Page 2 of Spring L.A.W.
“I am. And you are... here for the romance? Or just to reclaim your soldiers like they’re overdue library books?”
His eyes flicked to Michael and Daniel, then back to her. “They served under me. In Afghanistan.”
Rayna’s smile didn’t waver. “And now they serve under me. Kinky, right?”
There were a few nervous giggles. Camera phones were set to record video. The Major’s mouth twitched. Possibly amusement, possibly an aneurysm.
“I’m just here to ask some questions,” he said.
“Of course you are,” Rayna said sweetly. “But maybe after the event? Wouldn’t want to disappoint the crowd. They bite.”
The Major looked around at the eager fans and begrudgingly stepped back. “I’ll wait.”
And wait, he did.
Two hours later, Rayna signed the last book with a flourish, posing for a selfie where she kissed a fan’s forehead like a pope with contouring. Then she turned, heels clicking, and sauntered toward the Major like she didn’t have a single secret to hide.
She had several. And four of them were in her purse.
“Let’s talk,” she said. “But not here. I know a café nearby that serves decent espresso and then leaves you alone, unless you don’t want to be left alone.”
He raised a brow. “You don’t seem like the type to scare easily.”
Rayna grinned. “Sweetheart, I’ve faced cursed cats, PMS-fueled coven fights, and a possessed Roomba. You’re just a man in a uniform. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
Actually, I have to do an errand. I didn’t expect to get waylaid like this.”
Oh, now you’re chickening out?”
“Hellno. Just give me thirty.”
The weight of his stare told her one thing for certain. This wasn’t over.
The coffee shopwas quiet in that ironic, overpriced way only Brooklyn could pull off. Artisanal espresso, exposed brick, and just enough attitude to charge eight dollars for a latte without blinking.
Rayna sat near the window at a high-top for four. Daniel had insisted on the lavender flavor. “It’s calming,” he’d said, as if she needed calm and not caffeine injected directly into her femoral artery.
Michael was late. This was not news. He stopped to answer fans’ questions about therealRayna. He arrived in a chaotic gust of Brooklyn wind, slapping the door open and sliding into the seat across from her with that impossible, sheepish grin that could disarm TSA agents.
“Well,” Rayna said, stirring her drink with the slow menace of a cat about to knock something off a shelf. “That wasn’t exactly what I’d call a normal signing.”
Michael lifted his hands. “I didn’t know Payne was still in the city. Last I heard, he took some cushy job in D.C. Or maybe he went underground. Either way, I wasn’t expectingthatentrance.”
“Yousalutedhim,” she said, her voice sharp with mock horror. “In front of a line of romance readers. I thought one of the suburban moms was going to faint.”
“She did,” he said. “Dan caught her.”
Rayna let her head fall back against the seat, groaning. “Ugh. I’ve workedsohard to curate a brand that says sexy and strong, not secret military witch squad.”
Michael leaned forward, lowering his voice. “He recognized us. Both of us. That’s not nothing, Rayna. We couldn’t ignore him.”
“You okay?” Daniel asked, nudging her gently with his knee under the tiny table.
“I’m fine,” Rayna said. “Just thinking about how we’re probably going to have to memory-wipe half of Williamsburg.”
“That might be an improvement,” Michael said, wearing a scowl usually reserved forcombat mode. “I just called Joell. She said, and I quote, ‘Oh,hellno,’ and then started laughing in that terrifying way she does when she’s already making a PowerPoint.”
“Great,” Rayna muttered. “We’re gonna get briefedat.”
