Page 8 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

ELLIE

Because I was apparently still in my dumb-girl era, I tracked Trace’s every move as he walked toward his SUV. Everything about him had sadness and anger written all over it. From the set of his shoulders to the tension radiating through his jaw. I just couldn’t figure out why.

It was like I’d kicked his puppy, not put cute braids in his daughter’s hair.

Maybe he thought I was infringing on their time together.

I could understand that. From what I’d gathered during my couple of Colson family dinners, Trace and his ex shared custody.

Only getting your daughter for half the time had to be hard. But something niggled.

A little piece of doubt that told me there was more to the story.

Trace’s engine starting had me jolting out of my musings. Keely waved from the back seat, beaming brightly. Trace might be cranky, sad, pissed-off hotness, but I wouldn’t trade Keely’s smile for anything, even if it came at the price of Trace’s stern looks or clipped words.

I waved back and headed for the sidewalk. As Trace’s SUV disappeared around the corner, I scanned the street, looking for anything out of place. I wasn’t sure what I expected. A pissed-off Bradley jumping from behind a neighbor’s bushes? He’d never deign to get his khakis dirty.

But I still looked. All I saw were normal morning happenings. A couple heading off to work. A mom loading three kids of various ages into a minivan. A sedan driving past with a man I’d seen come out of a house down the street yesterday. No Bradley. No private investigator with a long-lens camera.

I let out a long breath and headed toward town. Sleep hadn’t come easily last night. I’d finally grabbed about three hours after finding a bat in the garage. I’d fallen asleep clutching it.

So, there was only one thing I needed this morning. Caffeine. And lots of it.

As I started walking, a breeze picked up. In just a matter of weeks, the temperature had dropped drastically, and I was thankful Arden had told me about the need for layers around here. I pulled a sweater out of my bag and slid it on as I headed toward downtown.

The streets were fairly empty since the tourist season was fading. Now, it was the sort of casual foot traffic that meant a predominance of locals going about their normal business. A bookstore called Sage Pages was opening as I passed, the older gentleman giving me a smile and a dip of his head.

“Morning,” I greeted.

“Back at ya. Gonna be a beaut,” he called.

It had taken me a little while to get used to the innate friendliness of Sparrow Falls’ citizens. In New York, no one stopped to say hello on the street unless you knew the person—and maybe not even then.

But I found I liked the warmth of it. Nothing about it read false like you might think. Instead, it left you with the feeling that you were never completely alone as you moved through the streets.

I passed a few tourist shops, boutiques, and galleries before hitting my destination.

The Mix Up. The bell jingled and the bustling noise hit me as I opened the door.

The place was packed. While the citizens of Sparrow Falls were nice, they also weren’t fools.

They knew good coffee and treats when they tasted them.

“Hey, Ellie,” a flustered but familiar voice greeted me .

Thea’s brown hair had a little more blond now, and it flew around her in a wild tangle as she balanced a tray and unloaded plates.

“Morning. You guys are busy,” I said, watching in awe as she spun to another table and deposited three plates while hardly looking.

“Try slammed. The college kid we hired was a no-show for the third time in two weeks, and someone special ordered three dozen scones at the last minute.”

Thea managed the Mix Up for her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Sutton, while she and Cope were up in Seattle for his hockey season with the Seattle Sparks. But between this gig and her job at the local nursery, Bloom & Berry, I knew she had to be feeling the pressure.

“Can I help?” I asked.

Thea stilled, her green gaze cutting to me. “Seriously?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have any plans until three. Put me to work.”

“You want the register or dropping off orders?” Thea asked, not delaying.

I glanced at the long line of patrons waiting to place orders. “Why don’t I deliver food? As long as I can take two plates at a time instead of your dozen.”

Thea laughed. “Shep’s always wondering how I don’t end up covered in bakery goods every day. But the only time I spilled anything was when he snuck up on me.” She sent a look toward a table housing her boyfriend to punctuate the point.

I grinned. “Such a troublemaker.”

“I keep trying to tell people, but no one believes me,” Thea muttered.

I’d been here for less than a month and already knew that Shepard Colson was the town’s golden boy. The kind of guy who would help anyone who crossed his path, and just the sort of man Thea deserved after everything she’d been through.

“Tell me what to do,” I said, stepping behind the counter.

“Wash your hands over there and grab an apron. Numbers on the tables will match the order tickets.”

“Seems simple enough. Let’s see if I can do this without spilling on myself or one of the customers. ”

“May the force be with you,” Thea called as she turned to the waiting patrons.

I quickly stored my bag and sweater, then washed up and donned my apron. Crossing to the kitchen, I poked my head in to find an older man at the griddle. “Got any orders for me?”

Walter turned, grinning at me in his white chef’s apron. “How’d you get roped into this circus?”

“I heard you pay in coffee.”

He chuckled and gestured toward a station with two plates and a ticket. “I’ll get you a cup while you deliver these.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Tell Lolli that, would you? Never hurts to hear another woman has me in her sights.”

A laugh bubbled out of me as I crossed to the waiting food. “It’s hard to pin that one down, huh?”

Lolli Colson, or Supergran as Keely liked to call her, was the best grandmother and great-grandmother a kid could luck into having. She was brash, hilarious, and not afraid of the good kind of trouble. And just a month after meeting her, I was a little in love, too.

Walter let out a dreamy sigh. “She’s a wild woman, but that’s why I love her.”

Something shifted in my chest, and the feeling wasn’t entirely pleasant.

It was like some sort of foreign entity invading.

The sweetness of Walter’s words wasn’t something I’d ever experienced before.

Even the longing in his tone was beautiful.

But something about it made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to look too closely at it.

I shoved the stew of feelings down and forced a smile. “Never seen a man more determined. You’ll win her over.”

Walter shot me a grin. “Danged straight.”

I moved to grab the first duo of plates. They smelled delicious, and I suddenly regretted my breakfast of cold cereal. This would’ve been way better.

I carefully balanced the egg sandwich and cereal-crusted French toast and headed into the din. Conversations bled together as I wove through the tables, looking for number thirteen. I finally spotted it and made a cautious beeline.

I grinned as I approached the two familiar faces. “Playing hooky from the jobsite?” I asked as Shep looked up.

He chuckled. “We have a meeting with a prospective client in an hour. Thought we’d eat while we go over the pitch. Who roped you into this circus?”

“Your girlfriend,” I said with a grin. My gaze moved to Shep’s tablemate and second-in-command at his construction company.

Anson wasn’t exactly the warm, fuzzy type.

He was a man of few words, but they were always important ones when he spoke.

I’d learned that the ex-FBI profiler had been through his share of trials, but everything changed when he was around his girlfriend, Rhodes. His entire demeanor softened.

“French toast?” I asked him, knowing Shep wasn’t a huge fan of sweets.

“Thanks,” Anson said, the one-word answer fairly typical for the man.

I slid the egg sandwich in front of Shep. “Can I ask what he does in these meetings when he’s so opposed to talking?”

Shep barked out a laugh. “You’ve got a point there.”

Anson just scowled at us. I only grinned wider. “You look like Trace with that grumpy face.”

Shep shook his head. “Speaking of Trace. You know it’s making the rounds that he came out of your rental house shirtless last night.”

Heat hit my cheeks, surely blazing bright.

“You know, if I was still in my past job, I’d analyze that blush,” Anson muttered.

It was my turn to scowl at him. “I never should’ve poked the profiler bear.”

Anson’s lips twitched. “Now you know.”

“I had a little, um, incident. My frozen pizza caught fire,” I explained.

Shep’s brows drew together. “And Trace’s shirt went up in flames? ”

I rocked back and forth from my heels to my toes. “I, uh, had kinda just gotten out of the shower when it happened and wasn’t fully dressed, so…”

Anson burst out laughing, which surprised me so much that I gaped at the typically stoic man. Turning to Shep, I dropped my voice to a stage whisper. “Is he having a stroke?”

“There’s a good chance,” Shep agreed.

Anson wiped beneath his eyes. “Sorry, just picturing Trace coming face-to-face with a safety violation and you in all your post-shower glory. If anyone had a stroke, it’s him.”

That got Shep laughing. “Now that I know what really happened, I’m going to give him so much shit.”

“Good. He needs to lighten up a little.” And if that happened at my expense, I was good with it.

Shep shook his head. His mouth still formed a smile, but I didn’t miss the hint of sadness in his amber eyes. “I’m not sure lightening up is in Trace’s wheelhouse.”

“And why is that?” I found myself asking. It was none of my business and a question I shouldn’t be asking. And not just because I had no right to the answer. My no-man zone meant that the last thing I needed was to discover the root of Trace’s demons.