Page 18 of Knight's Fall

When the twins were born, he and Kat chose to step back from KSI, helping out on occasion as advisors or support staff. Wings hated being in the same house as those two and the twinsters, as he’d lovingly nicknamed Hannah and Lilah, but he had to admit he was envious of Tristin’s set-up. The whole wife and kids living in a home of their own — even if that home was built with more security measures than a superhero’s secret lair — had started to appeal to Wings more than he would ever admit to his buddies.

His leg started to throb, and he grabbed the cane at his side to support his weight as he stood. His therapist told him to rest when his leg pained him to help with healing, but pain made him restless. He chose to walk it off instead, to fight through the discomfort.

Whatever discontent he was feeling, he was in no position to change it now. His focus had to be on getting back in shape to rejoin his team and to finish the renovations on his house so he could move on to the next one.

Flipping houses was just a side business for him, one he fell into by accident. After the unexpected sale of the first house, he’d decided to try flipping the next one. When he’d finished renovating the second house, he realized how much satisfaction he gained from the work, so he continued with the pattern of buy, renovate and sell.

He completed most of the work himself, and he’d gotten pretty good at construction. Not being able to finish what he’d started with this house only increased his frustration.

The neighborhood was quiet as he stepped out on the deck. The sun was settling lower in the sky, no longer shining bright and warm overhead. He was surrounded by homes to the sides and back, so he knew he’d never want to stay in this home. When he stopped flipping houses, he imagined getting himself a solitary lot surrounded by acres and acres of land with not a neighbor in sight. He would build a home from the ground up, adding all the touches he’d grown to like as he worked on houses.

Even with that in mind, he had to admit he would miss this house. The few neighbors he’d met were kind, and even the quirky woman whose backyard butted against his wasn’t so bad. He rarely spoke to her, but they were cordial when they were outside at the same time.

At least she wasn’t angling for the two of them to hook up. From what little he’d been around her, he pegged her as someone who attracted drama like a magnet. As cute as she was, he wasn’t looking for any of that in his life.

He moved to sit in a deck chair but paused. Something nagged at him, and he gave his yard and the parts of the neighborhood he could see another sweep with his eyes. Then it hit him.

In the time he’d been in rehab, dust had collected in his home, but his lawn was trimmed with no weeds in sight. Someone had mowed the lot in his absence. He doubted BB or any of the others thought to mow his yard, which only left his neighbors. Most of them were older and hired someone to upkeep their lawns. So who would have taken the time to mow his yard or even notice that he’d been gone longer than usual?

It had to be one of his team. He had no idea when they’d found the time to do it. When Sydney came by to get a few of his things, she’d likely mentioned it to Panther, who then took the idea and ran with it.

He then realized the faint knocking sound that was echoing in the quiet. It was coming from his front door. BB had barely left and already his friends were back to check on him. As considerate as that was, he’d almost decided not to answer. He was finally alone and spared from their hovering concern. But they knew he was home and likely wouldn’t leave until they saw firsthand that he was okay.

He hobbled back inside, calling out for his visitor to hang on since he was on his way. When he opened the door, he wasn’t expecting a delivery man from one of the food delivery app services. The guy held out two sacks of food, practically shoving them in Wings’ arms.

“Here’s your order, man. Have a good day.”

Wings pushed the bags back into the delivery man’s arms. “I didn’t order anything. Wrong house,man.”

The guy showed the ticket that was attached to one of the bags. It had Wings' address written on it, and above that in neat handwritten print was “Wings.”

“It’s your address, right?” The guy continued before Wings could confirm he had the details correct. “Look, man, it’s paid for. Just take it.”

This time Wings held onto the bags and watched the guy leave before turning to go back inside. Looping his arm through the bags’ handles, he hobbled into the kitchen and unloaded the food onto the counter. A burger and fries, an order of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and an uncooked chicken pot pie with instructions written on top of the container for freezing, defrosting, and cooking at a later time. They were all specials he ordered often at the diner. The familiar aromas awakened his appetite, reminding him of just how long it’d been since he’d eaten.

Damn, BB, he thought. Just when he thought his friends had finally left him alone, they found a way to meddle again. He placed the pot pie in the freezer and the meatloaf container in the fridge. Then with a beer tucked under his arm, the burger container in his hand, he carried it to his recliner. Once he settled against the cushions, his legs raised as they were supposed to be, he dove into the still warm meal.

The burger and fries were cooked just as he liked with all the condiments and toppings he typically ordered. As much as he wanted to yell at his friends to stop smothering him, he was glad they knew him well enough to know just what to order.

There was time to scold them later. For now, he would enjoy the meal and the quiet.

Chapter Ten

Courtlyn pulled the frittata from the oven and placed it on the trivet. She turned to pick up the cast iron skillet full of cornbread batter and slid it into the hot oven. Closing the lid, she adjusted the temperature and set the timer. Without pausing, she picked up the large spoon and stirred the rich beef stew simmering in the pot on the back burner. Then she moved to the order ticket waiting for her on the counter — egg white omelet with a side of turkey bacon and whole wheat toast. A good health-friendly breakfast special that she’d added with Mr. Fielder in mind.

The older man recovered from his heart attack and was home with his wife. They had only made a trip to the diner once since he’d been discharged, and Mrs. Fielder made a comment about all of the unhealthy items on the menu. Courtlyn took it upon herself to rectify that by developing a handful of dishes that catered to those with heart issues or diabetes or digestion issues like celiac disease. Tabby loved the options and added them to the menu instantly. This was her first order from the heart healthy side of the menu, and she couldn’t resist looking through the order window to see if her favorite customer was there.

She didn’t see Mr. Fielder. She saw only the usual regulars, none of whom would order off the special menu. There was the stranger sitting at the counter alone. He read a newspaper, which was odd since most of their customers stayed on their cell phones or talked with each other.

His graying brown hair was thick and unruly, and his mouth was drawn as he read. Silver wire framed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. She couldn’t gauge his age. His face had the lines of someone who lived life, but his clothes showed a fit body of someone who took care of himself. And his order off the healthy menu supported that assumption.

She cooked the meal while she finished her preparations for lunch. She plated the breakfast order and was about to call for Sissy to pick it up when her nemesis’ face appeared in the order window.

“Cover for me, will ya, Mac? I’m taking my break.”

“I have your order.”

“You can bring it out while I’m on my break. Your legs aren’t broken. The breakfast rush is almost over, so what else do you have to do?”

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