Page 1 of Fastlander Fighter

Chapter One

Sloane Middleson forced a smile at the man who held the door open for her.

Truth be told, she’d just had a good cry-session in her car before she’d made herself follow through with her plan and come in here to Moosey’s BBQ, where she would eat lunch at a table for one, be around actual people, and start moving forward with her life.

Ruger should be with her.

Just the thought of him had her closing her eyes and counting to five to steady out before she walked to the line to order food. This was the right thing to do. She’d made the right decision. It was right. Right. Right.

Sometimes being a good human got a person hurt.

She looked around the restaurant and took it all in. She’d heard nothing but good things about this place from everyone she’d talked to since she’d moved back to the area last month. If heaven sold barbecue, it would probably smell like this place. Her mouth was already watering. When was the last time she’d had a meal other than a TV dinner? A week? Two weeks?

She blinked hard and huffed a self-deprecating laugh. She’d made a goal to be more forgiving on herself. It had been a long damn year, and she was doing her best.

There were two women working the check-out counter, and a couple of younger men who looked to be high-school age gathering food for the two families putting in their orders.

On the back wall behind the counters, there was a row of smokers with vents to the outside. One was open and had rows of foil-wrapped meats steaming away. Sloane was staring at the steam, off in la-la land, when an enormous man covered her view of it.

Holy moly, his shoulders were as broad as a barn. He was tall, perhaps six foot five, and wore a pitmaster apron that tied at the waist and accentuated the deep V of his muscular torso. Probably lived in a gym outside of this job. Strike one. She’d dated a gym rat before, and his entire focus had been on himself and the other women in the gym. He turned and barked out orders to one of the high-school kids. The boy looked scared, scrambling to do his bidding and check a smoker of ribs. Strike two. She didn’t like the way he scared the young man. He’d probably been a bully growing up.

When he turned to say something to one of the cashiers, recognition struck Sloane like lightning. Her mouth fell open.

Holy. Shit.

She knew him. Strike three.

Captain Walker had grown into a behemoth of a man, and his chiseled jaw sported a three-day beard. He wore his hair different now and had just given her a flash of his profile, but that was him…right?

“Hello? I can take you down here!” the pretty brunette cashier called out.

Oh crap, the family was already done ordering and were completely gone. She’d probably been standing and staring at Captain way too long.

She should leave. She should turn around and walk right out that door and not have this moment with him.

“Miss?” the cashier asked, looking concerned.

Shoot. She was starving.

Captain said something curt to the high-school kid and then disappeared around the corner. Okay, she could do this. She just needed to order fast.

“Hey, hi, hello,” Sloane greeted the cashier as she scrambled to the counter. She stumbled through her greeting as she dug around her oversized purse for a pair of sunglasses to place over her face and hide from her high-school crush. “I need a meat. Some meat.”

“What kind of meat?” the cashier asked.

Where were her freaking sunglasses? Had she left them in the truck?

“Good meat. Um, do you have any recommendations?” she whispered as she hunched down to eye level with the counter and looked around the register to see if Captain was back.

The pretty cashier arched her eyebrows, leaned forward, and looked down at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yep. Absolutely yes. I just saw someone I knew a hundred years ago, and I need to order really fast,” she said quietly.

The cashier scrunched up her face. “Was it Captain?”

“Shhhh, he’s a shifter. He can hear you,” she huffed out on a breath. “Let me get…” She scanned the menu and shook her head, flustered. “Brisket sandwich, extra barbecue sauce, and lots of pickles. Fried okra, and a couple of pork ribs? Is that good?”

“Great choices. Anything else?” she asked, and bless that cashier, she was talking quietly and seemed to be helping block her from the view of the smokers. Girl code. This woman got it!

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