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“Raemy,” he bit out before he could think better of it, and her name in his mouth was not helpful. “I don’t know what you’re doing here. I don’t know what you want.”

“Just now,” she said, looking at him curiously, as if he was the problem, “I was wondering if you’ve been into the Water Witch. Because it’s adorable. It’s so cute. I’m going to get my tarot cards read later this afternoon, which is delightful. Don’t you think it’s delightful? Has anyone read your tarot cards?” She wrinkled up her nose again and someone was going to have to start issuing citations. “You don’t strike me as a tarot kind of guy.”

“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” he growled at her. “I can’t pretend to have this kind of relationship with you. I’m the man who ruined your family. Have you been in an accident? Do you not remember that?”

She was smiling still, but there was something different in her gaze then. Something a little harder, maybe. More focused.

“Are you the one who blew him up?” she asked, not exactly flatly. But she threw it out there, all the same, and it was harsh. It was meant to be, he could see, and he had always considered himself unflappable—but he flinched. “Was that you, Noah? Because I was pretty sure the official report stated, unequivocally, that it was enemy forces.”

“We shouldn’t have been there.”

“Were you acting on your orders? Or did you receive orders from someone else?” she fired back, coolly.

He slammed the lid of his laptop closed. “Once again, I appreciate you coming here. I’m happy to tell you details about William’s time in the Marines. But I can’t... This isn’t...”

“You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was quiet. Intense. “I mean, it looks like you can and you do, but I don’t blame you. My parents don’t blame you. And I think we both know that if William was alive, he would never have blamed you.” That damned smile again. “He idolized you. You were his hero. He used to write us letters that were all about you and how he hoped that when he was older and further along in his career, he’d be just like you.”

“He never got a chance to do that, did he?” Noah gritted out, because it was the right thing to do. He had no idea what she was doing, but he knew what was right. “And that is my responsibility, because I gave the order that put him in harm’s way. So...”

She folded her arms over her chest. Then she did something with her head that made it seem like she was taking in the whole of the diner with one glance. “I thought all of this was a good thing. The diner. The halfway house of it all. But is it just...?” He didn’t like the look she aimed at him, then. “Is it penance? Are you punishing yourself, Noah?”

And the worst part of her asking him that question was that he wasn’t alone in the diner. Tank was in the back, baking for the afternoon rush, something Noah was entirely too aware of when he heard something drop. And a very badly muffled bark of laughter.

He could feel his jaw clench.

“I hope you never know what it’s like to have to do the kind of penance you’re talking about,” Noah said, after a minute. “I really do.”

Raemy wasn’t smiling any longer. “I don’t believe in penance. Especially not for sins you haven’t committed. But you said you wanted to talk about William.”

He blinked at that. Then frowned. “I said I would talk about William.”

“Same difference,” she replied, because she was a maddening, impossible woman. “Great. Let’s have dinner.”

“Dinner.”

He saw that smile drag on one side of her mouth. “Yes. Dinner. It’s a meal that people like to eat at the end of a day. Maybe you haven’t heard of it.”

“Why do you want—” He shook his head. “I don’t⁠—”

“Fantastic. It’s a date.” Then she laughed at him. “Don’t worry, I know where you live.”

And then she was back at the door and leaving the diner, like some kind of comet streaking across his sky, and what the hell had even happened?

He didn’t have time to dwell on that, however, because there was very pointed, very obnoxious, slow clapping coming from the kitchen. From Tank and Crusoe. Even Jeremiah, who should have been concentrating on getting orders out. And even, if he wasn’t mistaken, from his grandfather’s octogenarian buddies in the corner.

“Good to see you have that killer game going for you, buddy,” came Tank’s drawl. “Way to make that happen.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Noah replied, and that was the closest to cheerful he got all morning.

Then he cracked open his laptop, glared sightlessly at the emails in his always overfull inbox, and wondered how the hell he was going to survive the curse on his life that was Raemy Miller.

4

Raemy showed up at his door, rang the doorbell, and waited with what she could only call a deep and abiding glee for the sounds of him inside, because the grumpier he got, the more she felt compelled to do things like…insist on dinner.

She also liked cats. What could she say? She liked to win over the cantankerous creatures.

And she only got more entertained when she heard what sounded a lot like some spontaneous wrestling had broken out on the other side of the door. There was a crash. A loud thump and a few very male grunts. Then another loud thump, and this time, it shook the porch she was standing on.