Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)

“Can I interest you in a muffin to go with that coffee, Mrs. Stokes?” Holly asked one of her favorite customers. A woman in her late-fifties who worked at the local library. She’d been by every weekday since Holly’s counter opened. Five mornings a week, she made a production of only ordering a coffee. Once Holly offered her a muffin or a donut, she’d hem and haw about how she should stick to her diet. In the end, she left with a giant, warmed treat each morning. “Fresh out of the oven as of ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, Holly Lane, you’re hell on my diet,” Mrs. Stokes said as she peered into the display case over the top of her light pink glasses. “You know, I didn’t lose a pound last week? Not one pound.” She clucked and shook her head. “I blame you.” When she lifted her gaze, her eyes twinkled, and she winked. “Haven’t tried the cinnamon streusel muffin yet.”

“You got it,” Holly said as she stifled her laugh.

Once Mrs. Stokes had been rung up and sent on her merry way, Holly took a breath. This ten-thirty to eleven am stretch tended to be the quietest thirty minutes of the morning. Too late for the breakfast crowd, too early for lunch. Gave Toni’s staff a chance to rub their aching backs and reenergize for the next few hours.

While soaking up the calm for a few moments, Holly let her gaze wander to LJ’s table as it often did when he came in to eat. He made a point to stop in every time she worked, even if it was only to grab a coffee on the run. Her heart never failed to flutter when the bell above the door jangled, and she looked up into his heated gaze. And her man never failed to leave her with a lip-lock that had her turning beet red at work. Today, he and Rocket had estimates to write up, so they’d decided on a late working breakfast.

LJ caught her staring as he always did when she gawked at him. The stud had some kind of radar alerting him when her eyes were on him, which was pretty much all the time. Come on, with a T-shirt hugging his muscles, face tight with concentration, and a pen tapping those lips she loved, the man was hot as hell. The wink he shot her way had her face heating at the memories of that morning and the way those lips made her scream out his name as she came. Good Lord, she’d never be able to show her face to the neighbors above or below her again.

The bell clanged, and Holly turned to greet the next customer. She tried to welcome each patron since she was the first employee they encountered walking through the door.

“Good morning,” she said before she fully faced the entrance. “Welcome to—Dad!”

Her father marched in, uniform on, followed by three deputies. Each wore varying degrees of a scowl. The rigid set of her father’s shoulders, combined with his piercing gaze, and lack of greeting let her know he wasn’t here with a hankerin’ for a scone.

This was business.

And that couldn’t be good for Toni.

LJ was on his feet and cruising toward Holly before her father reached her counter.

“Thant’s far enough,” her father said, holding out his hand as LJ neared. LJ’s mouth flattened but stopped about ten feet out.

Holly gripped the edge of the marble so hard her fingertips ached. “What’s going on, Dad?” she asked as he approached.

Toni emerged from the kitchen, eyes narrowed, and lips compressed.

“You the owner, ma’am?” her father said to Toni, who’d worn a simple coral sheath dress. Most of the time, she dressed as casual as the rest of the employees, but she’d had an appointment earlier and had upped her game.

“Yes, Sheriff. Something I can help you with today?” As she spoke, Toni dried her hands on a bar towel. Most likely it was to keep her hands busy enough she wouldn’t be tempted to flip Holly’s father off or try to wring his neck. Neither of her hands appeared very wet to begin with.

“I’m gonna need to shut this place down for the day at least,” her father said in a voice loud enough everyone in the diner could hear the announcement.

“The fuck?” LJ said, advancing two more steps.

Holly gasped, and Toni looked like she might scream.

“Dad,” Holly started.

“Honey, please, this is between me and the proprietor of this establishment,” he said without so much as a glance in her direction. His gaze focused on Toni except for every few seconds when he checked in on LJ out of his peripheral vision.

Holly’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Never before had her dad dismissed her in such a flippant, unfeeling manner as though she was nothing more than a pesky fly. She risked a glance at LJ whose feet were spread, hands fisted at his sides as if preparing for a fight.