stool, he wouldn’t be safe to walk out, much less drive.
“I’m hoping to fly Blackhawks. But you don’t find that out right away.”
“Why Blackhawks?” Ryder asked.
Kinley swallowed a bite, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I ended up in an aviation unit when I joined, and I’ve spent most of my time around them. I’m in the supply shop, but I’ve gone on lots of flights. Even got to play crew chief on a few test flights overseas. Thought it would be fun to fly one.”
Ryder didn’t care for the sinking feeling in his stomach. He should be happy for Kinley, finding a purpose. The Army had clearly been a good thing for her. She was so lost years ago, after her mom died. He’d been witness to too many youths heading down the wrong path because they felt that same way . . .lost. He couldn’t save them all, no matter how much he wished he could.
Still, the news settled like a stomachache.
“That’s so cool!” Ava cooed. “I’ve always wanted to take a helicopter ride, but the whole afraid-of-heights thing kind of ruins that.”
When the man at the bar slipped off his seat, Ryder tensed. Mr. Hawaiian Shirt gripped the back of the stool with enough force to rock the heavy chair as he climbed back in. Ryder slipped his phone from his pocket and shot Murph a text.
Ryder:Male, 50s, gray hair, green Hawaiian shirt, jeans. Drinking too much @ Warrens.
Murph:What are you doing?
Ryder:Might want to drive by. Looks like Mike just cut him off.
Murph:I got it covered. Go back to vacation.
“Germany, really?” Chase said to Kinley on a topic Ryder missed completely. “How was that?”
When the man at the bar stumbled outside to the deck, Ryder felt obligated to keep an eye on him. But he couldn’t see him through the window from where he sat. The last thing they needed was the man—tourist as far as Ryder could tell—falling over the railing and into the bay. If Ryder could avoid going for a chilly swim, he would. He ignored Kinley’s curious gaze and pushed out of his chair. “I need to make a quick call.”
When Ryder made it outside, Mr. Hawaiian Shirt was leaning over the railing too far to be safe. “Where’s za otter? They said there’z an otter. I don’t see ’im.”
Despite the restaurant half full of volunteer firefighters watching him, Ryder did what any cop—on or off duty—would do. He approached the man with the intent to keep him from going over the side and remove him from the public restaurant before he disrupted dinner service. “You all right there?” he asked, leaning against the railing. He stayed far enough away to avoid a swing should the man get violent, but close enough to leap to action if required.
