Serving Trouble(40)

He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “How about a dinner break when the rest of the staff arrives to man the bar? It’s quiet today.”

Her brow furrowed. “Noah—­”

“If we pick something up to go, we could swing by the barn and check on the kittens. You’re responsible for feeding them, remember?”

“I’m not going to forget about my kittens—­”

“Josephine,” a deep male voice called.

Aww hell. Noah closed his eyes. He’d know the chief of police’s voice anywhere.

He blinked his eyes open and glanced over his shoulder. Josie’s dad was off duty, judging from his jeans and worn flannel shirt. But Noah was still relieved he’d used the front door—­even if it cost him a dinner break in the barn with the man’s daughter.

“JOSEPHINE.”

The deep, male voice carried through the bar. She could count on one hand the number of ­people who used her full name, and they were both immediate family. She turned and spotted her father. She’d bumped into him earlier, when she’d stopped home to shower. He’d been busy watching golf, and looking like he was headed for a well-­deserved nap on his day off.

“Hi, Dad.” She met him halfway to the bar, before he moved closer to the door leading to the back room and the dishwasher determined to aim first and ask questions later.

“Stop in for a drink?” she asked, tearing the handwritten list of orders off her pad.

“Not tonight. I came to see you.”

“Oh?” Her hand clutched the torn slip of paper.

“Does your boss give you a dinner break?” He nodded toward Noah, who had turned away to pour a beer behind the bar but remained within earshot.

Only on the days when he wants to visit the barn.

“You bet, Chief Fairmore,” Noah called as he turned off the tap. He delivered the beer and returned to the middle of her bar, not far from her dad. “We’re slow tonight, and I know you don’t get much time off from keeping our town safe, so take your time. Enjoy dinner.”

“Thanks.” But her father moved closer to the bar instead of the door. She followed and slipped the drinks orders across the polished wooden surface to Noah, who glanced at them briefly before looking up at her dad.

“Have you heard from Dominic?” her father asked.

“He called the other night,” Noah said, but his expression didn’t offer a hint of emotion.

“While he was stateside?” Her father spoke as if he were conducting an interrogation.

Did someone see us kissing in the parking lot and report back to my dad?

But then how would they know Dominic had called? And why would her father care about the fact that she’d messed around with her brother’s friend, now her boss? She wasn’t a teenager anymore. Plus, she made it clear she was a lost cause when it came to finding trouble.

“Yes,” Noah said.

“Oh.” One word and Forever’s tough-­as-­nails police chief deflated like a balloon stabbed with a pin.

“Dad?” she said tentatively. A dreadful feeling simmered and threatened to shake the calm she’d struggled to maintain since Noah had left her in the barn. If something had happened to Dominic . . .

Her father shook his head. “He usually calls on Sunday mornings. I knew he was heading out this week. He never says where. Syria. Afghanistan. Africa. He’s been all over the world. But he always gives me a heads-­up if he won’t be able to call.”

Noah frowned. “I’ll shoot him a message while you’re out. I doubt he’ll respond, but I can try. If you’re worried, I can email Ryan too.”

Josie’s hope rose. Ryan was the third member of their trio from high school and the years following. Of course, he’d keep tabs on Dominic too.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” her dad said. “How’s he doing? I haven’t run into his father in a while.”

“Ryan’s making the most of what the air force has to offer. And with their budget, that’s a helluva lot. I swear he joined just to play with their toys.” Noah reached for a pint glass to fill the order she’d passed to him. “Different branches and all, but Ryan talks shop with Dominic.”

Her father smiled, but it appeared strained. “I’m sure the air force has a lot of toys, but not much beats the army rangers.”

Navy SEALs. They probably had one up on the rangers. But she wasn’t about to stomp on her dad’s pride. His son was a ranger. He’d completed a training program most guys failed. She couldn’t recall the exact pass/fail rate, but she bet her dad knew. And he’d probably told the entire police force.