A larger, mid-fifties woman burst out from the interior of the diner and nearly everyone went silent. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the three of them and she planted her hands on her hips, emphasizing the waist-style apron she wore. “George. Jack. Who do you think you are, storming into my place and disturbing my patron’s meals?” She snatched up a towel and stomped closer, snapping it toward them like a displeased mother. “Both of you, out! And you”—she turned her attention to the third member of the agitated group, who’d hung back near the front—“you, too! Don’t think I don’t know who you came in here with. Take your attitudes outside to drown in this rain, or take them to the pub, but don’t bring them in here!” She snapped her towel with each new declaration, spurring Jack and George to scurry down the aisle like scorned children.
It might have been funny if Lance didn’t want to beat them as badly as he did. He flexed his hands at his sides but held his position.
The woman huffed and turned her attention to him with a frown. “You didn’t have to escalate things, you know.”
Lance rolled his jaw. “Those two should’ve minded their business. I gave them opportunities to back off.”
“Lance,” Lynn called from behind him. “Come sit down.”
Lance dipped his chin to the woman he presumed to be the owner, then turned and reclaimed his seat in the booth across from Lynn. He smiled at the frown she aimed at him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “Jack needed some perspective. I held back.”
Lynn propped an elbow on the table and pressed her fingers to her temple with a sigh. “I know you did.” She lowered her arm, then, and lifted her eyes to his. A smile tipped her lips. “Let’s not let old blowhards ruin the day. We haven’t even ordered.”
He matched her smile and thumbed open his menu.
Chapter fifteen
Of Monsters & Men
Lynnette had sailed pastsecond- or triple-guessing herself long before she unlocked her front door and led the way inside. The conservative side of her was shrieking at the mere notion of having suggested a man shemighthave just gone on a first date with follow her home. Lord knew her dad would throw a fit. But she did her best to silence both those internal voices, as well as the one that immediately filled the silence with mortified self-consciousness over worries of her handsome guest’s opinion of her modest home.
Opinions on her home, like impressions from outsiders as to what she was doing, were irrelevant. They didn’t matter.
“It’s not much,” she heard herself saying anyway as she flicked the living room light on, “but make yourself comfortable. Are you thirsty? Did you want anything?”
Lance chuckled as he ambled into the indicated space, his voice an octave lower than usual when he replied, “Not the way you mean, no.”
A shiver rolled down her spine that had nothing to do with the evening chill outside. She’d spent most of the day with him, and it was safe to say, Lynnette had never met a man who affected her the way Lance did. It was irrational. Illogical. All her life, she’davoidedmen like him—protective alpha male types who might, potentially, stick her in the vulnerable female box merely because she had a uterus. Yet the way he defended her, the way he continued to make his interest clear throughout their conversation while still respecting her minimum boundaries, all of it made her heart beat too fast. Her stomach wasfluttering.
Because she liked it. And she had no idea how to handle that.
“Oh,” Lance said suddenly, “before I forget.” He rummaged into a pocket and tossed something she could barely see at her, causing her to fumble the small, black device.
A thumb drive, she realized. She blinked at it once before looking back up at him.
He indicated the item clutched in her palm. “That’s yours, as promised. I won’t tell you what to do with it.” His arm lowered and something darkened his pale green eyes. “I mean that,” he said, “but I am askin’. Let me handle it, Lynn. Please. I’m guessing you wanted to do things the upright way, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it’s too damn much better than that fucker deserves. I know what he’s done. Let me take care of him.”
Her fingers curled around the drive as realization slammed into her chest and forced the air from her lungs. She swallowed hard. It wasn’t hard to believe someone with his life experience had contacts. He’d probably found some poorly buried digital trail of the original complaint she’d filed—the one the hospital she no longer owed a lick of loyalty to had sworn they’d locked away. She’d always assumed they meant ‘deleted’ and simply weren’t using that word to avoid giving her cause to slap them with the lawsuit they were so afraid of. And if Lance had foundthat, and obviously watched her latest video-defense against Gavin Bishop, then Lance knew.
Lance knew what Bishop had done to her, what the hospital had done in response, and he was asking her to stand down.
Lynnette sucked in a hard breath. “Why should I?” Her question was a grated whisper in the almost painful silence that had built between them. But it was necessary. “Why should I not go after him? I can go after all of them now that they let Gayle fire me for her bullshit reasons.”
Lance’s eyes widened and she realized her mistake.
He hissed out a curse, jaw jumping with tension as his hands flexed at his sides. “They fuckingfiredyou? For what? Making them look bad?”
A strained laugh scraped out of her and her arms swung down to her sides. “That would upset me less,” she said, trying to smile. For all she knew, that was Claire’s reason. But it didn’t explain Gayle’s hate. Gayle had been against her before they’d ever met.
Lance closed the distance between them before she could blink, his hands cupping her cheeks as he tilted her head back to keep her eyes on his. He was alarmingly close. Even in the less-than-perfect lighting of the space, he’d see her face burn red at their new proximity. But his alluring eyes held hers captive and she failed to protest, to try to push him off, and then he was speaking.
“Bring your lawsuit against whoever you need to bring it against, sweetheart,” he said quietly. There was a storm behind his calmly spoken words, but no imminent threat. “You just might have to sue Bishop posthumously. There’s no court, no verdict, that can deliver the punishment that scumbag deserves.”
Her hands rose without conscious direction, her fingers resting over his torso. “He’s … he’s abused others, hasn’t he?Hurt them?” Bishop had gotten his hands on her, it was true. He’d made too many advances, ignored her at every turn, but he’d never gotten what he’d so obviously been after. He’d underestimated her. And he’d been furious about it ever since. But in the back of her mind, Lynnette had always feared she hadn’t been the first he’d come after.
Lance dipped his chin. “Other nurses. Patients.” His brow furrowed. “His own daughter.”
Lynnette curled her fingers into Lance’s shirt as her stomach dropped. “His—” She hadn’t even known Bishophada child.
