I’d long ago gotten used to being spoken to in military terms.
“I’ve been writing a lot of music,” I told him. “Have you heard of Autumn Powers? She asked me to write a few songs for her. I think they might actually get recorded.” I was still marveling at the news myself.
His eyes lit up. “That’s awesome, Sam.”
“I’ll keep working for Zitto for the time being,” I added, referring to the catering company I’d worked at for the last several years. It was a great gig because it afforded me a lot of flexibility. Zitto, the owner, had always treated me like a family member. “Until I’m rich and famous, of course,” I teased.
He chuckled.
We were quiet for a few minutes as we both dug into our food.
“You gonna ask about him?” he asked finally.
“Is he safe?” I asked without delay.
“Yes,” he answered firmly.
I fought the urge to wilt with relief. “Then that’s all the information I need.”
He rolled his eyes. “Christ, you’re as stubborn as he is.”
“That’s not news,” I pointed out.
He snorted. “Fair enough.”
****
“I don’t like you living by yourself,” he grumbled when we’d pulled back into the Talon parking lot.
I’d known this was coming—I was surprised he’d held off this long. With my hand on the handle of his Charger, I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine, Trav.”
“You still got that pepper spray I gave you?”
“Yes.” I sighed.
“Did you take that self-defense class I sent you a link to?”
“Trav, I’ve taken the last three you sent me. I’m good,” I assured him.
He seemed to ponder that for a moment before nodding stiffly. “All right, then.”
I smiled at my big brother. “I’m good. Love you, Trav.”
“Love you, too, Sam. I’ll check in with you soon.”
With a final wave, I headed to my car, the Accord I’d been driving since college that I prayed lasted me a few more years.
I thought about what Trav had said, about wanting me to be happy. As I watched Talon headquarters disappear in my rearview, I couldn’t help but think of Sid with that familiar ache in my chest. The ache that had become my constant companion in the last few months. Only sporadic moments of levity had provided a welcome balm. I was determined to make the most of those moments, to cling to that happy, despite the grief threatening to pull me under.
I’d get there, eventually.
CHAPTER 2
“Pink, eh?” Zitto squeezed my cheek the following evening as we worked side-by-side at an outdoor wedding in Malibu. The evening was warm and the ocean breeze made me want to sigh with each saltwater-tinged breath.
I grinned. “You know I like to keep things interesting.”
There were hundreds of guests and Zitto’s face was flushed as usual. “You okay?” I asked, concerned. The event space was large and Zitto was also… large. I always worried that he’d keel over on me.
“I’m perfect, bella.” He waved a hand at me. “You look nice.”
I looked down at the navy-blue dress I’d selected for the evening. It was formfitting, hugging my curves while still being professional. At formal events, we dressed up as well, so as to blend with the crowd. “Thanks.” I smiled, whisking a platter off to a nearby station.
“Sam.”
The deep, familiar voice nearly had me dropping my platter. I placed it on the table with shaking hands before turning to face him.
Sid was breathtaking in a tailored suit. His dark hair had grown out since I’d last seen him, the black locks gorgeously mussed on his head. His piercing blue eyes stared intently down at me while I desperately tried to recover my composure.
“Hi Sid,” I murmured, my heart pounding in my chest.
He didn’t say anything at first. He simply stared. His gaze slid over me, lighting a fire over every piece of flesh his eyes encountered.
“What are you doing here?” I managed.
His eyes met mine again, the tension zapping between us like a live wire. “The groom and I served together,” he explained. “You’re working?” His chin lifted toward the platter I’d placed on the table.
I nodded, wiping a hand over my dress absently as I stared back at him, feeling starved for the mere sight of him. He looked impossibly more handsome than the last time I’d seen him, which served to further lodge the knife in my belly that the mere sight of him provoked.
He reached a hand toward me. “Sam, I—”
“There you are.” A chipper blonde cut him off as she slid her perfectly manicured hand into his.