“What’s good here?” He picked up the menu and started to study it. He had no appetite whatsoever, but it would worry Callie if he didn’t eat. His brain worked overtime. He could still smell the carpet burning, feel the heat and the panic when he realized what was happening. Because of the neighbors’ quick thinking, the cabin had been mostly saved, though it would take a lot of money to make it livable again. A lot of money neither he nor Nate had. It was something he needed to think about. Callie would need someone who could provide for her. He wasn’t sure exactly how he fit into that scenario.
“I would stick to standard diner fare. Pancakes, bacon, burgers, and such. Hal is a fantastic fry cook. Unfortunately, he considers himself an artist. Stella gives him complete artistic control over the daily specials.” Callie turned a little green as she spoke.
Zane looked up at the chalkboard over the counter. It proudly claimed that Ceviche de Hongos with black beans and lemon was the special of the day. “What is that?”
Callie shrugged. “I have no idea. It doesn’t sell really well in small-town Colorado. Although the people around here are free-spirited, their spirits still tend to like burgers and fries and ice box pie. Except for Henry and Nell. They’re vegans. They protest here regularly.”
Despite feeling sorry for himself, Zane felt his lips curl at the thought of people protesting at a hole-in-the-wall diner. The brunette from last night walked up to the table. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt with the diner’s name across the chest. Her eyes were red and puffy. The night before had not been kind to her. Zane looked out the window as she talked to Callie, sensing she wouldn’t want his pity.
He knew that feeling. He watched as people strolled down Main Street. Just down the road was the sheriff’s office where he’d left Nate to deal with the reports required from last night and this morning. He knew what Nate intended to do. He was calling their old boss at the DEA. He was hoping to get some sort of backup. Zane was on Callie duty, and he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.
Well, he’d be happier if they were back at her cabin. He didn’t like to go out much anymore. Again, not a trait that led to gainful employment. Callie was really entrenched in this little town. If he stayed here with her, where would he work?
“He’s an asshole.” The brunette, Jen—yeah, that was her name—had tears seeping from her eyes.
“Oh, sweetie, he’s just confused,” Callie said, her hand reaching out to pat Jen’s.
It had been like that all day. Wherever Callie went, hard luck stories found her. When the smoke had finally cleared and they salvaged what they could, he’d found Callie rocking a baby so one of the neighbors could grab a cup of coffee. A teen had begged her for a ride into Bliss, and Callie had obliged. Before they had even set foot in the station house, the crazy dude with the tin foil hat had run up to Callie and hugged her, telling her he was glad she hadn’t been abducted. Apparently tragedies like fires or earthquakes were just ripe opportunities for alien abductions. In the end, Callie had ended up comforting the older man and promising him that some sort of detector thing would be here by the end of the week.
Callie had been a pretty butterfly, flitting around offering advice and comfort and an ear to bend to anyone she saw. Zane had been the big, hulking beast who followed her around. No one was going to flatten his butterfly, damn it.
Jen sniffled. She looked Zane right in the eyes. “Well, I hope you’re not an asshole.”
Not sure what to say to that. “I’ll try.”
“You do that. You take care of my friend or I swear I will…I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be bad.”
The slender woman seemed perfectly serious. Zane had been intimidating all of his life because of his height and build. The scars had only added to his badass factor. People turned away from him in Dallas or stared in horrified fascination. Not this one, though. She’d said he was stunning. A fallen angel. She was a little crazy, but she seemed awful nice.
“Who’s the asshole? You’re Callie’s friend. I’m Callie’s man. I’ll beat him up for you.” He would get in good with Callie’s friends. That seemed like a good thing to do. He might not be here for too long. Callie deserved far better than him, but he could certainly help her and her friends out in the short term.
“Stefan Talbot.” Jen gave up the guy who hurt her really easily.
“Consider him broken.” Zane sighed. Life was looking up. He’d wanted to kick that pompous rich boy’s ass for years.
Callie poked her index finger at him like an enraged school teacher. “You most certainly will not, Zane Derek Hollister. You are going to behave yourself.” She turned that judgmental finger on her friend. “And you are not going to put a hit on the man you love. He needs time. Give it to him. Pushing him will only make things worse. Now, we’ll take the bacon cheeseburger loaded with fries and the special.”
Jen nodded and, with a sigh of resignation, flounced off.
“I thought you said to avoid the special.”
“Everyone avoids the special. It hurts Hal’s feelings,” Callie explained.
Zane reached for her hand. He loved how small it was in his. Small but solid. That was his girl. “You need a keeper.”
Just like that, he was wondering if he wasn’t exactly what she needed. Some pussy rich boy would let everyone take advantage of her. Maybe she needed a guy who didn’t care what people thought.
She grinned. “I kind of thought I had one.”
Before Zane could reply, a sarcastic voice interrupted. “Well, damn, Cal, I thought I had to come rescue you, but it looks like you hired some muscle.”
Zane looked up at the man who had walked into the diner and made a beeline for his woman. He looked like he’d just ridden in off the range. A Stetson sat on his head. He wore jeans and boots and a shirt with pearl snaps. He stared at Zane for a moment and finally whistled.
“Damn, man, what does the other guy look like?”
“Max!” Callie turned to the newcomer, a startled look on her face.
Zane actually didn’t mind. The cowboy was the first person he’d met in a long time to simply ask him about the scars. It should have made him self-conscious, but Zane found forthrightness put him at ease. “The other guy was actually ten guys, and they look pretty bad themselves. They drugged me and tied me down. Three of them are dead, though. The rest are mostly in prison.”
The cowboy’s eyebrows climbed into his Stetson. “Mostly?”
“I wasn’t very happy when I came to. Unfortunately for them, the only people in a position to help them were DEA agents. They were indisposed, and I managed a good ten minutes with a couple of them.”
“Damn.” The cowboy named Max looked impressed. He slid into the booth beside Callie. His hand ran across the back of the booth. “That is impressive.”
His arm went around Callie’s shoulders, and Zane’s blood pressure ticked up slightly. Everyone in the town was friends with Callie. Keep it cool. Keep the caveman buried.
Zane shook his head. “Nah, it was really just painful.”
“So you with the DEA? What’s drugs got to do with my girl Callie here?” Max squeezed her shoulders in a familiar way that had the caveman in Zane clawing to get out.
He took a deep breath. His fingers tightened on the tabletop. He saw the way Callie playfully elbowed the cowboy. It did nothing to make him comfortable. It was past obvious that this Max fellow knew Callie really well. Max. That name triggered something in Zane. “Nothing. I’m not an agent anymore. And she isn’t your girl.”
“Really? You left a job like that?” Max completely ignored the important part. “Is that how you ended up as a bodyguard?” The cowboy reached over and grabbed Callie’s coffee like he had a right to steal a sip.