Only for You

Table of Contents

Books by Collette Scott

Title/Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Coming Soon

About the Author

Books by Collette Scott

Forever Sunshine

Hannah’s Blessing

If We Dare to Dream (The Evans Family, Book One)

Through Winter Skies (The Evans Family, Book Two)

Eyes on Tango (The Evans Family, Book Three)

Kat’s Last Chance (The Evans Family, Book Four)

Terri’s Gift (The Evans Family, Book Five)

Cooper’s Choice (The Evans Family, Book Six)

Sunshine Rising (The Evans Family, Book Seven)

Hope is Calling (The Evans Domination, Book One)

A Blessing in Disguise (The Evans Domination, Book Two)

Deception’s Kiss (The Evans Domination, Book Three)

Finding Roxanne

The Coming Storm

Only For You

By

Collette Scott

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2015-16 by Collette Scott

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

For information address Marimay Publishing, P.O. Box 11821, Tempe, AZ 85284

ISBN-13: 978-1537659244

ISBN-10: 1537659243

ISBN – ebook: 9781370642984

Chapter 1

They’re here…

Waitress Debbie Hernandez spoke in a singsong voice, drawing out the words slowly and tauntingly as if she enjoyed tormenting her friend and employer. Aimee winced, believing with certainty that she did. From her perch at the corner of the bar, heat suffused her from head to toe, and it threatened to turn into a flush when the bartender, Hagan, glanced up from polishing the counter and chuckled. After one glance at her warning look, he shook his head and returned his attention to his task with his lips curved in amusement.

Aimee scowled over her shoulder at her grinning friend. Do you have to be so loud?

Debbie shrugged, and her large, brown eyes scanned the restaurant negligently. Her gaze settled on several of the regulars in turn, lingering on the closest patron briefly before discarding him with a shrug. Jeffrey Norton’s nose remained buried in the tablet he was reading and seemed not to notice them at all. No one heard me.

There’s a shock, Aimee muttered. Instead of teasing me, why don’t you do your job and seat them?

Although her voice was curt, Aimee could feel her hands drift self-consciously to her hips, and she wiped her moist palms down her skirt while she glanced into the bar mirror to make sure she looked presentable.

Debbie laughed, easily brushing off her boss’ reprimand. Stop it, Aim. You’re as gorgeous as ever. Just look busy and visit them after I have their orders.

Nodding obediently, Aimee slid off the stool and gathered the shipping slips she had been reviewing. As she spun around to head to her office in the rear of the restaurant, she heard Debbie greeting their patrons. Almost immediately, she felt the heat of a stare on her back, and it was so hot that she had to battle the urge to fan her face with the slips. Whew, but it was intense. Then again, he was intense. Not only was he too handsome to stare at for any length of time, but his entire demeanor made her shiver with a blend of intimidation and attraction. Everything about him was overpowering, and it was a good thing her back was facing the dining room because the heat finally exploded into a blush from the force of his stare.

It was difficult, but she took a deep breath to slow her racing heart and stiffened her spine in her best model imitation. She wanted to appear dignified and graceful as she walked away, but of course her nervousness caused her to slip on a tile. When one functional two-inch heel slid out from under her, she hastily reached out and grasped the edge of the bar to keep from falling.

You okay? Hagan called.

Her cheeks flamed even hotter, and she hastily regained her footing before anyone glanced over and saw her awkward stance. Damn them both, she thought mutinously, shooting Hagan a venomous look that would rival her infamous sister’s in shrivel factor.

I’m fine, she assured him in a voice that sounded fairly smooth considering the inner turmoil that had her stomach bunching up in knots. Please make sure no one spilled anything.

Without confirming Hagan’s acknowledgment, she escaped to the safety of her office, making a mental note to chastise both employees once the new diners departed.

After closing the door, Aimee tossed the shipping slips on her desk and groaned out loud. She pressed her hands against her flaming cheeks and grimaced when she felt the heat there. This was ridiculous. She really needed to regain control. It was not like she was some high-school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team. She was Aimee Lemieux, restaurateur and darn good chef in her own right, sister to a supermodel – okay, so they were not close, but still – and popular hostess with plenty of friends. As famous for her friendly demeanor and ready smile as she was for her beauty, Aimee had her fair share of admirers. In fact, she had rejected too many to count over the years.

However, none of that mattered when she was in the company of one man. None of those other men made her feel as uncomfortable, hot, and nervous as the one man who appeared not to know she existed… let alone like her.

Out of her most loyal patrons, Rick Ballard was her largest paradox. From the moment he entered her establishment with her best friend, Ray Laurencio, Aimee felt as though she had fallen face first into a deep well of swirling, confusing emotions that made her heart flutter, her palms grow moist, and her mouth go dry whenever he was near. There was no reason for it. In fact, aside from a polite nod and thank you when they were done eating, Rick rarely acknowledged her. Yet she could no more stop her traitorous emotions than she could prevent her cat, Kitty Meow Meow, from purring. It was… baffling.

After taking a deep breath, Aimee focused on recapturing her legendary cool. She could not linger much longer. Hiding in the office would only made Ray come in search of her, and the idea of the two men leaving without her viewing Rick’s inscrutable, brooding pale-blue eyes was unthinkable. Not seeing those deep-set eyes made even more striking framed by thick, black lashes and dark eyebrows was heart wrenching. Not watching his lumberjack hands grip his utensils while in serious conversation with Ray, or glimpsing his strong, square jaw as he chewed his meal was nearly as panic inducing as her fear of water.

Scowling, Aimee realized that she was conjuring the mysterious detective from her fantasies. Again. It was shameful. After all, he was just a guy… A guy who did not care if she was there or not.

Though her heart was still rumbling like the engine of a sports car, she inhaled deeply and plastered her famous smile on her face. She could do it. She was Aimee Lemieux, charming, friendly, and gracious hostess of Aimee’s Italian Bistro, beloved owner of the most romantic and quaint restaurant in Old Town, San Diego. Everyone loved her, and she was pining away for a man who did not care that she existed…

Fanning her face one last time, she straightened her skirt and smoothed her pale-pink blouse around her waist. There was no time like the present to visit them, and Aimee was no coward… well, except around water. But there was no water here, and the desire to see Rick outweighed her fear.

Treading more carefully this time, Aimee returned to her stool at the bar to gather courage. Sure enough, Ray and Rick were seated at their usual table, and as always, Rick’s back was facing her. She drank in the sight of the broad shoulders encased in his immaculate suit jacket – black today, hmm – for a moment before shifting her gaze to Raymundo Laurencio, her best friend. It was almost as though he had been waiting for her, for he grinned broadly as soon as she met his gaze. Yet when Ray’s bright smile appeared, Aimee swore she saw Rick stiffen. Suddenly, he seemed taller in his seat, more alert and tense, and she slipped off her stool and approached slowly out of fear of his disdain. The only thing worse than him not knowing she existed was him disliking her.

Hey, beautiful, Ray said in greeting, rising to press a hearty kiss on her cheek.

Though her smile felt forced, Aimee managed to meet Rick’s stare, but only for a second before her traitorous gaze drifted down his broad chest to his starched white shirt and black-and-red striped tie.

Detective, she greeted him smoothly. Proud of herself for sounding so cool, she turned to Ray before Rick even had a chance to nod in response. Hey, Ray.

You’re looking hot today, gorgeous. He was still grinning, his large white teeth glowing in his honey-colored face. How are you?

Since yesterday? The same, she replied dryly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick holding his utensils at the ready and wondered why he was not digging in to his chicken parmigiana considering he rarely joined in their conversations. Usually he sat quietly and observed, his keen eyes and sharp ears taking in their every word. Aware that his gaze still rested on her, she forced her smile to remain in place.

Did you get your car fixed? Ray continued.

She nodded, surprised he remembered. Of course, she should have known. Ray was a cop after all. I ran it down this morning. It passed inspection with flying colors. They said it was probably a faulty sensor or something on the machine. She shrugged. I dunno.

Glad to hear it.

When Ray glanced at his plate eagerly, she grinned. Happy looks like that never failed to make her day, and her chest filled with pride whenever someone appeared excited to consume her recipes. However, it was even more special when Ray and Rick appreciated it. Although she fed them for free, she foolishly hoped her food would earn her a spot in Rick’s good graces. Somehow, some way, she wanted him to notice her…

Knowing a good hostess would grant them privacy to eat, she began to straighten, but Ray reached out and grasped her hand. Don’t go yet. Visit for a while. You’re always working.

He continued to hold onto her hand, tugging on it one more time before she relented and slid into the booth beside him. Even then, he seemed determined to keep her close, for he began eating with one hand. She felt Rick’s stare when Ray’s arm dropped comfortably around her shoulders to tuck her into his side, but he remained silent while Ray asked pointed questions about her hours. A part of her wondered what he was up to, for he knew her schedule almost as well as she did, and a glimmer of hope that he was doing it on Rick’s behalf made her flush all over again.

Enough of the high school dreams, she thought, abruptly changing the subject. Are you fresh out of court? You’re looking spiffy today.

Yeah, long day, Ray said with a sigh.

Rick inclined his chin.

Rough case?

Typical, Ray said with a noncommittal shrug. You know how it is.

Actually, he did not talk about it much, but she nodded sympathetically nonetheless. Her establishment had so many regulars because of her easy-going manner and perfected people skills, and she put them to use then. Placing her free hand lightly on Ray’s knee, she lowered her voice to the appropriate compassionate level. I’m sorry.

Though Ray nodded with another smile and changed the subject again, Aimee spotted Rick’s frown. When she turned to him, it disappeared immediately, but he continued holding his utensils at the ready as if he was waiting for her to leave.

Despite her best intentions, her gaze lowered to his long fingers, and she wondered if his hands would be smooth or rough to touch. Then she slammed the door shut on that line of thought when she began to feel hot again. It was a good thing that Ray was dominating the conversation, for she nearly made a fool out of herself. Really. What was she thinking? How could she allow her thoughts to go in that direction when he was less than two feet away?

She raised her gaze and found him watching her expectantly, and a new flush began to creep up her neck. She was caught. Not only that, but he was not going to eat while she was there.

Her heart sunk.

Aimee knew how to take a hint, and distracting them from their meal was the last thing she wanted. Despite Ray’s protests, she slid out of the booth and somehow managed to rise as gracefully as her supermodel sister. I’ll get out of your way so you can enjoy your meal while it’s warm. I see you’re having the chicken parm, Detective. Is it a favorite?

Facing the direct question, he was forced to meet her gaze, and she almost forgot to breathe when he swept her from head-to-toe before meeting her flustered gaze. He set his fork and knife aside and sat back with a short nod. I enjoy it… very much.

Considering the chicken parmigiana was one of her favorite recipes, Aimee wanted to beam in pride. However, the smooth, deep timber of his voice sent shivers down her spine and distracted her from the casual compliment. Fearing another Aimee moment, she remained brief. I’m pleased.

Good job, buddy, Ray piped in with another cheerful laugh. That’s one of hers, and Aimee loves it when we like her recipes.

Immediately, Rick’s attention returned to Ray, and Aimee felt a surge of irritation toward her friend for stealing him away. He had actually looked at her and spoke to her directly. She can rest assured I like mine. He glanced at his plate. Well, I would if I ate it.

Laughing in his deep, boisterous way, Ray grinned at him. Then eat, bro. When he returned his attention to Aimee, his laughter tapered off. One look at her dismay made him none-too-gently kick his partner under the table. Idiot. You embarrassed her.

Oh, no, no, Aimee protested quickly, but even she could hear the stiffness in her voice. With a parting nod at each of them, she clasped her hands in front of her and backed away. I hope your meal meets with your satisfaction. Enjoy your afternoon, gentlemen.

I’m sure it will, honey. I’ll call you later, Ray said with a parting wink.

In her haste to escape, Aimee nearly stumbled again. However, she made it back to her stool feeling silly yet managing to appear as collected as normal. With a sigh, she lowered her chin to her palm and glanced around for a moment, knowing she should continue her rounds since she just left a table. However, two of her regulars were eating, and neither had looked her way when she returned to her spot. Although different in every way, both men made her uneasy in some capacity. Though she did her best to remain polite, some days were more difficult than others. Like today. Irritating the sexy detective was the last thing she wanted, and chatting it up with her other patrons was unappealing since she had just earned another notch in Rick’s dislike belt.

Meeting Hagan’s eyes across the bar, she shrugged when he sent her a sympathetic smile. Didn’t go so great, huh?

Why do you say that? Aimee hedged.

Your scowl for one, he teased with a follow-up wink. And your brief stay at the table. Ray usually keeps you chatting, boss.

Though it was difficult, she bit back her disappointment. I guess it wasn’t in the cards. I’m destined to have a bad day.

Apparently.

I think they are, too, she continued with a thoughtful glance at the table. Normally, Ray and Rick talked while they ate, but it was serious and somber over there. Not for the first time, she wished Ray would open up about his work. That he disliked speaking about it disturbed her, and she knew Ray’s wife, Bethany, despised his silence, too. Apparently, it was par for the course, and the best she could do was make their meals as enjoyable and stress-free as possible, even if it meant staying away. Detective Ballard did not want her company, and he was making it more obvious every day.

Drawn from her musing by the sight of Debbie appearing from the kitchen, Aimee slipped off the stool again. I’d better run before she catches me.

Hagan nodded, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. Now’s your chance. Hustle...

Taking his advice, Aimee glided back into the dining room, and she was in her role of gracious hostess before she passed Ray and Rick’s table. She almost forgot their presence altogether as she visited her other diners. Well, she might have if the heat of Rick’s stare was not ever-present on her back. It made her wonder if he disliked her so much, why did he watch her? Did Ray speak about her in some capacity while they dined? The feeling of his stare made her acutely aware of the way his pale-blue eyes seemed to gaze right through her when he watched her with Ray, and it confused her all the more.

Cursing him in one breath and hoping that meant some interest in the next, she did her best to charm, please, and entertain her diners. Her restaurant, Aimee’s Italian Bistro, was her livelihood, and it would be foolish to allow the handsome detective distract her from it. Though it was hard, she forced him out of her mind – for the moment at least. She had work to do.

****

September 27th

My angel… She was the most beautiful creature. So breathtaking that it hurt his eyes to gaze at her. She was a beauty but not in the classic, fairytale image. Rather, it was one of vibrant life, of the joy and happiness that sparkled in her pale hazel eyes and shone in her thick, sable-brown hair as dark as the richest Damascus coffee. While her hair was always elegantly swept away from her face, he knew it was luxurious, with long strands that would run through his fingers like a flowing silk river of nearly-black strands. He could feel it now in his mind as he watched her glide from table to table as she did every day. A hand would perch on her hip, her weight would come off one leg, and occasionally she would slip out of one high-heeled shoe and flex her weary foot when she thought no one was looking.

Though she did not realize it, he was looking.

He was always watching.

One day, he would hold those dainty appendages in his hands and massage away the hours she spent in those dreadful shoes. He would insist she never wear those damning things again, and she would gaze up at him with adoration for his brilliance and agree as she whispered words of love for him.

Smiling slightly, he returned his attention to Aimee when her hand unobtrusively slipped to her shoulder while she conversed with a table of four men in suits. Though her smile never faltered and her laughter remained the same joyous sound he adored with all his heart, he sensed her tension. As if confirming his concern, he watched her fingers dive under the base of her twist to begin a slow massage of a knot in her shoulder. It was a move only he spotted; a pain only he felt as if it was his own.

This was not the first time they shared the same anxiety. Ever since she smiled at him for the first time, he knew they shared a connection, and it convinced him that they were meant to be together. She felt it, too. He saw it in the way she saved her special smile for him. They might not have declared their feelings for one another, but he knew her feelings ran deep for him as well. It glowed in her eyes when she spoke to him.

If she was not ready to announce it to the world, he could hardly blame her. As soon as she admitted to everyone how she felt about him, her conversations with the other diners would be less flirtatious, and perhaps a few of her regulars would give up hope of ever winning the calm, cool, and collected beauty for themselves.

Not that she ever led anyone on. Of course, she would never do that. If anyone dared overstep their boundaries, she remained chaste and pious while she let them down firmly yet gently. She was suave, and even the firmest withdrawal was done with a smile. That was how special she was.

He knew everything there was to know about her because he loved her the most. Those flirtatious men laughing boisterously and devouring her with their eyes would delve under their covers that night with images of her in their overstimulated brains, but they would never know the real Angel. As soon as her long day at the restaurant was complete, she would go home and stroke her cat before she fell into bed to prepare for another long day. Some would say her life was lonely, but he knew better. When he arrived, her face would light up, and she would linger at his table for a few seconds longer than the others.

Soon.

Her existence would not be solitary much longer. It was almost time for him to rescue her from the life-sapping career she had chosen. And rescue her he would. As soon as he tweaked his plan to woo her properly. She was waiting, and he was nearly ready.

Smiling again, he stared at his empty plate with a thoughtful expression. Soon she would no longer have to plaster a smile on her face to appease the men that entered the restaurant with the sole intention of leering at her and flirting unabashedly. Of course, she remained gracious. That was one of the things he loved most about her, but the way some of those men treated her infuriated him so much that he would end his meal with rage seeping from every pore in his body. In those moments, he would have to retire to his home and bury his nose in the Scriptures he loved so much and pray for forgiveness: for him, for feeling so outraged, and for her, for having to play along with those disgusting individuals making a mockery of her femininity. Lastly, for the men who so disrespected her.

Like the table she was presently visiting. They were no different from the others. Repulsive, every one of them, for making a mockery of the rings on their fingers by flirting so shamelessly with such a sensitive, gentle, and honest woman. The woman he had chosen to be with him forever.

She belonged to him. She was his.

He could not wait to show the world his angel.

Chapter 2

Have a nice evening, Judge Andrews, Aimee said with a gentle nudge of the chubby man’s arm to gracefully guide him out the door.

You have a great night too, my dear, he said with a paternal smile and a smothered belch.

With another smile, Aimee shut the door behind the cheerful old man and his still-silent wife. It was hard to imagine that the Santa Claus-appearing man was one of the toughest judges in the court circuit, but she was glad he was such a loyal diner… even if he lingered long after last call.

Another exhausting day done, Aimee inserted the key in the lock and twisted it with a weary sigh. As soon as she felt the deadbolt settle, she turned and leaned her head against the door. Feeling all eyes upon her, a slow smile spread her lips until her white teeth flashed for what felt like the millionth time that day. As her gaze fell on each employee in turn, the smile turned into a grin. Finally, with a short nod, she slowly and carefully reached for the pins holding her twist in place and removed them one by one. When her dark hair spilled around her shoulders, she shook it out among good-natured cheers and jeers.

Laughing, she reached up with both hands and shook out her curls. Let’s do this!

The French traditional music that had played during dining hours was replaced with hip hop, and the volume was cranked so loud that Aimee wondered if the entire street could hear it. However, after their long workday, she hardly cared. They deserved to clean up in the most enjoyable manner possible. As Debbie reappeared from the office, Aimee bent to slip off her heels and replaced them with far-more-comfortable flip flops before returning to the bar register and running the evening tally while Hagan cleaned and scrubbed it down with a jaunty hum. Debbie, Marina and their sole busboy, Pete, cleared and restocked the tables, while Aimee’s prize chef, Bill, worked in the kitchen. With a skill born of countless evenings in much the same manner, she watched her small group handle their side work efficiently before focusing on her tasks. Though her staff was lean on the midweek day, Aimee was pleased to see how much they had pulled in. Feeling some of the tension from earlier in the day ease up from that surprise, she continued grinning while her foot tapped relentlessly to the music blaring through the surround-sound system.

Day went well? Hagan asked when he spied her glee.

Well, it coulda gone better, she drawled. However, her smile remained when Hagan rolled his eyes.

It was a good day… Bending to scoop up his bin of dirty dishes, he winked as he passed. Unless you’re counting your epic fail with the detective.

Aimee groaned. I had forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me.

Ever since you turned me down, I live to torture my boss.

Aimee’s eyes narrowed. That’s it. I’m putting an ad out for a new bartender.

Good luck, he replied with a laugh. I also remember telling you that I was irreplaceable when you turned me down.

Aimee shook her head as her handsome bartender carried off the bin with the ease of one accustomed to exerting his muscles. Though he jested, she was aware that Hagan’s feelings ran deeper than boss/employee. Her cardinal rule was never to date one of her employees, and she did not want to risk ruining their professional relationship by mixing business with pleasure. Nevertheless, she could not help but wonder if he would jump at the chance even though she knew he felt the same way. After her epic failure that day, maybe a romp with a man who truly cared for her was the answer. Perhaps if she actually let off some sexual tension instead of continuing on with her lonely existence she would not feel so attracted to the dark, handsome detective who remained aloof and even disdainful toward her.

She watched Hagan disappear into the kitchen, taking in his over-the-collar blond hair and the tight-fitting T-shirt hugging his bulging muscles with an appreciative smile and a mental note to remind him to wear pullovers rather than casual tees as she squashed all thoughts of seducing him. Hagan was a great bartender and friend, and she would never ruin both by suggesting a casual encounter.

Stop molesting the help, Debbie said in an overly loud voice.

He glanced back with a wink. Ladies, looking is free. Everything else will cost you.

Aimee poked Debbie in the ribs, but her comment was directed at Hagan. Actually, I was thinking that our irreplaceable bartender needed a reminder to wear more business-appropriate clothes, or I will have to put an ad in the paper.

And get a haircut, Debbie piped in.

They heard Hagan’s groan, but the swinging door hid his inevitable scowl. Aimee and Debbie shared a look before laughing cheerfully.

Those giggles might be indicative of some form of sexual harassment, Hagan whined when he returned. Through the open door, Aimee could hear Pete and Bill snickering.

The boys don’t see it that way, Debbie said, tossing her loose, curly black hair over her shoulder haughtily.

They would. They’re not on the receiving end.

Aimee was all innocence. Just dress well. That’s all I ask.

He approached and ruffled her hair. Yeah, like I believe you...

Debbie nudged Aimee. How well he knows us, huh Aim?

I suppose.

Okay, enough of the sexual harassment threats, Hagan. This lady needs a cold one, Debbie said, dropping down onto the stool next to her and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

How could I forget? With an exaggerated batting of his lashes, he pulled a bottle of Blue Moon out from under the counter and expertly removed the cap. Forgive me, my lady?

I shouldn’t be drinking, Aimee said regretfully.

Nonsense. It’s one beer, and we still have an hour at least.

Debbie nodded. Agreed, but I’d prefer wine myself.

Hagan spun around, and Debbie leered at the view of his taut jean-clad backside. Nice.

Stop staring, Hagan warned as he drew down a half-empty bottle of red wine. With exceptional skill, he grasped two glasses, twirling them between his fingers until Aimee cringed.

I’ll stare as much as I want. I’m not your boss, Debbie replied saucily.

Hagan’s fair eyebrows lifted, and he turned to Aimee. You’re hearing this, right?

Who told the entire restaurant I slipped?

I was concerned, he objected.

Hmm… I saw and heard nothing, Aimee replied with a wink.

Seriously? It’s always ‘gang up on Hagan’ here. You sisters stick together.

You love it, and you know it. If you didn’t, you’d be in the back helping Pete and Bill so we can all go home, Debbie scoffed as she reached for the glass he held out to her.

He scowled as he glanced around. Where’s Marina?

Done and gone, Debbie said.

Hagan rolled his eyes. Always the last one here, and the first out the door. Why do you put up with that, Aim?

I can’t fault her if she chooses not to socialize. She gets her work done, and that’s all that matters to me. Taking a sip of her beer, she peered at the two over the rim. Unlike you, who milk the clock by staying and socializing with me.

Debbie chuckled. We stay because we love you.

Hagan nodded in agreement. She’s right. We can’t leave you to close up alone.

Aimee could not deny that their words pleased her. With a famous sister she rarely spoke to, reluctantly at that, and a cousin who had disappeared into the mountains in Arizona after a horrible accident, she did not have much family to speak of after her father died. Her aunt and uncle never fully got over the death of their son and the destruction of their daughter’s beauty and career, so Aimee secretly considered her employees the family she had lost. Aside from her childhood friends, Ray, Rod, and Pico, they were all she had, and she was thrilled that they felt the same even though they relentlessly teased each other. Unlike her friends, they did not harass her to date or parade obnoxious suitors in front of her. They understood how much her restaurant meant to her and respected her for it. What more could she ask for?

She was opening her mouth to say as much when the buzzing of her cell phone jostled her from her potentially effusive declarations of affection. She glanced down with a frown.

Take your time. Debbie reached for her glass and slipped off her stool. I’ll go check on the boys out back.

And leave me alone? Hagan griped. I’m coming, too.

Aimee’s frown faded when she saw Ray’s name, hoping all had not been lost that afternoon. For some reason, whenever she spoke to Ray, he gushed about his new partner, and she admitted that learning something new about him sounded appealing at the moment. Though it was not unusual for Ray to speak so candidly, this time it seemed as though he knew Sergeant Rick Ballard’s entire life story – well, most of it at least – and was intent on sharing it with her. Hi, Ray.

Hey, gorgeous. How’s it going?

Exhausted but good. How about you? It’s late for a social call.

Ray chuckled. I’m behind in my chores, and Bethany reminded me sternly that I was supposed to call you.

I know that feeling, she said with a sigh.

Bad day, too?

Nothing a beer can’t fix, she said lightly, staring at her hardly