He grabs my hand from his jaw and slides it across to his lips, kissing my palm before lowering it, still holding on at our sides.
“I love seeing you build your life here, and I want to do that too. But I do need to know you’re safe.” He steps closer, enough that I feel his warmth. His other hand circles around my waist, resting on my lower back.
“And if I’m not?” I whisper.
His jaw tenses. “Then I’ll do something about it.” The weight of his words settles between us. Dangerous. Unwavering. A promise. “I have security, I have people, I have resources.”
I shake my head, half a laugh escaping as I blink back the burn behind my eyes. “You can’t just fix everything by throwing money at it.” I know Sutton is wealthy, but money isn’t going to win this battle; it’s what started it all in the first place.
His fingers brush my wrist, just barely. “No, but I can make sure you never have to face it alone.”
I swallow roughly. “You don’t know what you’re taking on.”
“No. But I know you’re worth it. Just like those bee stings will be. As long as you’re happy and with me.”
My body warms as he releases my hand and I run my hands up his arms, all the way to circle his neck. Moving his other hand to my waist, he lifts me a little, holding me flush against him as I stand on tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips.
And just like that, my heart splits wide open for him. Sutton Silvers, the man I never saw coming, and the one I can’t imagine ever letting go of.
“You look like the cat that got the canary this morning,” Rochelle comments as I step back up to the counter, setting the coffeepot down. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that dashing movie star you’ve been spending time with?” She cocks an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.
“Movie star? I don’t know any movie star, certainly not here in Whispers.” I grin wide, and she laughs.
“Well, just be careful, darlin’. A man like that could sweep any woman off their feet.”
I pause, my smile dimming. “I’m being careful.”
“I know. I’m always here for you, sweetheart. The sheriff and me. You need anything, you come to us.” Her look is pointed, and I nod, feeling like the world is slowly encasing me in a warm hug. First, Sutton and now, Rochelle. She’s the closest to a mother figure I’ve had in a long time.
“Thank you, Rochelle. For everything.” I give her my thanks often, but I really want her to understand that giving me this job, offering me extra food, looking out for me, it’s all made such a difference.
She gives me a warm smile, and I know her door will always be open for me.
“Now, speaking of the sheriff, I need to go deliver him his lunch. That man can’t make a sandwich if his life depended on it. You okay here on your own for half an hour?”
I glance around the diner, seeing it’s pretty quiet. The cook went home already, and the other waitress is on her lunch break. The lunchtime rush is over, so I know I’ll be fine. One person’s finishing up their coffee at the counter, a few others just leaving. I look at Sutton’s vacant booth. He’ll turn up in the afternoon at some point.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her.
She pats my arm and walks out the back with a delicious pastrami sandwich and a cookie for her husband. It’s sweet that she still makes her husband lunch every day. I don’t know their story, so I’m not sure if they grew up here or landed here some other way. They have no children, but the love they have for each other and this town is big enough to make everyone feel welcome.
As the back door closes behind her, I wipe down the counter and fill the coffeepots, then start to sort the trash into recyclables. It’s not something Rochelle did before I arrived, but now, I separate them all, and she takes them to Williamstown for recycling, getting a nice little rebate that she can spend any way she wants.
The door chimes, bringing me out of my thoughts, and I turn with my smile, ready to greet customers. Only, my smile falters when I see who it is. The same group of men who took my bag. Subconsciously, my hand lifts to my face, the black eye they gave me now long gone.
“Hello, sugar.” One of them looks at me hungrily before he gives me a wink, and along with his three friends, they slide into a booth at the front of the diner.
I swallow, my stomach twisting in knots. I’m not often at the diner alone, but on the few occasions I have been, it’s been quiet and non-eventful. I already know that today is going to be different. Shivers run up my spine as I grab a few menus, and rolling my shoulders back, I walk over. The smell hits me instantly. It’s like they came straight from a bar. The strong stench of liquor, and not the good kind, settles around them.
“After some lunch today?” I place the menus on the table in front of them. Then the other customer finishes up his coffee. I watch helplessly as the older man walks out, leaving me here, all alone, with these four men.
I don’t have a lot of experience with unruly men. I never rode the subway, never really walked the streets outside of the Upper East Side, and even then, I always had a bodyguard. We flew private and had town cars. It wasn't until Mom died and I went to college that I had more freedom while living on campus, but instead of going out dancing on weekends or shopping with friends, I was back in New York, trying to sneak into our family home to get to Preston.
“I could eat,” one of them answers as he licks his lips, his legs spread wide, taking up most of the space around him. Sitting like a king holding court, he’s the ringleader of this crew, as the others merely sneer and smirk.
“Specials today are the vegetable soup, a beef pot roast and, of course, Rochelle's famous chicken pie.” I list off the specials like I do for every other customer. Even though my heart is hammering in my chest, the thud of it loud in my ears.
“Speaking of, where’s Rochelle?” He looks behind me, his eyes darting around the diner.
