Molly McAdams - Capturing Peace

His next laugh was louder, fuller. “Sounds like you need a beer, not coffee.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I mused.

“I’m coming home tonight and hitting up a bar with my roommate. He’s officially retired as of today, so we’re celebrating. Come out with us.”

“Thanks, but no. I just want to get Parker and go home.”

Keegan sighed, and I mentally prepared myself for what was coming next. Swear to God, my entire family was like one giant broken record. “You need to go out and just relax. One night away from your son isn’t going to kill you. I know Mom and Dad will watch him.”

“Of course they will, and they’d probably shove me out the door to hang out with you. But I don’t want a night away from him.”

“Reagan, it’s just a few hours. Come hang out with us, have a good time, meet some ­people . . .”

I gasped as I realized what he was hinting at. “Keegan Hudson, are you trying to set me up with your friends?”

There was a long pause before he admitted, “Yeah, Ray, I am. He’s a good guy, I know you’d like him . . . and he’s moving close to you. It would be good for him to know someone there.”

“Christ, not you too. I don’t want to meet anyone, why is that so hard for all of you to understand?”

“Because—­”

“This is so backwards! Shouldn’t you be keeping me from guys? Especially your soldier buddies?” I mouthed a thank-­you to the barista, and grabbed my iced latte as I turned to leave.

“You know . . . it’s not a crime to date.”

“I know that, Kee—­shit!” I gasped, and jumped back from the iced coffee, even though it was already covering most of my shirt.

“What?” he yelled into the phone. “What happened?”

“Oh my God,” the guy in front of me said. His face somewhat apologetic, somewhat amused. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Reagan! What happened?”

I pulled the shirt away from my body, and stood there in shock for a few seconds before my brain started functioning again. “Nothing, I just literally ran into a guy at Starbucks and am now covered in coffee.”

“That shit actually happens?” Keegan laughed. “Only you, Ray, only you.”

“I’m so sorry,” the guy said again. “Please, let me buy you a drink . . . and a new shirt. Shit, here let me get napkins.”

Keegan was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, “Who is that with you?” His voice was laced with a curiosity I’d never heard from him.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him before.”

“Ask him his name.”

“No, look, I need to go. I’m soaked and there’s coffee all over the ground. I’ll talk to you later.”

He sighed. “Fine. Call me later, and think about coming out with us. Love you, sis.”

“Love you too,” I said quietly, and dropped my phone into my already full purse to take the napkins from the guy’s hands. He looked like he couldn’t decide if he should try to clean me off, or if he should let me do that. So I made the decision for him.

“What did you have? I’ll get you another.”

I looked up at his face, and tried not to scoff at his amused expression. Watching him until he finally looked up from my damp shirt, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t worry about it, this is probably a sign I shouldn’t have stopped for coffee.”

I’d started bending down to clean up what had made it onto the floor, when he grabbed my arm. My body froze from its descent, and I stared at his full sleeve of black tattoos before slowly looking up at his dark eyes. They were almost black, and held mine captive until his lips moved again. The amusement was gone from his face and tone, his deep voice now gruff as he spoke. “I’ll get that, this was my fault.”

“I turned into you, it’s mine.”

“I shouldn’t have been standing right behind you.”

We looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, before I snapped back to reality. Pulling my arm from his grasp, I took a step back from him and looked away from his intense stare. Clearing my throat, I hitched my purse higher up on my shoulder and searched for a trash can.

“Can I please buy you another drink?”

“No, it’s fine. Really.”

He laughed awkwardly and looked around for a second. “I’m trying to make up for spilling your drink on you . . . and you’re making it really hard.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath in and out before turning back to him. I knew I was coming across as a bitch, but I hated asking for help, and didn’t like when ­people offered it. It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for ­people, it was just the idea of not being able to handle a situation by myself left me feeling like I was seconds from panicking.

Offering him a forced smile, I tried to keep the strain out of my voice when I said, “I appreciate your attempt at reminding me that chivalry isn’t dead, but I really am fine.”

Grabbing his drink off the counter, he offered it to me. “Then will you take mine?”

My next smile wasn’t forced. “Thank you, but no.”

“You’re really going to leave me standing here feeling like an asshole?” I might have felt bad if he wasn’t smirking at me.

“I’m sure you’ll live. Have a good night,” I called over my shoulder as I walked past him.

His hand grasped my elbow, and my breath came out in a soft huff. His hold wasn’t menacing, and even though it should bother me to have a stranger touching me, it didn’t. But I absolutely refused to think about why my skin felt like it was on fire where he was holding me.

“Can I at least have your name?”

My voice came out breathy, and I silently cursed myself and his dark, mesmerizing eyes. “And why would you want that?”

“Excuse me, miss?”

I looked over at the barista, but from the corner of my eye, I could see the man’s eyes still on me.

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?”