Molly McAdams: Capturing Peace

The barista lifted up an iced latte before setting it down on the counter. “Saw what happened, this is on me.”

“Thank you so much,” I whispered to her after I pulled away from his hand. I hope she understood just how grateful I was for this. Looking back at the guy, I unnecessarily showed him the new drink and shot him a smile. “Well, I guess that solves that. Thank you for everything anyway. Have a good weekend.”

My smile fell and a short huff left me when I began walking away. What the hell was that, Reagan? I liked being in control of situations and my emotions, and the longer I stayed in his presence, the more I’d felt myself losing control of all of it.

Reaching for the bar on the door, I felt a warm chest brush against my back at the same time a tattooed arm shot in front of me and pushed the door open.

“So, how about that name?” he asked huskily, and a smile crossed my face as a shiver worked its way through my body.

Turning to look up at him after we were outside, I shrugged and shook my head, but I still couldn’t contain the smile on my face. “What good would it do for you to know it?”

“Humor me.”

Biting down on my cheek, I raised one shoulder and started walking backward toward my car. “I’m just the girl covered in coffee. Good night.”

I was also the girl who couldn’t get him out of my mind even hours later, when I got in bed. His short dark hair, near black eyes, cocky smirk, and lean, toned body covered in tattoos were all I could see when I closed my eyes that night.

Coen—­ August 13, 2010

“THERE HE IS,” Hudson’s voice boomed when I walked over to the table he was sitting at with his girlfriend and a few more ­people I’d never met before.

I slapped his hand and ordered a beer before the waitress could step away. “Hey, man, sorry I’m late. I had to run back to the studio and change.”

He shot me a knowing look, and I wanted to ask what it was for. “How’d apartment hunting go?”

“It didn’t. Once I got to my studio, I set up my equipment and did some edits for a while. I went to grab a coffee on my way out, and ended up running into this girl.” Hudson’s eyebrow lifted and I rolled my eyes. “Not like that, I mean I ran into her. Made her spill her coffee all over both of us.”

His lips twitched and he covered it by taking a long pull from his beer. “Is that so?” he asked after. “Did you catch her name?”

“Uh . . . no. Wasn’t because I didn’t try though. Whatever, story of my life.”

“Is she hot?”

Hudson’s girlfriend, Erica, started laughing, and buried her face in Hudson’s shoulder to muffle it. I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t hit him. She hated when he would bring up other girls.

Why the hell is he acting so weird? “Yeah . . . ? Yeah, she was. Am I missing something?”

Erica snorted and laughed harder. Her shoulders were shaking, and her face turned bright red. “Nope,” Hudson said, but he was now full-­on grinning. “Maybe you’ll see her again.”

“I doubt it, I’ve been going to that Starbucks since I got my studio years ago. Never seen her before.” I said each word slowly as I watched Erica fan at her face, and Hudson struggle to contain his smile. What the fuck did I miss? “If you don’t tell me what the hell is going on, I’m leaving.”

The waitress put my beer in front of me, but I didn’t touch it as I waited for him to answer.

“Don’t leave, we’re celebrating,” Hudson said at the same time Erica pled, “Aww, Coen, don’t leave! Keegan had been telling me a, uh, funny story before you showed up, and I just now got it. You know me . . . just another blond moment.”

Erica was a natural brunette.

I stood, but Hudson reached over and pushed me back down. “Stay. I haven’t even introduced you to everyone else yet. Let’s just have a good night, ’kay?”

“Sure, whatever.” Grabbing my beer, my mind was already off Hudson and Erica’s odd behavior. Hazel eyes, long blond hair, and a soft smile replaced everything and stayed forefront in my mind for the rest of the night.

Reagan—­ August 15, 2010

PULLING PARKER OUT of his booster seat, I helped him get out of my SUV and followed him as he ran up my parents’ driveway.

Just as I’d been about to remind him to knock first, my dad threw the front door open and grabbed Parker up. Throwing him over his shoulder, he tickled my son’s sides for a few seconds before setting him back on the ground.

“Hey, Dad,” I said as I kissed his cheek and closed the door behind me.

“Are you staying for a few minutes?”

I made a face and looked at him like he was crazy. “Uh, Mom invited us for lunch today.”

“Hi, sweetheart! Are you hanging out here for a bit? I figured you’d be on your way by now,” Mom stated as she pulled me in for a hug.

“Wait, what?” I froze as I tried to remember where I was supposed to be today. “I thought I only had lunch with you guys today. Am I forgetting something?”

“Keegan said the two of you were having lunch today.”

“I haven’t even talked to Keegan since Friday before I picked Parker up. I thought he was going to be here since he was home for the weekend.”

My parents shared a quick smile, and Mom shrugged. “You should call him then, he left about an hour ago.”

Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I pulled up Keegan’s name, and tapped on it.

“Hey, sis.”

“I thought you were going to be at Mom and Dad’s today. I told Parker you would be here, he’s been looking forward to seeing you.”

“Aw, tell my little man I’ll see him tonight. Now get your ass over here and have lunch with me.”

I let out an exasperated groan. “I don’t even know where here is, and why can’t I just bring Parker with me?”

“I’m at Rio, and because we never have time to talk. So hurry up, I’m fucking starving.”

Looking at my son playing with the toys that always stayed at my parents’ house, I thought for a second and said, “Okay, but I’m bringing Parker.”

“No, Ray. I want to see him, and I’ll see him tonight. Just trust me on this, all right? Come alone.”

Turning away from Parker, I hissed into the phone, “You’re being sketchy and it’s pissing me off.”

“And you didn’t come out on Friday, so we’re even.”

“Keegan—­”

“Hurry up.”

I growled into the phone when he hung up, and shoved it back in my pocket. My parents both waved at me from where they were pulling Parker into the kitchen. “Have fun, sweetheart!”

“Love you, Mom!” Parker called out.

“Are you all in on this?” I asked, looking at them suspiciously. “What is going on?”

My mom put her hands on her hips and shot me a look. “Oh, stop being so dramatic, Reagan. Go have lunch with your brother and give us some time with our grandson.”

“Mom, it’s summer, you have him five days a week!”

“Bye, honey!” She bent to whisper something, and Parker turned to look at me. “Bye, Mom!”

What the hell is going on? I stood there trying to think of something to say, but I was obviously outnumbered. With a defeated sigh, I waved and called out a good-­bye before leaving the house and heading to Rio.

I was still grumbling to myself as I crossed the parking lot, when a deep voice from a few feet away had my body coming to a stop.

“So how about that name, huh?”

Turning slowly, my breath caught when I saw him standing there. Same cocky smirk, his tattoos on display beneath his black shirt, his dark eyes hidden from view behind aviators.