I got the order for Caleb’s coffee and Ezra’s regular iced tea, then wound my way back toward the kitchen area.
On this side ran a bar, done in the same gray wood as the booths, one half with six high stools where patrons could sit, and to the left of it was the bakery display case and coffee bar. Behind it were counters and the swinging door that led into the kitchen.
I went behind the bar and got to work on their drinks, taking a quick glance at Beth, my manager on staff today and also one of my best friends. She was leaned into the display case, restocking chocolate chip cookies that had just come out of the oven.
“Do you need anything?” I asked her as I worked.
“Nope,” she said. “Think we have everything handled. Food is coming out fast and customers are happy and these cookies smell like heaven. Can’t get better than this. I don’t know how you do it, but what comes out of your oven is pure magic.”
“I need to have something going for me,” I teased.
“Oh, you have something going for you, all right. And every day they just get better. Think half the restaurant is hypnotized by the smell. You just keep doing the good work, and I’ll take care of the rest. Well, except for your man over there. You go take care of him because I don’t think there is anyone else who can do it.”
She angled a waggish brow at Ryder’s table, her dark eyes gleaming and her red lips pulled into a massive smirk.
I groaned at her. “Don’t you even start.”
Beth never failed to give me crap about Ryder.
“Don’t you start. That boy is here every other day, hanging around like a puppy dog, nothing but a mutt begging for food.”
“Um, yeah, he does come to eat,” I drew out.
“Looks to me like you’re feeding him the wrong thing.”
I followed her line of sight to catch Ryder staring our way before he turned his head back to something Caleb said.
“Hardly.” I scoffed it as I focused on organizing their drinks on a tray because what she was insinuating was totally absurd, all while I fought the tingly sensation that billowed across the room.
Picking up the tray, I started around the counter, and she hollered after me, “You keep trying to convince yourself he’s not salivating for a taste of that cute butt of yours.”
I cringed.
Awesome.
She’d announced it to half the restaurant.
No doubt, someone was currently calling my mom to speculate just who was salivating.
And I wasn’t sure my butt could be called cute. There was a whole lot of junk in my trunk, but I did have to admit it looked pretty damn good in this dress. The red fabric shifting around my thighs and the v of the neckline dipping between my breasts.
My gaze fixated on the table I was walking toward. The three of them were some of the closest people to me in my life. Still, I always felt like I was chasing down a storm every time I stepped into Ryder’s vicinity.
The man his own brand of chaos where he sat there looking both raw and smooth.
I didn’t know how it was possible, but he made it look easy.
Stepping up to their table, I passed out their drinks. “Here we go.”
A round of thanks went up, and I eased back, doing my best to ignore the energy that forever vibrated from Ryder.
Intense and severe and somehow effortless.
Enigmatic.
Entrancing.
I cleared my throat. “Do you know what you want to eat today?”
“Tell me more about that Monte Cristo,” Ryder said, turning the full force of his attention on me.
I fiddled with the end of my ponytail. “Well, I can’t take credit for this recipe since it’s pretty traditional—ham and swiss stuffed between two pieces of French toast, dipped in batter, and deep fried, then coated in powdered sugar and served with a side of homemade raspberry jam.”
Even still, it was freaking delicious. Done my own special way because I’d never serve something mediocre or mundane.
Apparently, Ryder agreed with the philosophy, because he groaned and scrubbed an inked palm over his face. “Fuck me. Sounds so good, Dakota.”
I had to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape.
Why did it always have to come out like sex on his lips?
“It seems like you want me to feed you.”
So maybe I was going to keep some of those fantasies, and I couldn’t help but play off what Beth had said, loving the way those eyes were taking me in like he didn’t want to look anywhere else.
He let go of a rough chuckle. “Thinking that’s exactly what I want.”
Tingles spread, prickles that kissed along my flesh.
Sometimes he made me think…
A menu suddenly slapped down on the table, and I jerked to find Ezra grinning my way. “Hell, yeah, give me one of those, too. I’m not about to pass that up.”
“No reason to change a good thing,” Caleb agreed.
I gathered their menus then dipped my head. “All right then, three Monte Cristos are on their way.”
“Thanks, Dakota.”
“Always,” I said as I turned to head back to the kitchen to put in their order.
I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but there was something that tripped me up.
Stalled me out.
Something I caught out of the corner of my eye at the very edge of the windows that ran the far side of the building.
A shadow or a shape or a figure.
Disquiet washed through me.
This penetrating awareness that covered me in a sticky film of dread and sent a cold shiver curling down my spine.
One blink later, it was gone.
I blinked more, uncertainty filling me as I stared out the window overlooking a grassy area backed by trees.
Nothing was there.
I shook myself out of it, realizing I had to have been seeing things, making it up, and I wound back through the tables, pushing through the kitchen door to the bustle of activity on the other side.
Paisley was right—I was really letting those true crime podcasts get the best of me.
SIX
RYDER
I couldn’t help but watch Dakota walk across the dining room, the way she weaved between the tables, offering smiles to the customers she recognized as she went.
Red fabric flowed around her hips and swished around her lush thighs, the woman this force that was hard to look away from.
But I hadn’t missed the shift in the air. The way she’d stumbled and froze a beat.
But when I’d looked behind me, I couldn’t find anything amiss.
I shouldn’t worry so much, but I guessed I’d spent so much time in that role, thinking I needed to watch over her, that it came as second nature.
She was more than grown, though. She was strong and fierce and successful, and I needed to remember she could do a whole hell of a lot better without me.
“So, how’s it going?” Caleb’s voice jerked me out of the trance, and I returned my attention to the table as I took a swig of my iced tea. Swore to God, my mouth nearly exploded with the taste, chunks of fresh strawberries coming up through the straw, the perfect blend of sweet and sour.
Thought that it was the perfect analogy of Dakota. The woman who was all shy blushes then could turn around and knock you flat with the teasing glint in those cinnamon eyes.
“Good,” I told him. “Things are going great at work.”
It was true.
I’d gotten a ton of legitimate contracts recently. Custom pieces I was proud to create.
A burning need had lit inside me to turn all my focus to that.
To end this sentence.
This penalty.
My mind spinning with possibilities on how to break the bonds.
But I knew what it would take.
It would be the fight of my life.
That I’d be putting it all on the line.
Risking everything.
Likely signing my own death certificate.
But I couldn’t go on this way.
Ezra shifted in the booth next to me, the cushion creaking with his large frame. “Nice to hear you’ve been busy, brother.”
“Yeah.”
“Good thing. Keeps you out of trouble.” He arched his brow as he took a sip of his tea.
If he only knew.
Having a cousin as a sheriff and living the life I’d lived wasn’t exactly easy. I always felt like scum, lying to him the way I did.
Hiding.
Pretending.