Espresso In The Morning

She frowned. “But you love soccer.”

“That was before—before rock climbing, before all the other stuff.” He waved his hand toward the clubs. “Before golf. I...” He shook his head. Soccer was just part of the problem, but he’d settle for this one concession. “I’m not playing soccer anymore.”

His mother met his gaze, her mouth quirked to the side. “I don’t know, Grey,” she said. “You know how I feel about idle time.”

“I’ll do stuff at home.”

She glanced away, her jaw tense. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, hon.”

“Then say I can quit. I don’t get why we have to always be doing something. We didn’t used to be like that. We used to have downtime.”

Her gaze dropped to the ground and she said, “Well, downtime is overrated.”

The urge to hit something welled up inside him. Without responding, he turned and headed again toward the car.

He glanced over his shoulder. The light had gone from his mother’s eyes. She seemed beaten down, defeated. The look struck him in the pit of his stomach.

When had that started? She’d always been tough, ever since he could remember.

Thinking back now, though, he had to admit she’d worn that defeated look on other occasions when she hadn’t thought he’d noticed. At some point, somehow, she’d changed.

And it wasn’t for the better.

* * *

A COLD WIND hit Lucas as he opened the back door of the coffee shop, trash bag in hand. Ramsey Carter, one of the high schoolers who worked part-time, pushed himself away from the wall and stubbed out a cigarette. He took the bag from Lucas.

“I was going to get that,” he said.

Lucas nodded at the cigarette butt. “I thought you were quitting.”

Ramsey grunted as he shoved the bag into the Dumpster. “I am. Maybe I should try a patch or something.”

“You’re pretty tough,” Lucas said. “You can kick a little nicotine.”

Ramsey was tough. Lucas had met him in this very spot nearly a year ago. The kid had taken a gang beat-down. Lucas had first befriended him, then eventually given him a job.

“I know,” Ramsey said. “I’ll do it. I’ll quit. I’ve just been a little stressed. You know, senior year and all.”

In spite of the cigarette breaks, Ramsey more than pulled his weight at The Coffee Stop. Lucas crossed his arms. “Have you figured out yet what you’ll do when you graduate?”

“College for sure, if I can get in. It’ll have to be in state. At least my grades should get me some Hope Scholarship money.”

“That’s a good move. Sometimes 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.