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Hoyt’s voice was quiet and level. “I’m sorry as can be for the Busbys’ loss. But blaming innocent people for whatever happened to Gwen isn’t gonna bring her back. Stop stirring the pot, Banks.”
“Whatever. We can think what we want. Ain’t no law against opinions.”
“Then keep to sharing your fucking opinions in private.”
“Or what?” At the combative tone, the restaurant fell almost silent.
“Or you’ll have me to deal with.”
What?
Ed Cartwright emerged from behind the bar looking like an extra from Jaws with his wiry gray beard and piercing blue eyes. “Banks, Hoffman, you’re cut off for the day.”
Chet puffed up. “We didn’t do anything.”
“You’re being a dick, per usual. Out. Unless you want your drinking privileges permanently revoked.”
With fulminating glares, Chet and Marcus rose from their chairs, draining their beers and stalking out. Not until they’d disappeared to the parking lot did I register I was shaking, my fingers clutching the order pad so tight, they’d gone white at the knuckles. Releasing a long, slow breath, I willed them to relax.
“You okay?”
I lifted my gaze to Hoyt, who’d stepped in front of me, effectively shielding me from the view of curious onlookers with his bigger bulk. All the temper was banked now, replaced with concern. He’d defended me. Defended my family. No one on Hatterwick did that. Well, not other than Rios’s friends. Hardly anyone else dared go against the court of public opinion. But here was this man—my high school crush—doing exactly that after not seeing me for half a decade.
I had no idea what to do with that.
“Thank you. You just made a couple of enemies there.”
Hoyt’s shoulders twitched. “Couldn’t call them anything else to begin with.” His gaze continued to search my face, looking for… what?
Ed joined us. “Drinks on the house for you two. Caroline, take a minute.”
“I don’t need one?—”
My boss fixed me with a steely glare. “Take a damned minute.” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, completely at odds with his hard tone. “Please.”
With one last glance at Hoyt, I wove my way through the tables and disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen, away from prying eyes. Inside, I dropped onto a stool in the corner.
Bree brought me a Coke. “Here. It’ll help with the shakes.”
I wrapped both hands around the glass lest I drop it.
“Looks like Hoyt’s in the right profession.”
“What?”
“Hero through and through. You should totally rethink your no dating policy.”
I didn’t answer, and she left me twisting in the whirl of my own thoughts.
Why had Hoyt done that? Just because it was the right thing to do? That was the kind of guy he’d been in high school, so I guessed he hadn’t changed that much. But… why me? Why defend me? Did it mean something? Maybe I just wanted it to mean something because it had been so long since anyone outside my small circle had seemed to give a damn.
When I’d pulled myself together enough to go back to the floor, the McNamara brothers were gone, but I found an absurdly large tip left on the table. I pocketed the money and stared out toward the parking lot.
If I wasn’t careful, that high school crush was going to turn into a brand-new grown-up version, one I suspected would be a whole lot bigger.
3
Hoyt
