Page 39 of Three of a Kind

Chapter Twelve

Brooklyn

“We need Maverick,” Gunner says, swiping a tattooed hand over his face. “He’s always better at this stuff than I am.”

“What stuff?” I ask a little incredulously.

“Communicating, having a conversation, that kinda thing.” He sighs. “I know you have a daughter. I saw the two of you at the grocery store.”

I stumble backward, frowning as it clicks.

The jacket or hoodie, whatever outerwear he’s wearing…

I recognize.

“You saved Libby?” I can feel my face contort in confusion. “You work for Avan?”

“Fuck, no,” he growls. “My entire job is taking down dickheads like him.”

“Did you and Maverick purposely approach me that night because of my ex?” I ask, retreating even farther. “Were you trying to find a way to get information on him?”

“God, no.” He moves quickly, wrapping his forearm around my lower back. “Careful, you were about to run into the counter.”

“Thanks.” I try to brush away his hand because his forearm is resting against my baby belly, but he doesn’t release me.

He’s not aggressive with his touch. It’s not triggering my flight-or-fight response. I just can’t afford to let him find out about the baby, especially since I’m still not convinced that he doesn’t work for Avan.

“This is complicated,” he says, running his fingers over my lower back. “But if Avan is your daughter’s father, I’m guessing you know Bless.”

My eyes widen, and I nod before I can stop myself.

“I work with Bless.” Gunner stares straight into my eyes as he speaks. His dark hair falls over his forehead as his jaw clenches. “It’s a new thing. When we met you the first time, Maverick and I were only here to visit my family. After a few days of searching for you, we had to head back home to get back to work.”

“Where do you normally live?” I ask, trying to keep from melting into his chest.

Holy crap.

He smells delicious, like rich coffee with hints of hazelnut.

It’s incredible.

And, somehow, my system forgot how attracted to it I was the first time around.

Huh, maybe I blocked it out for self-preservation.

“Virginia,” he says, startling me out of my musings. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I agree, trying to force myself to pull back.

My nose is obsessed with his scent to an unhealthy level. He doesn’t say anything as my face plasters to the coarse material of his coat.

“Like I said, it was by chance that we met that night. This evening is a different story. Bless put me and Maverick on duty, watching Lennox.” He runs his hand up and down my spine over the material of my sweater. “I’m sure you saw her when she was here to grab coffee. I came in to check that she didn’t disappear out a different exit, but the night shift took over?—”

“Brooklyn,” Amanda calls from somewhere near the front of the store. She’s one of the baristas for the coffee shop. “Are you okay? It’s almost seven-thirty.”

“Oh, shit,” I hiss. The bookstore closes at seven, but the coffee shop is open until nine on Saturday.

“I’m good. Just finishing up,” I call back, stepping away from Gunner. “I have to close the store and get my kid.”

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