Greer grinned at Max, who gave him a quelling glare.
Kit shook his head. “Ivy, we’ve been warned that a woman was going to infiltrate our team. Your history, your profile, everything about you has been wide open for anyone to discover. If our enemies wanted to send an operative to get under your defenses—and through you to us—what better way than to send someone who reminds you of you, someone who immediately engages your sympathies?”
Ivy’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not good at this game you play…”
“It’s not a game,” Kit corrected.
She met his hard eyes. “I take people as they represent themselves. If she has anything to do with what’s going on, of course I’ll dismiss her. If she really is a scared girl who’s down on her luck, then I want to help her.”
“Val will go,” Kit said. He looked at the blond warrior who was still lost in his dramatic moment. “Strike up a friendship with her. Find out the truth…or at least come back with a gut feeling we can go off of.” He looked at Ivy. “Whatever he finds, we’re going to live with it, feel me? If she’s trouble, we’re handing her over to Lobo. I’m not putting you or the team in jeopardy.”
Ivy nodded. She sent a glance around the room at the guys. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.”
They stood as the meeting broke up. Val didn’t look even moderately interested in his assignment. His hands were in his pockets. “So, what can you tell me about your new girl? What does she look like? What shift does she work?”
“The dinner shift, one to nine. She’s of medium height. Reddish purple hair, kind of shoulder length.”
Max took out his phone. “I slipped a tracker in her purse when I was at the diner yesterday doing some maintenance on the cameras. If you want to run into her somewhere other than the diner, let me or Greer know.”
“She usually stops for a coffee a few doors down from the diner before coming in to work,” Ivy said.
Val put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the door. “I’ll let you know what I find.” He looked back at Kit. “I’m not as certain as you are that I can still trust my gut.”
*
Val spotted Ivy’s girl coming out of the tiny coffee shop straight ahead of him. All of his senses went on alert. A zing of anticipation rippled beneath his skin, across his back, and down his arms. He had no chance to catalog his reaction to her further because she was coming toward him fast, head down as she looked at her phone.
He managed to both trip her and catch her within a single motion. Her coffee went a few feet into the air, tumbled lid over bottom several times before exploding as it slammed into the pavement.
“Geez, walk much?” she snapped, pushing free of his hold. She turned and glared up at him, flashing lichen-green eyes at him beneath the rough fringe of her hair.
Val lifted his brows in an affronted expression. “I believe you ran into me.” He looked her over. “You okay? Did it spill on you?”
She looked herself over. “No.”
He retrieved the ruined cup. “Let me get you a replacement.”
She shook her head and held up a hand. “Forget it. Just forget it.”
He picked up the empty cup and lid, then tossed it in the trash. “If I don’t get you another, the rest of my day will be a wreck. Cheating a woman out of her coffee is like taking ice cream from a kid; it’s just mean. C’mon. Come back in with me and order a replacement. On me.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed, masking their shocking color. “So you admit you ran into me…”
Val smiled slowly. “Maybe. I tend to lose track of my feet if one of them isn’t in my mouth.”
That got a little smile out of her. He noticed her canines were angled slightly. And sharp. In fact, all of her was sharp angles. Her chin. Her shoulders. Her brows were dark and overly thin, enhanced with a narrow pencil into an artificial arch. Her nose was straight and narrow. Her box-dyed punk auburn hair blew about her oval face, emphasizing the haphazard way it was cut, as if she’d chopped at it herself. Her eyes were outlined in black, giving her a hint of goth. She was waif-lean and stood in jeopardy of having the stiff breeze blow her away. She looked urban and out of place in podunk Wolf Creek Bend.
She lowered her gaze, but not before he caught a flash of emotion from her. Pain. He frowned.
“Fine. Let’s just get that coffee,” she snapped. She went back to the shop and yanked the door open, neglecting to hold it for him. He followed her inside, watching her walk. Her jeans were skintight. She wore a cheap pair of canvas slip-ons.
At the counter, Ivy’s girl—Ace—looked at him, then at the menu board, then selected the largest, most convoluted coffee beverage possible, complete with several customizations. Val ordered a house coffee. And he had the cashier warm up two ham and cheese croissants.
“I’m not eating with you,” Ace said.
He paid for their order. “It’s not for you.” He looked at her. “One for me and one for the homeless guy on the corner by the market.”
She looked out the front window toward the market.
“Just kidding. There are no homeless people here in Wolf Creek Bend.”
Her eyes met his. She blinked. Pain. Like brass knuckles slamming his chest. The hell with Ivy and the team; he wanted to know her story for himself. He was a sucker for a woman in need. He could see why Ivy had had the reaction she did.
Because of the special twists she’d ordered, his coffee and sandwiches were served first. He waited with her.
“You can go.”
He grinned. “Dismissing me?”
She bunched one side of her mouth. “Just feeling protective of this cup of coffee. Don’t want to get tangled up with you and lose it again.”
“Probably a good call.” He nodded toward the apron she was holding, the uniform for servers at Ivy’s diner. “Look, do you have a minute? I thought maybe we could have our coffee in the garden area. Have you seen it?”