Hook (A Hitman's Bait 2)

“He’s around the back, but I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thanks, Lane.”

As we walked toward an empty table, Tack jostled me with his shoulder. “Hey, that’s not the Lane you told me about, is it?”

“If you mean the one who tries to flirt with Sully whenever I’m more than two feet away from him, then yes.”

“She seems nice.”

“She’s okay. As long as she doesn’t cross the boundary, and it’s pretty fun because Sully is stoic as fuck when he’s talking with her, yet the poor thing keeps trying.”

As we sat, Tack stretched over and placed a hand on my forehead. “Strange. You don’t feel sick.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Where’s this mature Kit coming from? I expected claws out and a cat fight if anyone tried to mess with your man.”

I showed off my pretty pedicure—pale-pink nails with glitter tips and cat silhouette and paw designs. “I just got these done. Not messing up my nails for love or money.”

“Lies. You trust Sully.”

“I do.”

Who would have thought that after so many terrible men in my past, my heart would be in the place to accept and trust one completely? But Sully never gave me a reason to doubt him. For that reason, people like Lane didn’t matter much. As long as they kept a respectable distance.

“Kit.” Hugh walked toward us with our orders. It hadn’t taken long for us to become friends. Not with how often Sully and I came here.

“Hi, Hugh.” I rescued the drinks from his hands and passed Tack his. “This is my good friend, Tack. Tack, Hugh runs the café.”

“I’m only the assistant manager.” Hugh pulled out a chair and sat.

“But you and I know you always do the lion’s share of the work.”

Hugh smiled brightly at me. He didn’t look like a man devastated about losing the café as he’d been the last time I was here. What if I had been mistaken, and he, too, wanted to give up the café?

“You’re in high spirits,” I said.

“Who wouldn’t be?”

I frowned and took a sip from my iced white chocolate mocha. “Don’t you want to work here anymore?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good.” I put down my cup and dug into my bag for the check I’d written. I handed it to him.

He glanced at the paper and back at me. “What’s this?”

“This place is like home to me,” I said. “It’s where Sully and I got our babies. So I want you to use this money to keep the place running for as long as you can. In another couple of months, I should make more to help further.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would you give us this money?”

“I told you. I don’t want to see this place close.”

“But it won’t. Mr. Matthews bought the business and is keeping everyone on and everything the way it is.”

“What?” My jaw slackened. “My Mr. Matthews?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen a deal go through so fast, but the owner was ready to sell with what Mr. Matthews was willing to offer him for the place.”