Page 14 of Xavier

“I don’t think so. Not yet, at least. I need to process and eat my feelings.”

“Have at it. What’s mine is yours. Call if you need anything. I have a new shovel that needs breaking in.”

“Thanks, Uncle Zach.” I laugh at his joke and turn my phone on silent before driving the few short blocks to the beach.

He’s always been protective of me, but it could be because he only has boys, and I’m the only girl in the family.

I park in the parking lot just as the first drops of rain fall to the ground. Of course, the storm is coming sooner than expected.

I jog to the front door and use my key to get inside. After making sure the door is closed and locked, I head to the kitchen.

The restaurant is clean, tidy, and all boarded up for the hurricane, but sitting on the counter is a half of a peach pie.

I grab a paper plate, plastic fork, and a slice of pie, leaving the pie tin on the counter in case I need or want another slice.

Hell, it might take the entire half of the pie to make me feel better.

I dig my fork into the pie and shove a huge bite into my mouth. The sweet flavor bursts on my tongue.

I’m not sure if he bakes these pies himself, but if he does, it’s a miracle he isn’t still married.

As if a good pie can keep a relationship going. I chuckle. Maybe that was my problem.

Less time in the kitchen and more time at work.

The front door rattles, and not from the impending storm. Someone is trying to get in.

Did they see my car and assume the restaurant is open?

Or worse, are they looking for me?

I shut off the lights in the kitchen and hide my plate of pie in the corner under another plate.

Before I can look for a hiding spot, the front door shatters open.

Chapter Four

XAVIER

Plenty of times the military has caused me problems, and not just because I was an idiot who liked to drink and party.

Being stationed in a foreign country with an American accent sometimes drew in the wrong crowd.

Pair that with excessive drinking and the tight military bond and you got yourself a bar fight.

Sometimes I started the fights, and sometimes I finished them. But each and every fight, my brothers in arms stood by my side just as much as I stood by theirs.

So it’s no surprise that Hudson is standing by my side now.

The police officer stares at my out-of-state license before glancing up at me. “Xavier Brown. Are you new to town or just passing through?”

“I’m new. I moved here a week ago.”

He looks toward Hudson. “Is he a good friend of yours?”

There seems to be more in his question, like he knows what Gunny and I did in the Corps.

“Yes, sir. He’s my best friend. He just retired from the Marine Corps and moved into Old Man Brown’s house. I promise he isn’t normally like this. Must be the storm.”

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