Clay helped me make several rooms in my childhood home look far more cheerful before we left and headed back to the cafe. We were in the kitchen, catching our breath as he braced me against the large island in the middle, when my eyes landed on the cup and saucer sitting just behind the glass cabinet over the sink.

"What do you see, Char?" Clay's lips were on my bare shoulder, his eyes must have taken note of my focus out of the periphery. His lips left my skin and he turned so he could follow the line of my gaze. "Did they belong to her?"

I felt my lips curl up into a smile despite the sadness I felt. "Yeah, they were her favorites." We had an entire set of perfect china, but the cup and saucer didn't match the set, or one another, for that matter. They were a riot of color, mismatched and silly, and entirely perfect. I vaguely remembered asking her, when I was little why they didn't match anything we owned, but like a lot of my memories of her, the answer was nowhere to be found.

"You want to take them home?" He was looking down at me, his hands on my shoulders. "We can wrap them carefully and you can have them nearby." I moved my hands so they could pull his face down to mine, and as our lips met I felt his curve into the smile I'd fallen in love with. "Or we could make some more happy memories first." He muttered against my lips.

When we finally returned to the shop, I found that Keli had taken the deposit to the bank, that our customers were taking the change of management with the grace that I expected, and that my father had visited. Fuck. That last part was exactly what I muttered when Jensen told me after Clay had dropped me off and I met the younger man in my office.

"Did you-" He shook his head. I let out a relieved sigh. "Well at least there's that." I sat down behind the desk and he took one of the other chairs. "Do you know what he's sniffing around for?"

"Us," he leaned back and gave out his own sigh. "I know that Clay wants to stick around, MAX is near, we all know it, but I got to say-"

"What if-" it hit me, hard and fast. Shit. "I'm bait." Clay had said it, when they were doing my security system. That MAX could, if they thought it would work, use me as bait. What if that's what they were doing? Walter coming in, even after I'd put my proverbial foot down. Matthew and Alex in and out, the warnings over and over. "Jensen, can you get a message to Clay, without GOING to Clay?" He barely moved, but I knew he understood. "The party-we're going to have to make it a little bit bigger."

Truth time. KNOWING that you're being used as human bait to reel in your boyfriend and his team and being ALRIGHT with being bait aren't the same thing. It's really fucking difficult to act normally while setting your own trap for the first trap setters. I don't even know how to word that, is their a word for it? Hunter/hunted?

Clay worked overtime. Not on trap setting, oh God no. I had a feeling that Lt. Col. Franklin Clay could set a trap in his sleep after being on a three day drinking spree while heavily concussed. No, Clay worked overtime to keep me from being so stressed out and tense that I gave up the fucking entire plan just from my twitchiness. And thank fucking heaven for that, since I had a cake to create.

Keli becoming my manager gave me ample reason to finally out myself as The Little Drip's baker. I guess I could out myself as the owner too, but honestly, I was more excited to finally let people know that I created the treats they loved. The cake, a huge layered coffee cup, each layer a different flavor, each layer separated by a paired filling, was a work of edible art.

George helped me. Clay watched and cheered us on as the cake grew from a single layer to five. And when, on the day of the party, the final touches were completed, he whispered to me that EVERYTHING was in place, I knew that after that night, nothing would be the same.

Enzo's was ready for our group, which included not only my staff and their significant others and families, but Davey and George, and Clay's team and Carrie joined Jensen. Joey came to see the cake, sniffing at it, but then pulling me aside and forcing a promise from me that cannolis and tiramisu was off my menu out of professional courtesy he grudgingly offered that the cake looked delicious.

"Matthew and Alex Xavier are in the dining room with Walter," Clay offered as he held my chair, and I knew that my smile grew a tad strained. "Don't worry, sweetheart, this is our part." A slight nod from me, and our party began with speeches, food, and cheers.

"Oh, I thought I heard your voice, David." Walter, my lips pursed. "What's worth all this celebration? Is my daughter finally going to get married?" I felt his eyes on me, but Clay's warmth wasn't by my side, since he'd slipped away a few moments before. "I don't see her gentleman, guess not."

"Walter," it was George's voice that answered, and I had to bite my lip at the venom dripping from it. "I don't recall seeing your name on the invite list, perhaps you should scurry along to wherever the exterminator's table might be, isn't that what your LOVELY wife's family does for a living?"

"Always so quick with the quips," Walter bit out, "Too bad you weren't faster at-" he never got to finish, since there was something of a very loud commotion in the front of the restaurant, some smoke, a few bangs, and a hell of a lot of screams. "What the-"

"Miss Ramble," I was holding back the very long suffering sigh that seemed to have grown in the back of my throat over the course of MONTHS. Tweedle Dum was staring at his tiny notebook. "You said that this was a celebratory party for a Ms-"

"Keli Travis," I offered for the thousandth fucking time it seemed. "Yes, because I promoted her to manager of my coffee shop. As I said." For the thousandth fucking time.

"Right," Tweedle Dee offered, his own tiny notebook upright. "And you were seated-" he was glancing around the event room of Enzo's as though there were thousands of seats to choose from, than the ONE I was still fucking seated in.

"Right here," I bit out, wanting to smack my fucking head on the fucking table. "Just like I-"

"Said, yes, we understand." Do you? Do you fucking really?! "And since you were in this room, celebrating Ms. Travis' promotion, sitting in THIS seat, there's NO WAY you could SEE anything that happened in the other room, much less the front of the restaurant with Mr. Matthew or Alex Xavier and the gentlemen who claim they attacked them?"

I shook my head, feeling exhausted. "Carrie DiMarco said that there are security cameras outside, don't they show the attack? I mean, why are you asking ME when there are cameras?" Seriously, leave me the fuck alone, please.

"Miss Ramble, you should know that we have to be thorough, every person must be spoken to. Every statement taken, every fact checked." I raised an eyebrow and looked around the EMPTY room. Well, empty but for my uncles. "Other officers are taking care of-"

"You're finished," George hung up his cell phone and stalked up to us. "That was our lawyer. Unless you are taking our niece IN for further discussion AT THE STATION and READING her her rights, this is over. And if you ARE reading her her rights, then we're invoking her right to having her counsel present."

The cops shared a 'she's so guilty look', but let me go. And I FINALLY let the LONG suffering sigh loose. For fuck's sake, really?! In the car, with the quiet slowly rolling over the three of us, I waited for the first question to hit. Because I knew it would and I was curious. Not of which of my uncles would ask, not of what the question would be, but of how I would answer it.