A shadow falls across us.
Maverick’s voice is low and flat. Dangerous.
“Step away from my woman. Now. If you want to live.”
Chapter 8
Maverick
TheWaffleDeniswarm enough to fog my breath the second I step inside.
Mabel looks up from behind the counter and locks onto me like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“Well,” she says, voice bright with trouble, “if it isn’t Lovesbury’s grumpiest ex-bachelor. Two days in a row. Should I start charging you rent?”
“Table,” I mutter.
She presses a hand to her chest like I just proposed.
“Oh, he wants a table. Look at you, Rodgers. The auction actually found you a woman.”
My jaw tightens. “Don’t start.”
Mabel’s grin only gets wider. “What? I’m proud of my town. We fix a roof and accidentally domesticate you. Everybody wins.”
“Two burgers,” I say.
“Of course,” she chirps. “Same as yesterday?”
“No,” I mutter. “Make it double.”
Her brows lift. “You did something that wore you out?”
I give her a look.
She holds it, unbothered, then grabs two menus and jerks her head toward a booth by the window.
“Come on,” she says. “Sit before I tell the whole diner you’re blushing.”
“I’m not,” I grumble, following her anyway.
She slides the menus onto the table, still smirking. “In case you need more energy, I’ll bring coffee too. You look like you need it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” she says, and heads back toward the counter.
I shift in the booth, eyes going to the window without thinking.
And that’s when I see it.
Nova near the bank entrance.
A man’s hand on her wrist.
Pulling.
My body goes cold.
