Page 36 of The Ruthless Note

I’ve dealt with Dutch in his bossy-mode before. Although he’s growly, dangerous, and unpredictable, I can handle him.

Hunter doesn’t back down.

The temperatures rise even higher.

People are starting to take notice. Frankie is looking on through the window. The last thing I want is for this to get any bigger and put my job in jeopardy.

“Please, just drop it, okay?” I whisper to Hunter. My head is close to his cheek. His eyes turn and take me in.

I feel Dutch’s fury rising. When I glance over, his amber eyes are glued to where my hand is resting on Hunter's shirt. A cold, animalistic expression creeps over his face. His eyes meet mine like a sharp, jagged knife.

He hisses my name. “Cadence, tell your friend to calm down before things get out of hand.”

It’s not a request but a warning. One I feel all the way down to my toes.

Hunter raises his chin. “Leave before I put you out.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Is there a problem here?” Frankie appears at the table, his eyes darting between Hunter, Dutch and me. He’s wielding a spatula like it’s a sword meant to impale.

My heart sinks. In all the time I’ve been working here, I’ve never seen Frankie leave his station to come to the front. Not even once.

“No, Frankie, there isn’t.” My voice shakes.

“I don’t allow fighting in my establishment.” Frankie reminds me. “Cooper, get this under control.”

“I will.” I dig my fingers into my apron and hang my head.

Frankie cuts me another sharp look and returns to his kingdom behind the stove.

“Hunter, please. Just go.”

He’s still looking past me to Dutch, his jaw clenching.

I nudge him. “Your brother’s waiting for his burger.”

The mention of his brother seems to snap Hunter out of his daze. He straightens and looks down at me. “I’ll call you.”

“Yeah.”

With one more damaging look in Dutch’s direction, Hunter storms out of the diner. The bell jangles loudly behind him.

The kitchen bell dings.

The burgers are ready.

As I turn to get it, I see Dutch motion to his brothers. Finn and Zane get up from the table.

“Where are you going?” I ask, alarmed.

Dutch slams a hundred-dollar bill on the table. His eyes land heavy on mine and there’s darkness swirling in the depths.

“I lost my appetite.”

My breath gets trapped in my throat when I see a hint of hurt in his gaze.

I steel myself against it.

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