"I was exactly where I needed to be." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Breakfast?"
The food court is already busy with the morning rush when we arrive. People stare as we move through the line. The wildlife specialist with her K9 bodyguard. Speculation and gossip are probably running wild by now, but I hold my head high and pretend I don't care what anyone thinks.
We eat in relative silence, though Duke gets plenty of attention from Devlin's hand feeding him bits of bacon. The quiet comfort of it soothes some of the jagged edges left by last night's terror.
"I need to work today," I say, pushing eggs around my plate. "Real work. Not hiding in hotel rooms or offices. I have field surveys scheduled, and the habitat modifications need monitoring."
"Then we'll do field surveys." Devlin drains his coffee. "You're not doing anything alone, but you're also not stopping your life because some asshole wants you scared."
The fact that he understands, that he's not trying to wrap me in bubble wrap and lock me away, makes breathing easier. I'm not helpless. I'm not giving up. I'm just accepting that having backup doesn't make me weak.
We spend the morning in the wetlands, and the work grounds me in familiar rhythms. Devlin asks intelligent questions, Duke explores the marsh edges, and for stretches of time I almost forget why they're really here. Almost forget that someone wants me gone badly enough to invade my home.
By afternoon, exhaustion pulls at me despite the hotel bed. Adrenaline crash combined with restless sleep leaves mefunctioning but fragile. When Devlin suggests we head back to base early, I don't argue.
"I have a shift at the diner tonight," I say as we load my equipment into the truck. "Mom's expecting me."
"Then we'll go to the diner with you." He closes the truck bed, already calculating logistics in his expression. "Duke and I can grab a snack."
Pine Valley's diner feels like sanctuary when we arrive that evening. Familiar smells, familiar faces, Mom's commanding presence behind the counter. This is my safe space, the place where I'm just Andi helping her mother, not the stalking victim or the woman whose cottage was broken into.
Mom spots Devlin and Duke immediately, her sharp gaze assessing everything in seconds. She shows them to the same corner booth they occupied before, the one with clear sightlines to the whole restaurant and both exits. Military training might fade, but some instincts stay sharp.
I slip into my apron and fall into the rhythm of taking orders, delivering food, refilling coffee. Between customers, Mom watches me with that particular intensity she reserves for when she knows something I haven't figured out yet.
During a lull, she corners me at the coffee station. "That man hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked in."
"He's doing his job, Mom."
"Honey, I've seen men do their jobs. That's not what's happening in that booth." She refills her own coffee cup, casual but pointed. "That man looks at you like you're water and he's been crossing the desert."
My face flushes. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?" Mom's smile is knowing. "Because from where I'm standing, you look at him the same way. Like maybe you're thirsty too."
"Mom." My protest comes out weak even to my own ears.
"I'm just saying, sweetheart. Tyler wouldn't want you to stop living. He loved you enough to want you happy, even if that happiness comes after he's gone." She squeezes my shoulder, her touch gentle. "Don't use grief as an excuse to stay lonely. That man out there? He sees you. Really sees you. That's rare."
"What about you?" I ask. "You never remarried after Dad died. You've been alone for twelve years."
Mom's expression softens, quiet for a moment. "I thought about it. Dated a few men over the years. But I realized something, honey. Your father was the love of my life. That kind of love, it doesn't come twice for everyone." She cups my cheek. "But you're young. You have so much life ahead of you. And what you had with Tyler was beautiful, but it doesn't mean you can't have something beautiful again. Different, maybe. But just as real."
Her words make it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. "What if I can't do it again, Mom? What if I let someone in and lose them too?"
"Then you'll survive it, because you're strong enough. Because you're my daughter and O'Rourke women don't break, we bend." She lets her hand drop. "But don't choose loneliness because you're afraid of loss. That's not living, sweetheart. That's just hiding."
I don't know what to say to that, so I focus on wiping down the counter that doesn't need wiping. Mom lets me have the silence, then heads back to the register to handle a customer checking out.
But her words linger, joining yesterday's late-night confessions and this morning's realization that Devlin slept on a floor rather than leave me unprotected. He does see me. And somewhere between the stalking and the protection detail and Duke claiming me as pack, I started seeing him too.
The diner is closed as my shift ends, and exhaustion pulls at my bones. The past few days have piled up, weight I'm struggling to carry. As we head out into the parking lot, full darkness has settled over Pine Valley, the streetlights casting pools of amber light across the asphalt.
Devlin walks beside me toward my truck, Duke between us. I'm fishing my keys from my pocket when Duke stops abruptly, his entire body going rigid. His ears snap forward, nose working the air, and then he sits. Hard. Immediate. Every muscle tense.
Devlin's hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and yanking me back before I can take another step. "Don't move."
"What's wrong?"
