“I—I—apologize,” Lyle told Roman. “I left something of mine behind—”
“Here it is, lover.” Brandy pulled open the drawer to the jewelry box. “I had it in safekeeping.”
Lyle’s tension drained. “Thank you.” He looked at Roman. “Again, I apologize for interrupting. Tonight’s on me. I’ll take care of it at the desk.”
“Good night,” Brandy called sweetly, closing the door behind Lyle.
Then she promptly sank to her knees with a hand on her stomach.
Okay, Everly had to give the girl props. Even Everly’s nerves were singed. She crouched next to Brandy and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’d better get some clothes on if you’re coming with us.”
The girl twisted and locked Everly in a hug so hard, Brandy almost took her to the ground. Roman grinned and started tearing the sheets from the bed and knotting them together to form the rope Brandy would use to climb to freedom.
While the teen nearly strangled her, Everly said, “Liam, are you in position?”
“Affirmative.”
Everly pried Brandy away from her and drew open a dresser drawer, searching for warm clothes and asking the teenager, “Did you ever play in a tree house as a kid?”
“Tree house?” she asked, sniffling through tears of relief. “What’s this tree house?”
“Never mind. Just trust me, this will be fun.”
13
The pleasure Ian infused into her the night before continued to pulse in her blood as the café’s breakfast rush slowed. But Misty didn’t say anything about her glowing this morning. She seemed distracted and a little moody, which wasn’t like Misty at all. But the café had been too busy for Savannah to slow down to ask Misty if everything was okay.
When they were both behind the counter with only a handful of retirees lingering in the restaurant, Savannah said, “You seem a little off today.”
She shrugged. “Just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Before Savannah could dig deeper, Misty grabbed a wet rag and moved into the dining room to wipe down tables. Her friend’s unhappiness took the edge off Savannah’s pleasure. Misty could be jealous of Savannah’s newfound happiness. God knew it was difficult to watch other people find happiness when you were struggling. Or she might be frustrated with Savannah for not taking her worries about Ian’s background to heart.
Savannah brought a tray of dishes into the back. She turned toward Karen, who was rolling out dough, prepared to ask if she’d noticed Misty’s mood change. Before she could get the words out, the bell on the front door signaled someone coming or leaving. Then Hank’s voice filled the restaurant.
“Where is she?” he bellowed, making Savannah cringe. “Savannah!”
Karen’s expression tightened into frustration. “He’s got to stop coming in here to harass you.”
“Savannah,” he yelled again. “Get out here.”
“I’m working on it.” Savannah forced her feet into action and entered the dining room with her shoulders squared for whatever he was going to throw at her next.
She found Misty already chastising Hank. “You’ve got the manners of a spoiled brat.”
“I’m right here,” Savannah said, drawing Hank’s gaze. She gripped his arm and turned him toward the hallway leading to the restrooms.
He jerked from her grip, but Savannah kept walking. “If you want to talk to me, you’ll do it away from customers.”
Hank followed long enough to grab her. He whirled her around and slammed her back against the wall. Pain clawed through her spine, stealing her air. Hank bent, getting right in her face. “I’ll talk to you when and where and how I choose.”
She forced her throat to unlock and pulled in a raspy breath. “What do you want?”
He lifted a hand filled with folded papers and waved them in her face. “Judge Burns had an opening in his schedule. Our custody hearing has been moved to Friday.”
“This Friday?” Ice spread through her veins. She jerked the papers from his hand and unfolded the court documents. “You can’t just move it like that. Audrey needs to schedule—”
“I can and I did. Too bad for you.”