Trouble (Orsen Brothers #1) by Aubrey Watts

was a kid.
    It was the kind of place where the lines of rich and poor blended together and people dropped their pride and preconceptions at the door in exchange for a sense of camaraderie.
    At Sparrows everyone belonged, even the slightly rugged man sitting in the booth across from me. A man with hair the color of coffee beans and piercing blue eyes that slowly chipped away at my resolves.
    I could tell he had been though more than most. It wasn’t in any one thing he said, but more so in the stuff he didn’t say. He was a cynic dressed up like an optimist’s clothing. But he told me he found solace here, in the all American décor, off white walls, peeling leather booths, and checkered floors.
    And while I understood that sentiment, that still didn’t change the fact that he was a stranger. I eyed the door with the creeping reminder that I could easily escape and walk back to my car if things got weird.
    The restaurant buzzed around us, the muted voices of other patrons and clinking silverware filling in the gaps of quiet between us where actual conversation should have been. A waitress approached us and we ordered two house brewed coffees and breakfast specials—which consisted of eggs, toast, and bacon.
    He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. He was a secret personified and I found myself—against my better judgment—wanting to know more about him.
    “What?” I questioned, studying him over the edge of my steaming mug. “You were going to say something weren’t you?”
    He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Nothing,” he said, stirring a packet of sugar into his coffee “I was just going to thank you is all.”
    “Thank me?” I took a bite of my toast and shook my head, raising an eyebrow. “Breakfast is on you.”
    He laughed and surveyed the food spread out between us. “I know,” he said with a nod, “but you didn’t have to come.”
    “Right well.” I shrugged and took a bite of my eggs. They were cooked perfectly. Nice and dry, just the way I liked them. “Sustenance.”
    “So,” he spoke up, changing the subject. “How long have you been married?”
    I sat up straighter and rubbed the faded band of flesh on my ring finger. “Five years,” I answered automatically, “but I’m not anymore. I mean…I won’t be soon.”
    “No?” he questioned, stretching his muscular arms over his head, “why’s that?”
    I frowned at him. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
    He chuckled and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just makin’ friendly conversation, that’s all.”
    “Well asking someone you just met about the intricacies of her marriage is kind of crass don’t you think?”
    “Crass?” He exhaled profoundly and flicked his eyes up at the ceiling, an elongated sigh leaving his lips. “Venus, has anyone ever told you that you’re a little…”
    I rolled my eyes and waved my hand in the air, urging him to continue as I swallowed the food in my mouth.
    “Tight around the gills,” he finished, taking another sip of his coffee and nodding. “Yeah, that’s it.”
    “No.” I laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”
    Liam opened his mouth to say something else but a well-endowed waitress in a low cut top approached our table and interrupted him. “We’re fine,” he told her with an easy smile, slipping a five-dollar bill in the band of her apron, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just some more coffee.”
    She smiled and sauntered off, but not before looking back at him to swoon. I watched it all unfold and rolled my eyes. “You’re quite the ladies man aren’t you?” I spoke up when she was out of earshot.
    He shrugged and smiled at me, rolling the sleeves of his flannel up his arms. I swallowed hard. Something about a guy’s exposed forearms always made me flustered. “That jealousy I’m detecting in your tone?” he joked, raising his eyebrows at me.
    I balked and rolled my eyes. I was