Page 73 of One Last Stand
Armed guards ran into the corridor, shouting.
“Get down,” she said, glancing at him. “Get way down, onto your face.”
“What?”
“We’ve just breached the castle.”
His eyes widened, and he put his head down.
“Don’t shoot!” she shouted as a hand went onto her back, pushed her forward.
She turned and spotted Shep’s tightened jaw as a guard also pushed him forward, knelt into his spine. “Don’t fight them!”
He put his hands behind his back, something flickering in his eyes.
Her wrists were zip-cuffed too.
And then they were rolled over. She stared up into bright fluorescent lights at the face of a palace guard, and all she could think to say was, “I’d like to talk to Prince Luka.”
* * *
Stop being a coward.What did Moose think was going to happen—that Tillie would say no to his marriage proposal? That somehow something catastrophic and horrible would happen if he finally embraced his happy ending?
Moose drove down the highway, the sun at twilight turning the mountains purple, the waters of the Knik Arm a deep blue, all of Alaska painted white. A beautiful night for the rest of his life to start.
And so what if their conversation over pie a few days ago, after the court hearing, hadn’t gone quite like he’d planned? . . .
“Tillie, you’re back!”
He should have known that the minute they walked back into the Skyport Diner, one of her former colleagues would recognize her. As it was, it was the rather unhelpful cook behind the order line who spotted her and came out to greet her. Lyle, king of the kitchen, if Moose remembered correctly. The guy still looked fresh out of the clink, short sleeves, wearing a hairnet, tats up his arms.
Lyle the Killer pulled Tillie into a hug. “Missed you, Steelrose.”
She gave him a slug. “I’m not that anymore.”
“Yeah, you’ll always be my favorite Iron Maiden.”
Moose tried not to roll his eyes.
She shook her head, then motioned for Moose to head over to their booth, the one by the window, where he’d spent the better part of a year or more pining for her, coming in late after rescues, ordering midnight fried chicken and pie just to have a chance to talk to her.
She knew how to make him feel that all would be right with the world.
She walked over to the pie case and helped herself to two slices of apple pie. After scooping ice cream onto each, she carried them over to the table and set one down in front of him. “Just like old times.”
He caught her hand as she slid in across from him. “Better than old times. Because before, you never got to sit with me, really.”
She smiled and pulled the pie over. “Yeah, well, I called and my manager said I could get my old job back. So enjoy it while you got it.”
His eyes widened. But of course she’d go back to work. Still . . . “I was . . . thinking . . .”
“Oh, this is good pie. I’ve missed it. Key lime is great, but there is nothing like a good Alaskan apple pie made with Haralson apples.”
A waitress came over, and Moose didn’t recognize her.
Tillie did. “So they moved you over to nights, Mandy?”
“Someone had to take your spot.” Mandy was midtwenties, pretty, with short brown hair. “But now that you’re back, I’m happy to get my night life back. My boyfriend hates my late-night shift.”