"Theirs is a modern-day love story," Evie said with a grin. "No distance has been too great, no starvation has stopped them, no coyotes have tempted them. Epic."

"You have been reading too many romance books."

"Not possible. Imagine what a happier world we would live in if more people read those books."

"The men would be happier for sure."

"Reid's rubbing off on you."

"Bite your tongue, woman."

"You know, if you spent more time with him, he wouldn't harass you so much."

"Not true. I've spent hours with him on the training center renovation. He's as much of a pain in the ass now as ever."

"Hey, Friends of the Flowers," Reid called out. "It's time to eat."

Evie's eyes twinkled. "I see what you mean."

"Never doubt your big brother." He draped an arm around her neck and headed toward the scent of barbecue and roasted potatoes. Saliva drenched his mouth. No one could top his mom's BBQ pulled pork. Tender, melt-in-your-mouth pork dipped in a spicy-tart sauce authentic to generations of North Carolinians.

Everyone took their normal seats at the dining room table. Mom at one end, and Britt at the other. For a long time, Britt had refused to take the end chair, his dad's spot, believing the old man would return. But he never did, so Britt had assumed the head-of-the-household position in mind and body and chair.

Grif, Carlie Beth, and Aubrey sat to his left and Reid, Evie, and Jonah to his right. If any more siblings found their mates, they would need a bigger table. Randi Shepherd's image floated across his mind, laughing and sharing stories with his family. The scene was so clear, so real that Britt's gaze turned to his right, expecting to see her beautiful face shining with laughter.

Instead, he found Reid waving a hand inches from his nose. If Britt had a machete, he would hack off the damned thing at the wrist.

"Yoo-hoo, Tarzan. Mom asked you a question."

"Reid," his mother scolded. "Stop calling your brother that ridiculous name."

"Why ridiculous? He spends all his time in the jungle."

"Save your sass for the playground, not your mother."

Reid's cocksure expression crumbled.

Britt shared a look with Grif, whose lips twitched before he concentrated on filling his plate. No one dared to push their mother once she delivered a setdown. Not even Reid.

"How are the renovations going for the training center?" Evie asked Reid into the silence.

Reid stabbed a potato with his fork. "Slow."

After Jonah saved the town, the newly constructed sports complex needed a new purpose. Jonah in his understated wisdom deemed it a perfect location for a regional law enforcement training center. Given Reid's injury and the unlikelihood that he would be able to return to the Green Berets, he had been the perfect candidate to coordinate the refurbishment of the state-of-the-art facility.

With Britt's construction experience.

They would both be lucky to get through the project without maiming each other.

All the brothers played their part to give Reid this golden opportunity. Jonah supplied the cash, Grif executed the agreements, Reid provided the vision, and Britt dealt with the contractors. Rather than show some appreciation, Reid had turned into an even bigger turd.

Although it wasn't the best timing, Britt had welcomed the distraction of attending a conference in DC. He'd needed a break from...everything.

"Any issues at the construction site while I was gone?"

"If I had five hands," Reid said, "I still wouldn't have enough fingers to tick off all the crap I had to deal with while you were vacationing."

Britt allowed the vacation comment to slide. "I guess now you'll appreciate my presence a little more."

"What the hell does that mean? I appreciated you before."

"You have an interesting way of showing it, bro," Jonah put in.

"Did they finish the firing range?" Britt pressed.

"Another day or two. Why? You getting itchy?"

"Just tired of dropping lead on my own property."

An accomplished archer and rifleman, Britt liked to keep his skills sharp between hunting seasons. Many years ago, as a young hunter, he'd clipped a deer with a bullet. He'd followed the blood trail for over three hundred yards before he lost it. The thought of that injured deer's suffering had haunted him for years. Still did, from time to time.

Since then, he'd learned patience and kept his skills fine-tuned. He'd never missed his target again.

The others managed to wheedle Reid out of his miff long enough for Britt to learn that everything was progressing well enough, despite Reid's whining. Britt was glad. Although he'd needed the break, he would have felt guilty had things gone to hell while he was away.

An hour later, Evie walked him out to his truck. "You were patient with Reid."

"Years of experience, Squirt."

"No, he's more obnoxious than ever. Something's bothering him, and you seem to be the focus."

"He'll figure it out."

"Do you know what's going on with him?"

"Not a clue."

"He does love you. But he's in an odd place. Almost losing Brynne messed with his disposition."

Britt suppressed a grin. "Disposition? You sound like Mom."

"Quit trying to distract me." She rubbed her fingertips together in a gesture he recognized as anxiety. "You'll keep that in mind, right? About Reid."

"Don't worry." He slid behind the steering wheel and shut the door. "I won't kill him. Today."

She shooed away a mosquito floating by his chest. "Did you mail your application?" Her face lit with guarded excitement.

He would have loved to say yes. Just to make her happy. Instead, he turned over the engine. "Not yet." He set the truck in reverse.

"You're stalling. Why?"

"It's called commitments, Evie. Maybe there'll be time once the renovations on the center are done."

"You have been preparing for this moment for over two years."

"Looks like I'll be preparing for a while longer."

"Reid and Jonah will understand a few weeks' delay."

"Like Reid understood my conference delay?" He nodded toward her feet. "Watch your toes, Squirt."

5.

Randi bent over her desk in the rear office at Blues, Brews, and Books. Burning eyes stared at the small digital clock in the upper-right corner of her computer screen. 8:17 a.m. She rubbed her temples to ward off the oncoming headache. Waiting until a decent hour to call Virgil might be the hardest thing she'd had to do since learning how to tie her shoes.

Numbers, words, and columns blurred together like a bad game of Scrabble. She'd slept little the previous night, making bookkeeping near impossible this morning.

Her attention moved to the stack of condolence cards, opened and read, but not answered. She really needed to send out thank-you letters before too much more time passed. The muscles in her chest tightened. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would find the words.

She reached for her latte, hoping the sugar and caffeine mix would slap her into her normal alert, on-the-go self. When she tilted the cup toward her mouth, she misjudged the sippy hole, and creamy coffee dribbled down her chin and onto her desk.

"Why am I not surprised?" Pulling several tissues from the box, she mopped up her mess and pitched the soiled tissues into the trash. A discarded white envelope in the recycling bin next to her trash caught her eye.

Gaviston and Swink, Attorneys at Law.

Randi straightened, pushing receipts to the side until she found the crisp white vellum. Its message-salvation. So why did the words make her stomach cramp like a runner's muscles after hours of dehydration?

A tentative knock provided a much-needed interruption. "Come in."

"Morning, Randi. Sorry to bother you." Petite, with sleek black hair streaked with bright purple highlights, Kris McKay entered her office, confusion evident in her normally impish Asian eyes. "Jed's around back with a delivery. He needs to speak with you."

"Would you mind handling it, Kris? I'm in the middle of something here."

Although small of stature, Kris had a backbone made of titanium. Randi had witnessed her assistant manager slash barista slash waitress talking down a drunken miner three times her size. Like all of Randi's employees, Kris wore many hats. However, Kris had been with her since Blues, Brews, and Books first opened and she loved the place as much as Randi-and was fiercely protective of the shop and her employer.

"I tried," Kris said. "When I started discussing the details of our next order, Jed insisted on speaking with you."

The worry that had been flowing like slow-moving lava in her gut since her discussion with Britt Steele fired to life, searing her chest. "Is there a problem?"

"He wouldn't discuss specifics with me."

Randi nodded and made her way to where Jed waited for her in the empty bar. One deep blue awning stretched across two distinct storefronts, signaling to patrons they had arrived at Blues, Brews, and Books. One side of a soundproof moveable wall housed a bar and restaurant. The other, a coffee shop with an oversized Little Free Library. Staff flowed freely between the two via a back corridor, and both businesses shared a dry and cold stock area.

So many people had advised her against such a peculiar arrangement. But Randi had conceived the idea of Blues, Brews, and Books in her early days at university. An all-in-one gathering place. Most people liked simplicity and familiarity, along with great service and exceptional product. Her business delivered all of that and more.

The unique configuration allowed Randi to manage both businesses efficiently and, once inside, her customers weren't even aware of the operational aspect. Most of the locals distinguished their meet-up place as Triple B bar or Triple B restaurant or Triple B cafe, which suited Randi just fine. She didn't care what people called her establishment as long as they continued to buy her product and enjoy the service.

Although unconventional, Triple B had become popular with folks of all ages and interests. Now, she had to do everything within her power to save it.

"Hey, Jed," Randi held out her hand. "Kris said you wanted to speak with me."

He returned her handshake. Bordering six feet and more on the pretty side than masculine, twenty-two-year-old Jed Decker spent a good deal of time on the road, delivering his family's locally brewed beer.

"Sorry to hear about your mama, Randi. Daddy sends his condolences."

"Thanks, Jed. The flowers your family sent were beautiful."

"I know this isn't a good time." He shifted his stance, planting his feet farther apart. "But Daddy asked me to tell you that we can't make any more deliveries until your current balance is settled."

The fire flared into her throat, cutting off her words. She'd been expecting this. For the past three months, she'd paid only a portion of each bill that had rolled in. Hoping to give herself enough time to figure something out.

She did a quick calculation. "I can give you a check now for half, then the rest next month."

Shaking his head before she even finished, he said, "Daddy said all or nothing." Regret tinged his tone, though his gaze remained steady.

Randi briefly wondered how many times he'd been forced to have this conversation with other customers. Decker beer was one of her best sellers, so canceling her order was out of the question. Which meant something else would have to be sacrificed.

"I understand. Tell Avery that I'll have the bill settled within the week."

Jed smiled. "Will do."

After Jed left, Randi stood motionless, her arms hanging like useless iron weights at her side, her gaze inward, frozen by the images of failure scoring her mind. Fingers gone numb rubbed her temples again, fighting off the building implosion. She had to get control of this situation. So much more than her livelihood was at stake.

Blues, Brews, and Books employed fourteen people besides herself. She paid her staff well. Some said too well, but Randi believed in rewarding extraordinary performance. She asked a lot of her employees, with having to become familiar with different product lines and, for that matter, clientele. They juggled many hats and deserved to be paid for their efforts.

Everything had been going great. In the last six months, profits had exceeded the projections she'd established in her long-term business plan. Blues, Brews, and Books had become the hangout place.

Then she'd made a fatal decision, one that had gone against her gut, but she'd trusted someone she shouldn't have. Now she would have to tread water until this mess with Britt Steele was sorted out. And look forward to many more awkward conversations like the one she'd had with Jed.

The entrance door to the bar side rattled. A man in a tailored suit set down his briefcase to cup his hands against the glass and peer inside.

She held up a finger and made her way to the front of the bar. Unlocking the bolts, she opened the door and was momentarily stunned into silence. The guy was Henry Cavill gorgeous. Expensive suit, broad shoulders, and emerald green eyes set off by the blackest hair she'd ever seen. Blacker than Kris's. Neatly trimmed dark curls were kept under control with just the right amount of hair product.

"Good morning," she finally managed. "Are you looking for the coffee shop?"

"In a sense," he said in a deep, velvety voice. "I'm looking for the owner, Miranda Shepherd."

Her day just got a whole lot brighter. "I'm Miranda."

He flashed her a megawatt smile. "Then I'm at the right place." Holding out a business card, he said, "I'm Keith Gaviston of Gaviston and Swink. Am I calling at an inconvenient time?"