Sterling:Stacey Mohawk's on the hunt for an interview about last night. She also wants to find Doyle. I'm about to talk to him, but as big as that man's ego is, I know he won't want to be in front of the camera.
Juniper:I can handle Stacey.
A pause, but bubbles still appeared, so Sterling waited.
Juniper:Thank you for last night. And I'm looking forward to a second date… tonight… even if it's you sitting in your regular stool and me serving you food and drinks.
He rubbed the back of his neck. No denying he liked Juniper. Doubting her intentions didn't change that. It just put a damper on them.
Sterling:In that case, we've been dating for months.
He stared at the screen hoping she might find that amusing. It was meant to be tongue in cheek—the kind of thing he'd say without a second thought if he could stop wondering whether she was only here because of what was stored in his head.
Juniper:That certainly takes the pressure off and if phrased properly to everyone in this town, might get them to move on to the next piece of gossip.
That was one way to look at it. He set the phone face-down on the table and looked out the window at the bright wet street and let himself feel, for a moment, like a man who'd finally gotten something right.
"Oh, good grief," he mumbled as Doyle and Tara stumbled in with her arms wrapped around Doyle like she wanted to eat him. Doyle wasn't any better, except he was using only one hand because he’d tucked a folder under one arm.
It shouldn't surprise Sterling that he and Tara had hooked up, but it did. Every op Sterling and Doyle had worked together, Doyle always waited until after the mission had been over before acting like a horn dog. Never before. And certainly not during. So, if Doyle was there to "spy" on Sterling, it would be incredibly unprofessional of him to be fooling around with Tara in the middle of the assignment.
Doyle lifted his chin as he made eye contact with Sterling, then guided Tara toward the counter. He placed an order, but over the chatter of the café and the soft music, Sterling couldn't make it out.
Heather pushed two to-go cups across the counter along with a small paper bag. Doyle thanked her and a minute later, he was kissing Tara like a horny teenager before pushing her out the front door.
Doyle dropped into the bench across from Sterling, plopping his folder on the table. Seconds later, Heather slid the egg sandwich onto the table.
"Hey." Doyle picked up his coffee. "I ordered the same."
Sterling laughed and shook his head. "I see you haven't changed much."
"What? Tara?" Doyle shrugged and took a big gulp of his coffee. "She's a nice girl. Doesn't care that I'm not sticking around. Honestly, I think she's a little relieved I'm heading home in a week or so."
Sterling wasn't so sure about that. He knew Tara a little—knew her loud laugh and fast hands and the way she'd built a whole personality around not wanting the things that might force her to settle down and take a good look at where she came from.
He'd watched enough people run from something to recognize that what appeared to be confidence and a desire to be independent was really the fear of being utterly alone.
But that wasn't his to name out loud, and Tara was a grown woman.
Doyle, well, he was a lot of things, but he'd never once lied to a woman about what he was offering. That was the one truth Sterling knew about him. It didn't make him a good man. It just made him an honest dick.
Doyle set down his coffee and frowned. "Christ, you've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're either about to lecture me about Tara, or you've got something else you want to get off your chest. Either way, it's going to ruin my breakfast." He spread his hands. "So, let's just get it out of the way. Hit me."
Sterling picked up half his sandwich and took a healthy bite while he searched for the right words to deal with the situation.
He and Doyle had never been friends. They didn't contact each other after the JSOC missions were over, like Sterling and Nick Colter had. They didn't text. They didn't send invitations to retirement parties or barbeques. They didn't call for no reason.
The only thing that Doyle and Sterling ever did was share a drink together after a mission because when men almost died together, it was the proper etiquette.
And he liked Doyle in the way he liked the man who had his six in a dark alley when bullets came flying out of nowhere. He trusted Doyle even more, and that was what mattered.
But right now, Sterling didn't trust that Doyle was being honest. "I'm just going to say it because beating around the bush would be a disgrace to the things we saw and did together," Sterling said. "I don't believe for a second you're here on vacation."
"Excuse me?"
