Beret Bear (Rogue Bear Series 3) by Meredith Clarke, Ally Summers

1
    Gage
    G age tried to push back from the table when the waitress refilled his mug with hot coffee, but his frame was too large for the booth. Instead he moved enough for the coffee pot not to graze his arm.
    “You decide on something?” she asked.
    “I’ll have the double breakfast platter.” He handed her the menu coated with layers of grease.
    “The whole works?” She waited with her order pad ready.
    He nodded, pulling his ball cap close around his temples.
    “It will be right out.” She smiled as she turned from him.
    It was dreary and cold outside. The rain came down in sheets, but inside the diner the air was warm and smelled like bacon. Gage brought the cup to his lips. He hadn’t had a good cup of coffee in awhile. The best he got in Razastan was a thermos and powdered coffee he mixed by shaking.
    He watched the puddles fill with rain while his breakfast sizzled on the grill. This was the first town he had stopped in. He had ridden his bike all night, unable to quiet his bear’s need to keep moving. He didn’t want to stop long enough to think. Thinking meant remembering.
    “Here you go.” The waitress appeared, her arms loaded with heavy platters. She shuffled the plates in front of him. “Need anything else?”
    “No.” He shook his head.
    “Just holler if you change your mind.” She stepped away from the booth and made her way to a couple that had ducked in from the rainstorm.
    He had meant to tell her thank you, but he cut into the eggs and sausage, forgetting for a minute that he was back on US soil. He was back where people exchanged pleasantries and small talk. It would take some getting used to again.
    All of it would take getting used to. For the first time in three years he didn’t have to listen for the sound of incoming mortar, or the cries for help. He didn’t have to watch where he stepped for trip wires or land mines. He could sleep without the fear of his throat being slashed.
    He stopped eating and looked out of the window again. He knew he was supposed to do all those things, but he didn’t know where to begin. It felt better to keep moving.
    He stood, pulling a stack of bills from his wallet and threw the cash on the table next to the uneaten platters.
    “Wait, do you want a to-go box?” his waitress called, but Gage was already out of the door.
    He threw his leg over his bike, kicked back the kickstand, and revved the engine. He swapped his ball cap out for his helmet, clasping the shield in place over his face. The only thing he could do now was ride. He steered onto the road, leaving the warm diner behind him.

2
    Avery
    A very flipped another page in the magazine. All the dresses looked the same. Mermaid skirts and white lace everywhere. She huffed. Did every bride demand tulle? Where was the dress that was meant for her curves?
    “Excuse me. We don’t have enough towels.”
    Avery brushed her auburn bangs out of the way to see an angry man flattening his palm on the counter.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hatley.” She folded the wedding magazine and shoved it under the desk. “You’re in 310, right?”
    “That’s right,” the man grunted. “We are going to be out for the afternoon. Maid service can drop them off now.”
    “Certainly.” Avery scribbled the reminder on a pad of paper. “Enjoy your afternoon. Do you need any recommendations?”
    The man didn’t bother to respond as he shuttled his wife out of the inn. Avery waited until they were in their car before grabbing an armful of towels and the key to the suite. She wasn’t about to bother the two housekeepers on staff. Jenny and Sara had enough to handle.
    Not only did they keep the rooms in order, they worked maintenance, answered the phones, and filled in for Avery when she wasn’t at the desk. It was part of the charm of running a small-town inn. The staff had to fill many roles.
    Avery knocked on the door, then used the key to enter. She placed the extra towels on the bathroom counter. She glanced