Coffee Shop Girl (Coffee Shop #1) - Katie Cross Page 0,27

take a chance, I’m willing to teach. Together, we’ll get your company back on its feet.”

“What will it cost?”

“Nothing except your feedback and cooperation and total transparency.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Her lack of fight was another brutal blow. She really was that desperate. The woman hadn’t even taken the change I’d left her when I bought the scone and water, but now she accepted free help.

Color me intrigued.

And a bit disappointed. Chasing her had been a great time.

She shivered, but stuck out her hand. When I accepted, that damn shiver skittered through me like a cruising firework.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she murmured.

“See you then.”

11

Bethany

The coffee shop lay in near silence when I returned from a long motorcycle ride to clear my head. The implications of taking the girls had far-reaching effects. Ones I was certain I couldn’t even comprehend now.

One thought stood out above all the static: I wanted them.

They were my family. My only connection to someone, and I desperately wanted them to be safe. Mom would want it. Dad would have taken them in half a second and threatened his shotgun on anyone who tried to stop him. Even though they were the children of the man Mama had chosen after him.

Jada had dropped the girls back off at some point. Shopping bags littered the attic floor. Lizbeth lay asleep in my bed, a book on her chest, snoring softly. Her burnished copper hair spilled across the pillow in the moonlight when I shuffled inside. Ellie sat at the window, bathed in starlight. She wore one of my shirts that was several sizes too big. Jada had texted me a picture of some pajamas they’d bought her. Why wouldn’t she wear those?

I stopped, arrested by the similarity to Mama. That stubborn tilt of her chin. The graceful arch of her nose. Ellie was already a wild beauty. She’d be a handful as a teenager even without her looks. They would only make it harder for her. Even worse because she couldn’t care less about things like that.

Her gaze flickered to me when I advanced into the room, then returned back outside. I stood next to her, peering out. Someone sat in a canoe on the lake, a light hanging from a pole on the side. Devin. Still out fishing.

With a sigh, I sat next to Ellie, pressed my back against the wall, and tilted my head up. The unusual quiet and darkness was a soothing balm, and I sank into it for several minutes. She didn’t say a word, and Maverick’s reverberating voice played on repeat in my mind.

“She cried for you.”

Ellie’s whispered words shocked me. I sucked in a sharp breath as her bright-blue eyes locked on mine. They were the first words I’d heard from her in years.

“Mama?”

She nodded. Her hands gripped the windowsill until her knuckles turned white.

A sinking feeling collapsed in my chest. “I cried for her too.”

Ellie studied me, then carefully crouched down. She sat with her back to the wall, but far out of reach. “You’re going to give us up, aren’t you?”

“Do you want me to?”

Her silence lasted for so long that I turned to look at her. She peered at me with luminous eyes. Then she blinked and looked away. Her knees came up against her chest. She didn’t answer.

“I’m going to keep you, if you’ll have me. Tonight, I met with a lawyer to figure out how to make it happen. You’re safe now, Ellie.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can,” I countered. “I am. We may not have a lot of space. We may have some things to figure out. And we may not always get along, but I can promise you that you will always be safe with me.”

A sense of rightness flooded my entire body. I’d keep them. I’d keep them and fight for them and make sure Jim never laid a hand on them again. No matter what. No matter how. If I had to leave the state with them, I would.

I’d figure it out.

She swallowed. “If you kept us,” she whispered, “I would stay.”

“Do you promise?”

She nodded.

“You won’t run away in the middle of the night?”

Her nostrils flared, but she nodded. “I promise.”

“You won’t hide supplies?”

“That’s just being smart.”

“No hiding supplies. No plans to run.”

Her voice was stark. “I always have plans.”

“Not anymore.”

For a long moment, there was total silence. Then she let out a long breath. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

With that, she scrambled onto her bed—a blow-up mattress with a pile of blankets on top. The answer was

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