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Stormy
“I wouldn’t have you here if I thought you were in danger,” I tell her.
“You say that but your eyes are darting all over the place,” she challenges.
I lift her hand, the one that’s now wearing my ring, and press my lips to her skin.
“I’m always like that.”
“I can feel the tension in your body,” she says, continuing to argue with me.
“Okay,” I cave. “I’m a little nervous about being out in the open, but most of Cerberus as well as all of Blackbridge are here to make sure everyone is safe.”
We decided to let the kids stay back in Farmington while we came to Lindell, Texas to show our support for the community.
Honestly, everyone at Cerberus was shocked to be invited to the memorial they planned. The men who opened fire at a wedding reception blamed their actions on Cerberus and a job we’d done that wiped out their organization. The community could’ve easily blamed us as well, but they were nothing but gracious to us even in the hours right after it happened.
They lost two people that day, and Cerberus returned home whole, yet they haven’t held a grudge.
“Having a good time?” Kalen asks.
I slow blink at the man. A good time probably isn’t something someone should expect at a memorial, but hell, if the groom whose wedding reception was shot up can smile, then I guess we can too.
“It was a lovely memorial,” Mila says, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“When is your wedding day?” McKenna asks, noticing the ring on Mila’s left hand.
I stand a little taller beside my fiancée.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” she answers. “We just got engaged last week.”
McKenna nods in understanding, her hand going to her rounded stomach. “I had so much fun planning our wedding, and the town offered so much help.”
I keep my eyes moving through the crowds, making sure there’s nothing crazy going to happen. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Mila.
I see several of the guys talking to Cash, the town’s police chief, and Walker, the guy who owns the bar. Walker looks fine, but the others look like they regret some of the decisions they made last night. Their green faces are reminiscent of Mr. Dobbs’s face when he had food poisoning not long ago.
“Oh hell,” Kalen grouses.
“What is it?” I snap, on high alert.
“Beth Moore,” McKenna says, laughter in her voice. “She and Kalen have history.”
“We don’t have history,” he argues. “And she should be named Beth Too Much because the woman is more than a little crazy.”
“She’s a little eccentric,” McKenna offers.
“A little? We made out once years ago and by the next morning, she had already registered for our wedding.”
Mila huffs a laugh and my eyebrows skyrocket at his explanation.
I look over and see the woman he’s talking about walking toward us, a bright smile on her face. What shocks me the most is the way she has her arm laced through Oracle’s bent arm.
As they step within speaking distance, Oracle grumbles, rubbing his hand over his face.
“What is going on?” I ask, so damn confused as I stare at his hand.
“Hon, aren’t you going to introduce me?” Beth says, her eyes beaming with what can only be described as maniacal joy.
