Page 86 of Deathmarch
He shook his head. “Fluffy bunny. Sorry.”
“Hey!”
“It’s the hair.”
She patted down what stuck up. “My hair doesn’t like winter.”
He ran a hand over his bristly Marine cut, still grinning. “Be glad you have hair.” He shook his head. “Anything with that coffee?”
“What do you have?”
“Irish scones.” He turned to the counter behind him and used a napkin to grab one, set the giant scone on a plate, then put it in front of her.
“It’s not going to make up for the fluffy bunny comment.”
“You haven’t tried it yet.”
He was right. A single sweet bite had the power to make Allie a happy woman. “Mmm.”
He winked. “Irish scones can cover a multitude of sins.”
Their light banter made her feel comfortable and…at home? God, she was feeling at home in Broslin. At Finnegan’s! She must have hit her head harder than anyone suspected.
She cleared her throat. “Could you please tell me how much the bail bond fee was? Owing people money makes me feel uncomfortable. I’ll pay you as soon as the transfer for that performance for the Historical Society comes through.”
“You don’t—”
She held up a hand. “My father borrowed from everyone and owed everyone. I really appreciate how nice you’re being to me, Kennan. I don’t want to be…”
“You’re not Tony.” But he grabbed a pen and a napkin. “PayPal?”
She nodded and watched him write down the dollar amount, and below that, his email address. Then she thanked him again as she stuffed the napkin into her back pocket.
“Did you like the lunch Harper took up?” he asked.
Allie nodded.
“Good. A man takes care of his woman.”
She slid off her barstool. “Since you bailed me out, and you just gave me coffee, we’ll address the caveman undertones ofa man takes care of his womanlater. Thank you for the scone.”
“You’re welcome. But next time, please call down. It’d be no trouble to bring up anything. You’d give me the pleasure of watching Harper’s face when I told him I was up there with you making a home delivery.” Kennan’s eyes glinted with mischief as he slapped the dishcloth over his shoulder. “Want me to carry you upstairs?”
“No, thank you.” But she smiled at him. “I’m trying to regain my independence.”
She hobbled to the door and pushed outside, feeling better after the coffee and the sugar kick. Her ankle barely hurt. By tomorrow, she’d be back to normal, she promised herself as she made her way to Harper’s door step by wobbly step.
She was almost there when movement at the bread-delivery truck to her left drew her eyes, a man dressed all in black stepping into view.
Recognition knocked the air from Allie’s lungs.Aw, dammit.“Zane?”
She scampered toward the door, but didn’t make it before he reached her.
“You fucking whore.” He grabbed her by the arms. “Living with some asshole already.” He shook her, then lowered his head to hers until she could smell the beer on his breath. “I. Am. Not. Done. With. You. Yet.”
“You’re drunk.” Which surprised her. She’d never seen him down more than a can or two. Then again, what did she know about what he used to do when she hadn’t been around?
She shoved him. “That asshole I’m living with is a cop. I told him about you. He knows your name. He knows where to look if I go missing. You better get the hell out of here before he gets home.”
