Page 1 of More Than Nothing
Chapter 1
Elenie
“Best place in town for breakfast if you can put up with being served by scum.” The bristles of Chief Roberts’ porn-star mustache rippled with familiar contempt. It had an entity of its own which was often mesmerizing, but today it made barely a blip on Elenie’s radar. She was too busy casting furtive glances at the hot stranger on the opposite side of the table.
Pulling the notepad from her apron pocket, she smoothed her face into a blank mask and hoped the spring on her hair clip would last to the end of her shift. She could feel it weakening; a few sun-lightened strands of hair tickled her neck where they’d escaped.
“Hello, gentlemen. D’you know what you’d like to order?” Her stomach pitched and flipped, and she objected on principle. Elenie couldn’t afford to be a pitch-or-flip kind of person. Sweeping the stray curls behind one ear with the end of her pen, she waited.
All coiled energy and loose limbs, the chief’s breakfast companion had an intense, angular face and espresso-dark hair. His graphite gray tactical pants and polo shirt were casual but immaculate—America’s Next Top Model in the latest Police Issue Workwear catalogue. He was magnetic. Compelling. She could swear the air crackled around him. Something about the way hewatched her made Elenie feel like she had been dropped into deep water from a great height.
And his forearms. Bronzed skin, corded muscles, strong, lean, capable. Don’t start her on the forearms or she’d be fangirling like a sixteen-year-old.
She swallowed. Eager to keep as low a profile as possible, Elenie made sure her own appearance whispered, “Nothing to see here”: bistro apron tied over knee-length skirt, burgundy short-sleeved shirt, scuffed sneakers. Uniform faded but clean, nude lips and minimal makeup. But however hard she tried, it was impossible to slide under the radar of the police chief’s disdain.
“Elenie Dax.” A mix of derision and disgust coated her name on his lips. Elenie resisted the urge to squirm, but it was tough. The diner’s bustle and babble continued around her, mingling with the country music station she’d tuned into at opening time. “One fifth of Pine Springs’ biggest vermin problem. As you’ll find out.”
Low on charm, light on team-playing skills and manners, Chief Roberts was a bullfrog of a man. Always curt, he usually stopped shy of blatant offense, but not today. Not in this company. Drumming stubby fingers on the table, his puffed-out chest pulling the buttons tight across the front of his shirt, Roberts was bursting to make some kind of an impression on his new buddy.
“I can give you a couple more minutes if you’re not quite ready?” Elenie could feel her ears turning red and hot. Her eyes on her notepad, she channeled professional efficiency through every inch of her body, armor and shield clanking securely into place. She reminded herself that she dealt with people like the chief every day. She could write a thesis on jackasses.
“No need. I’ll have the pancakes and black cherries, please.” Mr. Sexy Forearms had a voice as rough as sand on marble. She felt it like fingertips down her spine.
“Same,” growled Roberts. “With a side of bacon and coffee. And make sure it’s hot. Don’t leave our plates sitting on the counter.”
“Of course.Grozna si kato salata.” To take the only petty revenge she could, Elenie fell back on her favorite form of stress relief, sliding in a foreign insult she hoped she’d get away with—unless the hot stranger was Bulgarian, of course, but it didn’t look likely.
Roberts drew wiry eyebrows together. “No, just the pancakes. If I wanted salad, I’d have asked for it.”
His companion made no comment.
Bulgarian for the win. So satisfying.
“Coffee for you too, sir?” It took everything she had not to stammer.
“I’ll have a hot tea, please. With milk.” One side of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. He should carry a license for that. She allowed herself to catch his eye for less than a second (no more, in case her notepad combusted) and met a shrewd and shuttered gaze.
Well, what do you know? Other people have armor too.
“Coming right up.”
Tearing the order from her pad, Elenie clipped it beside the kitchen hatch and grabbed the next selection of plated breakfasts from the counter. Handing them out to a couple with two small children, she noticed another of the booths had filled while she was busy, and stifled a groan.
What fresh hell was this? Not only did she have Chief Roberts to deal with this morning but her stepbrothers too.
Tyson and Dean lounged bonelessly on the padded bench seats either side of a corner table. A brunette in a shaggy yellow jacket that made her look like Big Bird pressed up against Ty, and one of their more cretinous friends, Vince, made up the foursome. Watching Vince pretend to snort three crystal lines of white sugar through a straw, Elenie estimated he’d be behind bars within six months.
“Friends and relatives.” She kept her voice flat and low. “What can I get you today?”
Tyson, eldest stepbrother, moron and bane of her life—twenty-five to Elenie’s twenty-seven—was a mixture of stupid and nasty that often exploded into violence. A recent barbershop visit had left him with a severe buzz cut at odds with the facial hair he’d left to grow into a short, patchy beard. Elenie eyed the tattoo of a death moth which spread down one side of his neck and disappeared into the grubby collar of his t-shirt. More ink lay beneath it, some better crafted than others. She dreamed of the day he’d come home with a spelling mistake in his latest creation, which no one in their house would notice but her. Not as tall as he’d like to be, Tyson made up for it in attitude. He thought he was a ten. She’d give him a two and a half at best.
Wincing at his loud and guttural sniff, Elenie chewed on her pen, well aware Ty was keeping her waiting just to be a dick. The diner was busy; he knew she was under pressure.
“Get us a Coke float and three chocolate milkshakes,” he grunted finally.
A quick sweep of the room told her no one was listening, and Elenie couldn’t resist messing with him. “I’ll need to see your ID to check you’re old enough to order those.”
Dean and Vince looked confused; the brunette frowned.
