They entered the small diner and seated themselves in a padded vinyl booth. Clinks of silverware on sturdy plates and murmurs of patrons filled the restaurant. The warm scent of fresh eggs, waffles, and sizzling breakfast meats made Kiera’s mouth water.
She stared out the diner window into the morning sky that had turned as gray as Jake’s eyes. The silence between them hung like the low clouds, heavy, uncertain, waiting for change.
The waitress bringing their coffee—and water, of course—provided a welcome respite. She took their order and dropped it with the short-order cook.
Jake’s gaze never stopped moving, outside, around the restaurant, and back to slide past her, over and over. It wasn’t lost on Kiera the way he had kept his big frame partially covering her back as they entered the restaurant, and how he stood at the end of the table until she sat. It also wasn’t lost on Kiera how he had picked a booth where he could sit with his back to the wall. He had moved the thigh-strapped gun to his lower leg where it was concealed by his pants. Before getting out of the Jeep, he had pulled his leather jacket on and kept it on, hiding the chest harness and gun there.
He seemed twitchy. Did it have to do with the stuff he injected into his arm last night? Maybe he did have a medical problem like Mateo. She had more questions than answers. Given his tight-lipped response to even the mildest query, she wouldn’t get a response.
She studied him from under her eyelashes. His broad shoulders took up all of the space in the booth across from her. Every inch of his body vibrated with coiled strength.
He drummed his thick fingertips on the table until he snapped his steel gaze up to her. He stopped tapping and pressed his palms into the fake wood finish.
“So how’s your family?” he finally spoke.
Her jaw must have dropped.
One side of his mouth lifted as he raised a hand. “Truce. We were friends once.”
If by friends he meant lovers, then sure, friends.
“Thought you would want to plan our next move,” she said.
A big breath made the leather jacket creak. “Already mapped out. Factored in time to have breakfast. Then we’ll move on to the next steps.”
“I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t.” His face relaxed into a big smile. “I did enjoy talking with your folks when you and I dated back in the day. Your old man was a little intimidating, though I guess it wasn’t personal. I didn’t get a chance to talk much with him at Brady’s funeral.”
Because she and Jake were too busy … consoling one another. Her face heated up.
The muscles in her neck and shoulders loosened as she sat back in the booth. “He didn’t like any of us kids dating.”
“No kidding.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Brady was protective, too. During our time in the service, he always talked about you and your sisters. I felt like I knew your family better than my own.”
A nicer, more conversational Jake? Talk about a curveball. Okay, then. She would accept the proverbial olive branch. “Dad’s still a postmaster. Might retire in another five years.”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’ll have enough years with the postal service then. Mom and Dad were pretty young when they got married.”
His mouth twisted into a scowl. “Because she was pregnant with Brady?”
“Yes.” A kick from Little Bit encouraged her to change the topic. “You remember Mom passed away from breast cancer a while back.”
“Yeah. I was sorry to hear about it. I knew she’d fought it years earlier, too.”
“She was diagnosed around when I graduated high school. Then the cancer came back two years ago in a more aggressive form. She died a few months before Brady. I think she worried so much about him after his injury. Maybe affected her own recovery.” She shoved her hair back behind her ears. “It was a rough period.”
“Man. Your mom and then Brady. Hell of a one-two punch for the McNeill family.”
Damn how the hard lines of his face softened, almost like he cared. Those gunmetal-gray eyes made something inside of her melt. Made her want more of this closeness. Damn it. Her defenses were far too low where Jake was concerned.
Lifting a shoulder, she continued. “We got through it. At least Mom had us all around her at the end.”
His gaze tracked out the window, toward the parking lot, then back to her. “How about your sisters?”
“Britt is finishing college in Atlanta this spring.”
“Still premed?”
Kiera chuckled. “Not even close. Joke in the family is that undergrad was the best seven years of Britt’s life.”
The rare sight of his grin made her heart flop. “What major did she finally pick?”
“Last I heard, she was finishing up at Savannah College of Art and Design, but on the Atlanta campus. Something about needing to be in a location where she can ‘feel the pulse of the fashion world.’” She lifted her hands, palms up.
“A fashion designer?”
“This week, yes.”
He lifted his coffee cup. “Long may it last.”
“You got that right.” She took a sip from her own steaming mug of decaf.
“What about Reagan?”
“Big sister is still nature girl, working in the Smokies. All flannel-clad, rugged, and tough as usual. Works at the camp as a year-round outdoor education instructor. Self-reliant to a fault.”
The sounds of cookware and murmurs of staff and diners filled the silence for a moment. “So, what about your mom?” She cut the question off as soon as she asked it. “I’m sor—”
Raising a palm toward her, he interrupted. “It’s history. She was my mom. With all her erratic behavior and manipulation.” He cut her off again when she opened her mouth. “Look, can we talk about something different? I don’t want to dwell on my crappy past.”
Trying to ignore the fact that she was part of his crappy past, Kiera looked anywhere else but at Jake. “So, what are our next steps?” she asked after a minute.
He stared at the table. His mouth went tight, and he fingered the car keys, which rested on the smooth surface. “I texted my CO, Hunt, before you and I left this morning, and he’s prepping the team.”
“You had a cell phone? Isn’t it traceable?” Mateo had drilled into her not to carry any personal tech devices.
“Burner phone that was turned on for the sole purpose of sending one message. Don’t worry, I ripped the SIM card out and destroyed the phone.” He palmed the keys and shoved them in his pocket. “For now, you and I need to kill time until everyone gets to the compound. They’ll ensure it’s secure before you arrive.”
“It’s not?”
Gaze roving the half-empty diner, he lowered his voice. “You’re the source of information we need to take down Fallen Comrades. Morpheus Squad needs to remain secret. Lequire’s on the hunt. We have to increase our base level of security.”
“That’s what it’s called? Morpheus Squad?”
“Shush. You can’t know that information, by the way.”
“Why is it so top-secret?”
“Can’t tell you.”
She pretended his statement didn’t hurt. He had his secrets and she had hers. Fair was fair.
He continued. “Yes, we have a secure compound, but the guys need to be certain the tightest security measures are in place.”
“Where are we going?”
“Our compound.”
“Nearby?”
“Somewhat. Look, as much as I’m hardwired to go over every minute detail of this plan with you, I have to keep the location secret.”
Her head shot up as she peered at him. Being excluded by Jake hurt. “You don’t trust me?”
The intensity of his stare made her blink back tears.
“Of course, I trust you.” He dropped his gaze. “But I also have to regain the trust of the team. Us. Me.” He huffed out a lungful of air. “It’s a thorny issue.”
“Clearly.”
When he ran his thumb over his cup handle, the tiny movement made her swallow. Then he tapped the table with a knuckle. “Meantime, we have some work to do on you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, you strike me as more of a dark brunette.” The lines around his eyes crinkled as he shot her an equilibrium-tilting grin.
She gripped the table edge. “What?”
“We’ve got to change your hair. You stand out like a sore thumb.”
Tugging self-consciously at the strands, she ducked her head. “I kind of like my hair.”
“Me too,” he mumbled.
She whipped her head up.
A muscle popped in his jaw. His pupils dilated. Then he blinked, breaking the spell. “It needs to be changed so no one recognizes you.”
“Is that part of your plan?”
“Yes.”
Taking in his dark-blond hair, she pointed. “How about something like your color?”
“No.” He tipped his head to the side. “A deep chestnut color would go better with your natural tones and highlights.”
She nearly snorted her coffee. “I can’t believe those words came out of your mouth.”
“I’ve read my fair share of fashion magazines, trying to understand women…” He clamped his mouth shut.
There it was, the past which never quite went away.
Fortunately, the waitress brought their food, rescuing them from more awkward conversation. Kiera spent the next few minutes devouring bacon, eggs, and hash browns. Her baby wiggled in happiness. Great. A big breakfast kind of kid.
They finished the meal in relative peace. The sounds of customers’ low voices and the hum of traffic on the nearby highway mixed into relaxing background noise.
After a trip to the restroom, she met Jake at the cash register.
His frame had gone stiff, shoulders tense beneath the leather jacket. By some trick of the light, he had grown bigger. Broader. In a slow, too-casual movement, he pivoted his head toward the door.
“What?” she whispered.
He stared out the bank of glass windows and the glass front door and placed his hand on the small of her back, rotating so she stood partially behind him. His murmur was for Kiera’s ears only.
“We’ve been followed.”