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A frown settled over Hank’s face as he watched the waitress leave.
Moe pushed to his feet. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me while I’m in Bozeman.” He held out his hand.
Hank gripped it in a firm handshake. “I’m glad you let me know you’d be here. It’s good to catch up with you. Since I had business in town anyway, it worked out.” He released Moe’s hand. “I need to get down to West Yellowstone more often. I’m glad to hear things are going well for our Yellowstone branch of Brotherhood Protectors.”
“We’re glad for the work and that you and your team came to our rescue when our government pulled out of Afghanistan.” Moe shook his head.
“You’d have done the same for us,” Hank said. “And you’re doing us a favor. We have more work than we can handle. It’s men like you, Stone, Carter and the others who have the skills needed to handle the missions that come our way.”
Bea returned, carrying a mug and a carafe of steaming coffee.
Hank settled his cowboy hat on his head. “I’ll leave you to your coffee. My wife will be happy I’m home tonight to help her with the little ones.” Hank tipped his hat toward Bea and strode through the tavern toward the exit.
Moe sank into his seat, his gaze on the former Navy SEAL.
Bea’s gaze followed Moe’s for a moment and then returned to him. “Are you and your friend in the military?”
Moe shook his head, his attention shifting to the waitress. “We were. Not anymore.”
“Thank you for your service.” Bea set the mug on the table and poured the rich, steaming liquid.
The scent filled the air. Moe inhaled deeply.
When Bea straightened, her smile was in place, if a little more reserved. “Is there anything else you’d like? My shift ends soon, and I don’t want to leave you hanging.”
Moe glanced around the tavern, noting the many empty tables. “Is it normally this slow?”
She shrugged. “On weeknights, the rush starts around five o’clock and ends near seven-thirty. People stop for a bite to eat and head home. Weekends are crazy with customers here until we close at two in the morning.”
“That makes for a long night,” Moe said.
Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I’m not complaining. The tips are good, and the people are usually friendly.”
“Do you work here full-time?” Moe asked, purposely delaying her. He wanted to see her smile like she had the first time when she’d lit the room.
“I normally only work the weekends. I’m filling in for one of the girls who called in sick.”
“Do you work somewhere else during the week?” he asked, curious about this petite red-haired woman with the moss-green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose.
Bea glanced away. “I have a day job during the week.”
“Let me guess…” He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “You’re a real estate agent, finding the perfect homes for your clients.”
Bea lifted her chin. “If I was, would you hire me to find the home of your dreams?”
“Absolutely.” He grinned. “If I lived in Bozeman.”
Her brow puckered. “You’re not from Bozeman?”
“No, I’m from San Antonio, Texas, where I joined the Air Force and let that fine establishment ship me all over the world. Sadly, I’m not from Beautiful Bozeman. I’m just here for the evening.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s too bad. I don’t know many people here, and well…it would’ve been nice to make a new friend.” She started to turn away with the carafe of coffee. “I’m not a real estate agent. Although I might give that a try if waiting tables doesn’t work out.”
“Wait.” He touched her arm. “You have to give me at least two more chances to get it right.”
Bea chuckled and turned back to him. “If you must. Go ahead.”
“You’re a private investigator, chasing after men cheating on their wives.”
