I pause, glancing back at him, then at Vex, who only shrugs and flips his newspaper back up as if the comment was nothing new.
Feeling the weight of the man’s warning, I mutter a quick “Thanks” to no one in particular and hurry out of the diner, the note clutched tightly in my hand.
Chapter Five
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Blade
Before I see it, Ihear the car and the faint hum of its engine growing louder as it approaches.My chest tightens, heat spreading through me as the tiny red and black car pulls into view.Hannah parks right in front of my porch and steps out, a container tucked under her arm, her face bright with a wide, cheerful smile.
“Hello!”she chirps, slamming the car door shut.“I bring gifts by way of a thank you.”
She hurries toward me, holding out the container as though it’s a peace offering.I take it, popping the lid open to reveal what I assume are cookies.They’re oddly shaped, unevenly baked, and a little singed at the edges.I stifle a chuckle.
Hannah glances past me toward the closed door of my house, her smile faltering for just a moment before she meets my eyes.
“You wouldn’t take any money from me, so I thought I’d bake you something.They’d go great with tea, but you’re a coffee guy, right?”
Her nervous energy tugs at something in me.I never invite strangers into my home—this place is mine, my sanctuary, and the only people who’ve stepped foot here are members of my MC.But she’s standing there, hopeful and slightly awkward, making it clear she expects an invitation.
I clear my throat, a rare twinge of uncertainty creeping into my voice.“Would you like to come in?”
Her face lights up, and she nods so enthusiastically it makes me laugh.“Love to!”
Opening the door, I step aside to let her in.She brushes past me, her scent filling the space—soft, clean, and tinged with something sweet, maybe vanilla?To my surprise, she doesn’t linger awkwardly near the door the way most people would.Instead, she spots the kettle in my small kitchen, picks it up, fills it with water, and sets it on the stove, moving as though she’s done it a hundred times before.
“Well, someone’s comfortable,” I say, leaning against the counter, watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
She flashes me a grin over her shoulder.“Why waste time?And these...”she points at the container of cookies, “...are better fresh.Or at least I hope they are.”
I glance at the cookies again, one corner of my mouth quirking up.“I’ll take your word for it.”
Hannah laughs, and the sound is warm, filling the quiet space in a way that feels right.For someone who doesn’t know me, she sure has a knack for making herself at home.It’s strange, unsettling even, but I don’t mind as much as I probably should.
Hannah rummages through my kitchen cupboards, opening one after another.
