Page 32 of Shadow Justice

“He can refill napkins,” Holly said with a casual shrug while her heart slammed against her ribs. She wasn’t lying, she told herself. She just wasn’t giving her best friend the full truth.

“That does sound like his highest calling,” Roni said, full of sarcasm.

Blue shoved his nose into Roni’s coat pocket, found the treat she’d undoubtedly brought, and sat with heroic obedience.

Roni pointed at him. “See? This is why I adore you. You appreciate me.”

“He appreciates snacks,” Reid said.

“Same thing.” Roni gave Blue the treat, then looked between them again. “Are you two okay? Is there something going on I should know about?”

The questions were gentle enough to be dangerous.

Holly pushed the door open and let the warmth of Sanctuary spill around her ankles. “Everything’s fine.”

She hadn’t planned to say that.

Reid didn’t look at her, but she felt the stillness in him beside her. Roni’s expression softened, and for once, she didn’t pounce on the opening.

“Hmm,” Roni said, clearly not buying it. “Fine then. I’ll take the menace to daycare, and you two can do whatever mysterious early-morning napkin emergency requires both of you.”

“Thank you,” Holly said, slightly relieved but sure that Roni would bring down a full inquisition on her soon.

Roni clipped her leash to Blue’s collar and bent to kiss the top of his head. “Come on, handsome. Let’s go teach the puppies emotional discipline.”

Blue trotted off with her, tail high, without so much as a backward glance.

“Traitor,” Holly called after him.

Roni laughed and waved over her shoulder.

Holly stood in the doorway with Reid at her side, watching her best friend and her dog disappear down the sidewalk toward Roni’s SUV. The morning had fully arrived, gray and cool and waiting. In a few minutes, she would turn on the lights, start the espresso machine, and open Sanctuary to the people who trusted it.

Reid reached past her to hold the door as she stepped inside. He didn’t say anything about what she’d told Roni. He followed her in, steady and quiet, and Holly found that she was grateful for the silence.

For now, it was enough that he was still here.

CHAPTER SIX

Sanctuary Coffee, before opening, was quiet and had its own chain of command—mostly made up of Holly.

She controlled the espresso machine, the pastry case, the register, the music, and the angle of the chalkboard sign by the door.

Reid had learned quickly that helping meant paying attention, not taking initiative that hadn’t been invited. There were beans he wasn’t supposed to touch, milks arranged according to use, a towel system he didn’t fully understand, and a row of mismatched mugs that Holly had assigned to certain customers.

He could respect that. He’d worked with admirals who were equally particular about battlefield logistics.

Blue had left with Roni fifteen minutes ago, vibrating with joy as if daycare were a diplomatic mission only he could handle. Roni had looked between Reid and Holly again before she’d gone, still too interested for his comfort, but she hadn’t pressed. That restraint wouldn’t last. His sister had been born with a talent for inserting herself into other people’s emotional lives and calling it family support.

As predicted, his phone buzzed with a text from her. Details needed. Soon.

Behind the counter, Holly measured, wiped, checked, adjusted, and glanced up at the front windows every few minutes. Morning light touched Main Street, turning the sidewalk pale gold. The storm had left the air clean and cool, with a thin glaze of moisture on patio chairs.

Reid restocked lids and cup sleeves, then checked the sugar canisters without asking. He’d made that mistake once yesterday, waiting for direction when the empty canister had been right in front of him. Holly hadn’t said anything, but he’d seen the silent assessment in the way she’d reached past him and replaced it herself.

He wasn’t making that mistake twice.

“You’re improving,” she said as she passed him with a tray of muffins.