head and gave me a once over before enquiring, “Have you lost weight?” Then she
answered her own question, “No. But definitely toned up. I am so getting my own Schwinn if that’s what it can do.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear and chanced a glance at Raiden to see his lips quirking
and his eyes on me.
Rachelle seemed not to notice the looks Raiden and I were giving each other or the
fact that neither of us spoke.
Instead, she cried, “Don’t order! You’re both getting the special. Tonight’s special kicks ass, if I do say so myself.” She turned to her brother. “Beer for you, bro.” She turned
to me. “Hanna, white wine or diet root beer?”
“Root beer,” I answered.
“On its way,” she replied .
She then bounced off, Raiden’s burnished highlights shining in her long, swinging,
brunette hair.
Unfortunately, albeit a gentleman (at times, when he wasn’t cursing or angry and backing
me up against walls), Raiden didn’t let this pass.
“So I didn’t notice you or I didn’t recognize you?”
“Whatever,” I mumbled to my knife and fork, which were rolled in a pink paper napkin
and rounded with a sticky tabbed slip of paper in robin’s egg blue ; one of Rachelle’s Café’s many signatures.
Raiden roared with laughter.
I quit avoiding him, lifted my head to watch and my discomfiture fled because I enjoyed
the show. So much I ended up grinning at him.
He ended his laughter with his face getting soft when he saw my grin, his lips ordering,
“Come here,” but his body not giving me the chance to comply (or not).
He stretched a long arm across the table and hooked me at the back of the neck. He
pulled me across, met me halfway and touched his lips to mine before he let me go.
This was not lost on the many patrons or Raiden’s sister. I felt it and saw it.
So much for going slow.
That was the only thing uncomfortable about dinner , except Raiden told me he’d share about the “job” he was working in town “later” , and he did this in a way I didn’t question at the time , but made me slightly troubled.
Mostly we talked about what went down with Bodhi and Heather. Or more to the point,
Raiden quizzed me about my less-than-stress-free day after the police arrested my
friends and raided my kitchen warehouse, a large part of that day being taken up with
the police escorting me through my warehouse and asking me questions then taking me
to the station to ask more and giving me updates in return.
“They found ice?” Raiden asked, his mouth still full of Rachelle’s delicious (she
was not wrong) grilled turkey and swiss sandwich with a thin coating of French dressing
and chili oil infused cream cheese.
I nodded. “Apparently lots of it. Though, they didn’t share how much.”
“And Joe was cool with you?”
Joe was Sherriff Joe who had been Sherriff Joe since I was about twelve.
I nodded again. “He asked me not to leave town , but he told me he knows I’m not involved.”
“Did he explain the operation?” Raiden went on.
Another nod from me.
“He said the dogs found little baggies of crystal meth at both the bike shop and my
place, most of it at my place hidden under the floorboards , but apparently they bagged the drugs at the bike shop. Evidently, Heather packed
it with my afghans and shipped it to drug people that were around my boutiques. They
got their drugs and hand delivered my shipments to the local shops so no one would
be the wiser. Though if the USPS sniffed it out, which thank God they didn’t, they’d
trace it back to me and I’d have uncomfortable questions to answer , but Heather and Bodhi would be long gone. Sherriff Joe said Bodhi told the police
all this when they interrogated him. They shipped it everywhere, all over the country.
Some of my shipments were drug free because they didn’t have a dealer to ship to in
that area , but a lot of them were tainted. Bodh ”
None of this made me
answered her own question, “No. But definitely toned up. I am so getting my own Schwinn if that’s what it can do.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear and chanced a glance at Raiden to see his lips quirking
and his eyes on me.
Rachelle seemed not to notice the looks Raiden and I were giving each other or the
fact that neither of us spoke.
Instead, she cried, “Don’t order! You’re both getting the special. Tonight’s special kicks ass, if I do say so myself.” She turned to her brother. “Beer for you, bro.” She turned
to me. “Hanna, white wine or diet root beer?”
“Root beer,” I answered.
“On its way,” she replied .
She then bounced off, Raiden’s burnished highlights shining in her long, swinging,
brunette hair.
Unfortunately, albeit a gentleman (at times, when he wasn’t cursing or angry and backing
me up against walls), Raiden didn’t let this pass.
“So I didn’t notice you or I didn’t recognize you?”
“Whatever,” I mumbled to my knife and fork, which were rolled in a pink paper napkin
and rounded with a sticky tabbed slip of paper in robin’s egg blue ; one of Rachelle’s Café’s many signatures.
Raiden roared with laughter.
I quit avoiding him, lifted my head to watch and my discomfiture fled because I enjoyed
the show. So much I ended up grinning at him.
He ended his laughter with his face getting soft when he saw my grin, his lips ordering,
“Come here,” but his body not giving me the chance to comply (or not).
He stretched a long arm across the table and hooked me at the back of the neck. He
pulled me across, met me halfway and touched his lips to mine before he let me go.
This was not lost on the many patrons or Raiden’s sister. I felt it and saw it.
So much for going slow.
That was the only thing uncomfortable about dinner , except Raiden told me he’d share about the “job” he was working in town “later” , and he did this in a way I didn’t question at the time , but made me slightly troubled.
Mostly we talked about what went down with Bodhi and Heather. Or more to the point,
Raiden quizzed me about my less-than-stress-free day after the police arrested my
friends and raided my kitchen warehouse, a large part of that day being taken up with
the police escorting me through my warehouse and asking me questions then taking me
to the station to ask more and giving me updates in return.
“They found ice?” Raiden asked, his mouth still full of Rachelle’s delicious (she
was not wrong) grilled turkey and swiss sandwich with a thin coating of French dressing
and chili oil infused cream cheese.
I nodded. “Apparently lots of it. Though, they didn’t share how much.”
“And Joe was cool with you?”
Joe was Sherriff Joe who had been Sherriff Joe since I was about twelve.
I nodded again. “He asked me not to leave town , but he told me he knows I’m not involved.”
“Did he explain the operation?” Raiden went on.
Another nod from me.
“He said the dogs found little baggies of crystal meth at both the bike shop and my
place, most of it at my place hidden under the floorboards , but apparently they bagged the drugs at the bike shop. Evidently, Heather packed
it with my afghans and shipped it to drug people that were around my boutiques. They
got their drugs and hand delivered my shipments to the local shops so no one would
be the wiser. Though if the USPS sniffed it out, which thank God they didn’t, they’d
trace it back to me and I’d have uncomfortable questions to answer , but Heather and Bodhi would be long gone. Sherriff Joe said Bodhi told the police
all this when they interrogated him. They shipped it everywhere, all over the country.
Some of my shipments were drug free because they didn’t have a dealer to ship to in
that area , but a lot of them were tainted. Bodh ”
None of this made me
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