Espresso In The Morning. Dorie Graham

I wonder where I’d be if I’d gone that route,” Lucas said.

      Would Toby have gone with him to college? Would they have stayed out of the gangs, out of the military, and kept his friend alive?

      Ramsey gestured toward the building behind them. “Looks like you managed okay.”

      Lucas let his gaze travel over the back of the shop. “I’m not exactly saving the world, but I am managing.”

      “You saved me,” Ramsey said quietly.

      “You’re smarter than I was. You would’ve eventually figured things out on your own. I think you already knew you didn’t want that life anymore.”

      “I just got kind of sucked into it.”

      “I know,” Lucas said. “Happens to the best of us.”

      But Ramsey didn’t smile. “I don’t know if I ever said a proper thank-you for all you’ve done for me.”

      “Thank me by going to college and making something of yourself.”

      Ramsey nodded. “It’s a lot to figure out, you know, who I am and what I want to be. You said you joined the marines to straighten yourself out, but what made you decide to become a medevac pilot?”

      “I was an EMT first. I guess I did that because I liked being able to help people.” And helping people had felt good, because he’d spent too much of his childhood feeling helpless—helpless in the face of the rage that consumed his father in the days he was still with them and drinking.

      “So, why did you stop? I mean, couldn’t you still be an EMT, even if you weren’t in the marines?” Ramsey asked.

      “I just wanted a change,” Lucas said. “So, do we need to cut back your hours, so you can quit stressing about college?”

      “No, I’m good. I want the hours. I’m saving all I can to help pay tuition. I don’t want to put it all on my folks.”

      Lucas nodded.

      “I’m going to head back. Ken probably thinks I ran off or something.”

      Lucas followed the boy inside, turning into his office, as Ramsey headed toward the front. Lucas settled into his chair.

      So, why did you stop?

      That question had haunted him for the past year and a half, since he’d bought The Coffee Stop. Helping people had made him feel useful, but when Toby died, Lucas stopped feeling anything for a while. He wasn’t really sure why he’d walked away to buy this shop, but somewhere, somehow, he’d wanted a little peace after all the trauma.

      Still, had that been enough to have him turn his back on a career he’d been proud of, one that had fulfilled him? He’d had his share of people die on his watch. Each one felt like a penance of sorts, his punishment for the violence of his past. But he’d also saved lives. It seemed that after Toby, all he could focus on were the losses, though. And then he couldn’t take it anymore.

      He glanced around the cluttered office. He might not be saving people here. Owning a coffee shop might not be the most rewarding occupation, but at least nobody died on his watch here. That had to count for something.

      * * *

      THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Claire frowned as Grey shuffled into the coffee shop beside her. He hadn’t given up his plan to quit soccer. Why was he acting up now when she had so little energy to deal with him?

      She stiffened as Lucas Williams stepped to the counter. As his green gaze met hers, her pulse raced and her stomach fluttered. That too-familiar fear stirred in her, warring with unwanted...curiosity. Why had he been so friendly with her the other day?

      Not that she hadn’t enjoyed meeting him. He had the broad shoulders and strong demeanor that made her nervous, but something in his eyes calmed her and drew her in.

      “Good morning, Claire,” he said, then nodded toward Grey. “Grey.”

      Grey simply waved.

      “Good morning, Lucas,” she said.

      Even with the counter between them, his energy seemed to reach out and touch her. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. She focused on her wallet, pulling out her debit card.

      Her nerves couldn’t handle him this early. She said, “Large Americano, double shot, two pumps of vanilla, room for cream and a banana-strawberry sm—”

      “Espresso,” Grey said and crossed his arms. “No smoothie. I want an espresso.”

      Lucas grinned and asked, “Do you want just a shot, straight up, or in an Americano, like your mom, or do you prefer something else?”

      Grey hesitated.

      “Honey, are you sure?” Claire asked. “You’re still a bit young for coffee.”

      Her son ignored her and asked Lucas, “Can’t you mix it into a drink with milk or something and some sweet stuff?”

      “Hot or cold?” Lucas asked.

      “Hot.”

      “Do you like chocolate?”

      “I’m a kid. What do you think?” Grey asked.

      Lucas grinned. “You don’t have to be a kid to appreciate chocolate,” he said. “I’ve got just the thing.”

      As he moved away to make the drinks, Claire turned to Grey. “So, no more smoothies and no more soccer. That’s the new plan?” she asked.

      He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You mean you’re cool with no soccer?”

      “We’re going to have to find something else for you to do. I don’t know if Becca is up to having you stay there more than you do already. I hate to even ask her,” she said. “She’s so strict about their schedule and having it quiet when your uncle Kyle gets home. And you can’t be home alone.”

      “Why can’t you be at home? You used to work from home all the time,” Grey said.

      She didn’t answer as they moved down the counter. The quiet and isolation of being home were too hard for her. Cranking her music merely held the flashbacks at bay. If she ever stopped to think about the quiet behind the music...

      “Maybe you can stay with Gram,” she said. “She’s always complaining she doesn’t see you enough. She wants you to visit some weekend, by the way—spend the night.”

      “Gram?” Grey shook his head, his voice rising. “I don’t want to stay with Gram. I want to stay with you. At home. You can work from there, like you used to.”

      Claire glanced at Lucas, embarrassed the man should witness her argument with her son. “This isn’t the time or the place,” she said to Grey. “We’ll talk about it later.”

      “I don’t want to talk about it later,” Grey said. He swiped his sleeve across his face. “I’ll go stay with Gram this weekend if I have to, but I’m not staying with her after school. It doesn’t make sense.”

      The sun streamed through the glass front door. Claire focused on the beam of light. If only she could dissolve into the sunshine, she wouldn’t have to deal with this. She turned to Grey and touched his shoulder, but he shook her off. Why couldn’t he just be happy with things the way they were?

      “Grey,” she said, keeping her tone steady. “I’ll let Gram know you can stay Friday night. We’ll talk about the rest later. I have to think about whether I can work from home with you there or see if she’s okay with having you three afternoons a week. It’s a lot to ask.”

      Grey stood stiffly beside her. “She won’t mind,” he said. “She likes hanging out with me.”

      “Americano double shot, two pumps of vanilla, with room. I added a little whipped cream on top.” Lucas placed their drinks on the counter. “And a mocha