left for personal reasons,” he said. “When you’re around cops long enough, you hear a lot about something called ‘burnout.’”
“You burned out,” she surmised.
“Not completely,” he told her. “I could’ve kept going. But things were unraveling around me. There’s a numbness that you have when you’re exposed to enough bloodshed. It doesn’t completely protect you, but it’s usually enough to get you through.”
“You stopped feeling numb?”
He paused for a long moment. Was he really going to relive this again? “Something broke through.” Clearing his throat, he shifted on the hard picnic table seat. “My partner and I had been tracking a meth lab into the woods outside the city. We secured a warrant, but we were a day too late. There was an explosion, and everyone in the house was killed.”
He stopped but couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. His mind was back in the woods outside Huntsville, a place he rarely allowed himself to go. “It wasn’t the first time I’d investigated a meth lab after an explosion and seen the dead bodies. But this time there was a family living in the house, too, with small children.”
She nodded. “I can see how that would affect someone.”
The part he didn’t reveal to her was that one of the children had been the same age as his own son and that the meth lab investigation had happened around the same time that he realized Gavin could be taken away from him. For weeks, he couldn’t sleep. When he’d finally gone back to work, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but the crime scene photos...and the face of that little boy.
With a court battle approaching, it had been the worst time to lose his job. But without focus, he could see himself slipping up in the field just long enough for his partner to be unprotected. One mistake was all it took. And the long hours he’d spent on the job over the past decade hadn’t boded well for him in the fight for custody, either. Tiffany had used that very fact as one of her main striking points.
It was a lose-lose situation, whatever he did. He’d given up the job he’d dedicated his life to, and he’d lost his son. All in one horrible year.
“How long ago was that?” Adrian asked, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the table.
“A little over a year.”
“And you’re still drifting.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I lost my family and my job. It’s hard to start over when there’s no center.”
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to move on?” she asked.
Wasn’t that why he was doing this wicked errand for Tiffany, for the promise of a new life? “Maybe. But it won’t come without...work.”
“Speaking as someone who has hit rock bottom—” she lifted her bottle in toast “—it’s not easy, but it can happen.”
There was the source of that shrewd judgment he’d seen under the surface. She was a single mother who had obviously been through hell with her ex and had come out on top—and all the better for it. Lifting his own beer bottle, he tapped it against the neck of hers. “Thanks.”
“Be careful, though,” she added. “Make sure the ends justify the means and you don’t end up hurting someone you love in the process.”
Someone you love. She was speaking of his son. But he couldn’t help thinking of Briar back at the tavern. When had he gone from thinking of her as the pretty innkeeper to someone you love?
Gavin was that someone. Gavin was his only chance at a content life, happiness. He couldn’t lose sight of that for one second, especially where Briar Browning was concerned.
CHAPTER FIVE
NEAR TEN O’CLOCK, Adrian and Cole made it back to the tavern. Standing outside the doors, the jukebox could be heard blaring an old Hank Williams song. Adrian smiled at him. “Pretty rowdy in there.”
“Is it always like this?” Cole wondered aloud.
“Liv lives for it,” Adrian said. “She’s as rowdy as three drunks on a bad night. She’s got help, Monica Slayer, most evenings. On others, we try to lend a hand, whoever has less to do. But if she had to, Olivia could hold this place up with one hand and have strength to spare.”
Cole hesitated before asking his next question. As far as Briar was concerned, his curiosity wouldn’t stop prodding. Though he and Adrian had talked of little else but the inn and the three shops adjacent to it all night long, he’d managed to keep the subject off the innkeeper. Until now. “And Briar?”
Adrian lifted her shoulder. “She’s been doing what she does ever since...well, she had to, really. But it’s wearing her down. She refuses help, but we can all see the responsibility of the inn weighs on her, heavily. The past year’s been especially difficult.”
“Her mother,” Cole surmised. Yes, he’d heard more of the conversation between Briar and whoever she’d been on the phone with than he’d have liked. The more he learned about Briar and why the inn was in such bad financial straits, the more he was riddled by guilt over what he was doing there.
“Yes,” Adrian said and not much more. Solidarity, he knew. Her dark eyes slit, scrutinizing. “Why are you so curious about Briar?”
Shifting, he glanced out over the bay. “She just... It really seems like she... I don’t know. Needs someone.”
Her lips pursed. “You’re interested in her.”
Alarm filtered through him swiftly. “I’m not the kind of man she needs.” It was the truth—as much for himself as to assure her.
Adrian lifted her chin in a short nod. “Not everyone’s brave enough to share the load she has. Or care for her the way she deserves to be cared for.”
Words formed on his tongue, but he stopped them before they could spill out. “You’re right about that.”
Her hand lifted to his arm. “Cole, I like you. And it’s because I like you that I’m going to be completely honest with you. Briar’s one of my oldest friends, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. If you’re just passing through, it’s best just to leave things be.”
He frowned over her shoulder at the bay again. “Adrian, I never had any intention—”
“I know,” she said with a small smile. “But I saw the way you were looking at her today.”
Avoiding her gaze again, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re looking out for her. I get it. But trust me. The last thing I want is to cause Briar any trouble.” Veering around her to the tavern door, he reached for the handle. “And you’re right. That’s all I’d ever be to her.”
“Cole—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, pushing the door open. “I’ll see you around, Adrian.” Before she could reply, he shouldered his way in, losing himself in the crowd.
He could use another stiff drink.
The place was twice as crowded as before. Over the heads of the people on the barstools, he caught a glimpse of the two women working there.
Cole edged toward the wall to avoid getting shouldered by any of the people milling about. For a moment, he simply observed.
Briar maneuvered her way through the crowd with two large pints of draft beer in each hand. She took them to a table, set them down and pocketed the patrons’ money. The gracious smile she aimed at them sucked Cole in. Made his pulse dance irregularly in that dark place it’d dwelled during the past few years.
Cole watched as a large man with a ruddy face coated with a prickly red goatee cornered Briar, laying beefy hands on her shoulders. She jerked in surprise, spinning around only to find herself locked