Stepping forward, I make myself known. “Hey, Unc.”
He glances behind him and tilts his head, just as confused as Violet. “Hey, Jag?—”
“What are you doing here?” I doubt he misses the sharp edge to my question, but I can’t help it. After the last few days, I’m exhausted, and anxious, and my patience is shit.
“Just grabbing a coffee.” Judge pauses. “Do you two…know each other?”
Do we know each other? Either the man’s lying out of his ass, or he hasn’t been following me as closely as he’d like me to believe. Then again, considering our last conversation, he does know I’m seeing someone. It’s not like he can’t piece it together. But whether or not he was aware of my connection to Violet until this moment is the real kicker.
My jaw clicks as I scrutinize him, searching for the truth while doling out introductions. “Violet, this is my uncle, Judge Harden. Judge, this is Violet, my girlfriend.”
He hesitates, scanning her up and down one more time with newfound interest. It isn’t predatory or condescending like it was when my dad first met her. No, it’s more genuine and curious. The combination quiets my apprehension. “You’re Violet?” he finally asks.
Her smile turns forced as her shoulders reach for her ears. “I, uh, yes?”
“I assume you’ve heard all about her from Titas?” I offer, hoping to ease a bit of Violet’s confusion despite addressing my uncle.
Judge nods. “It’s nice to meet you, Violet.”
“You, too,” Violet returns. “And I feel like I should add that whatever your brother said, he was very, very wrong.”
With a booming laugh, Judge replies, “Don’t worry. I know my brother well enough to take his…”—he gives me a stern look laced with mirth—“bitching with a grain of salt.”
Well, shit. Apparently, I was right about Titas not taking the offhand comment too lightly. Poor Judge. I bet he went through the ringer for it. Noticing a line beginning to form behind us, Judge says, “It’s very nice meeting you, Violet. I should probably let you get back to work.” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Jagger, why don’t you come and sit with me while you wait for your order? We can catch up.” The invitation is innocent enough, though he doesn’t stick around for my response, leaving a stunned Violet in his wake.
As I watch him leave, I feel her stare on the side of my face. Turning to her, I say, “How long has he been here?”
“Nothing crazy. Like three minutes, maybe?”
“Did it feel like he was snooping?” I prod. No use beating around the bush.
Her lips bunch on one side as if she’s replaying her interaction with my uncle. She shakes her head. “Nope. No snooping. Just a nice customer who gave a generous tip. Why? Actually, that’s a stupid question,” she rushes out. “I know why. But, uh, I don’t know? My gut instinct says he didn’t know who I was until you introduced us.” She pauses, her concerned gaze bouncing around my face like a pinball. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“Ahem?” Someone clears their throat behind me, and my jaw tightens.
Not the time, asshole.
With a smile, Violet leans around me, addressing them. “I’ll be right with you.” Turning back to me, she adds, “May I take your order, Mr. Harden?”
“Mr. Harden, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Cute.” I dig out my card and hand it to her. “I’ll have the usual, please.”
“One hot latte, coming right up.” She hits a few different buttons on the register, then taps my card against the reader. Once she’s finished, she hands it back to me. “Why don’t you go say hi, and I’ll bring your coffee over in a few?” I glance toward my uncle. My expression sours. “Oh, come on, he’s not so bad,” she insists. “Definitely nicer than your dad, at least.”
“Yeah, Titas sets the bar real high,” I grumble wryly.
A quiet laugh slips out of her. “Go before my manager sees you holding up the line.” She leans across the counter, and I meet her half-way, giving her a quick peck, though I know it’ll never be enough. She tastes like coffee. And not the bitter stuff. The sweet stuff. A mocha, maybe.
My fingers turn white as I grip the edge of the counter, fighting the urge to grab the back of her neck and drag her into me even more. With a low groan, I pull back and leave her to take a few more orders.
I glance toward my uncle one more time and run my tongue along the inside of my cheek. Fuuuuck. I don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to do anything but lock Violet in a room and screw her brains out. And then snuggle. I could do with some snuggling, too, but only with my Little Thief. Unfortunately for me, it isn’t an option right now, and I am curious.
Why are you here, Judge?
He’s at one of the booths further back. The thick rings along his hands glint in the morning sun filtering through the window as he scrolls his phone. Either he really doesn’t give a shit whether or not I join him, or he’s already written me off. The second wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve been a dick to him for months. Maybe it’s Violet’s encouragement or maybe it’s from lack of sleep thanks to the pending fight, but for some reason I can’t explain, I make my way across the small coffee shop and slide into the booth across from my uncle.
