He wasn’t used to it.
He turned right onto Fifth Street to see The Tea House up ahead. The first few weeks living here, he’d gone to the diner for his coffee. A big fucking mistakethathad been. The stuff tasted like watered-down dirt. Combine that with Burt’s Pizza and he’d assumed this town didn’t have good coffeeorpizza.
It had damn near been a deal breaker.
Then Stetson had told him to try The Tea House, and fuck he was glad he had. Good coffee. Good pie. And Mrs. Gerald reminded him of his late grandmother, who’d not only raised him but was the best woman he’d ever known.
He stepped inside The Tea House to see most of the tables taken. Which was fine. He wasn’t staying.
Mrs. Gerald stopped in front of him on the other side of the counter, a warm smile curving her lips. “Zane, dear, how are you today?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“Busy. But I would never complain about that because there was a time not so long ago when I was close to shutting the place down because we weren’t busyenough.”
“With coffee like yours?”
“Oh, our coffee wasn’t what it is today.” She frowned. “You look tired. Are you doing okay?”
He could have laughed. He’d been tired since all the shit that had gone down in Billings. It was only recently that he’d finally been able to sleep again. “I’m doing all right.”
“How about an extra shot in your coffee?”
“I would never say no to an extra shot.”
Her smile widened. “Coming right up.”
The café owner had just turned when a woman by the window caught Zane’s attention. She sat at a booth, the weak sun shining on long brown hair with blond streaks.
It was his military training that had taught him how to read body language. Little things gave people away. Nervous touches to the face. Visibly tight shoulders. Even the flickering of eyes. Right now, the woman was doing all of that. Her knuckles were white around her coffee and her gaze was sweeping the street outside. But not like she was waiting for someone. More like she was afraid she’dseesomeone.
Who? And who was she?
He hadn’t seen her before, which was strange in a town the size of Amber Ridge. Everyone here seemed to look at least somewhat familiar, like he’d run into them at the grocery store at some point.
He turned back to the counter. Not his business.
When Mrs. Gerald set his coffee in front of him, he thanked her and paid, leaving a generous tip before heading out.
The nervous woman had left too and was heading toward a car…but it wasn’t just Zane who was watching her. Two men a few cars away had their eyes on her—and not in a good way.
Zane stopped because even though he liked to mind his own business, his gut told him that those guys were about to cross a fucking line.
He waited, and like clockwork, the assholes moved toward her. Zane’s eyes narrowed, thenhemoved toward her.
One of the guys stepped in front of her, blocking her way to her car. He said something Zane couldn’t catch, and the second guy behind her blocked her from walking away.
The woman looked over her shoulder before the guy in front of her spoke again. Zane stopped close enough so he could hear the conversation. If one of them so much as raised a hand, he was stepping in.
“You think you can just stroll back into town like everyone forgot what you did?”
The woman straightened. “Respectfully, get out of my way, before I make you.”
They both laughed, but it was the guy in front of her who responded. “You’ll make us? What will you do? Leave us at a party todie?”
She glanced behind her, and that’s when Zane saw her eyes harden. “Last chance.”
The guy at her front grabbed her arm and yanked her forward.
