Stay With Me (Hope Valley Book 5)

by Jessica Prince

  And just like that, my annoyance faded. “Thanks.”

  “You need me to help in any way, you just say the word.”

  From my tracking of Rory, a skill I’d developed as a foster child—you had to learn to watch your surroundings without being noticed or, at the best your shit got stolen, and at worst, you got the hell beat out of you—and honed during my time as a SEAL, I spotted her moving back toward us without her realizing I was watching. I quickly shut the conversation down.

  “You two still good over here?”

  “Perfect, dollface,” I answered. As they usually did when I muttered that endearment, her cheeks took on a pale pink blush before she quickly cast her eyes away.

  “All right,” she said quickly, trying—and failing—to hide the effect that had on her. “Holler if you need anything.” Then she headed back down the bar, checking on Dusty before resuming her earlier conversation with Joe Silvester.

  I scanned the crowd gathered around the bar and clocked at least three men staring at Rory’s ass as she bent and rested her elbows on the counter, listening to one of Joe’s longwinded yet often hilarious stories. It wasn’t a calculated move on her part to garner more tips; it was just her way of giving the old man her undivided attention. Rory was sexy in an unintentional way. She didn’t even realize the hold she had on men, but every move she made, every smile she cast, made the men around her—me included—dream about what that smile would look like while they were buried deep inside her.

  She threw her head back on a loud laugh just then that engaged her entire face, her perky, round ass still on display, all that dark, gleaming hair tumbling down, and I knew without a doubt those assholes watching her now would be going home later tonight and jerking off to the image of Rory just like she was now: bent over, hair wild, smiling face bright.

  One of the men licked his lips, a calculating glint in his eyes as he opened his mouth to let out some lewd comment, but he caught me staring before he could speak. I gave my head an infinitesimal shake that made his face blanch before he quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t just been ogling the hot, unsuspecting bartender.

  I caught movement at my side but didn’t turn from the prick several places down as I sensed Linc stand from his stool. A second later, he tossed some money on the bar and clapped me on my shoulder. “Might be more subtle if you just jumped over the bar and pissed a circle around her,” he muttered, his voice full of humor.

  “Fuck off,” I grunted in return, finally feeling I’d made my point to the ogler and looking away from him to take a swig from my pint.

  “You have a good night too, buddy.” I got another shoulder clap, and then he lifted his arm and called loudly to Rory, “’Night, darlin’.”

  “Back at you, Linc. Give Eden my love.”

  Rory eventually made it back around to me, once again relieving me of my empty beer glass and pouring me another, only this time without having to ask. “You sticking around for a while?” she asked conversationally, taking the same pose she had with Joe.

  “’Til close,” I answered, looking back at the men who’d spent the past half hour watching her like she was a steak and they were a pack of mangy dogs who’d been starved for a week. “Don’t like the looks of those guys.”

  I tipped my chin in their direction, but she didn’t bother to look. Instead, she grinned openly and shook her head. “I think I proved to you already that I’m capable of handling myself.”

  “That you did,” I replied, turning my attention back to her and returning her smile. “But doesn’t change the fact that I’m staying ’til close. If for no other reason than my own peace of mind.”

  She shook her head again like I was being ridiculous, but this time she did it on a giggle. “All right. If you need that for your peace of mind, suit yourself, but come closing, I’m putting you to work.”

  My smile shifted into a smirk as I said, “Then it’s a damn good thing I’m good with my hands, huh?”

  She blushed at my tone and the innuendo laced through my words before brushing it off and playfully rolling her eyes as she stood tall and knocked her knuckles against the wood counter. “All right, stud.” My chest swelled at that endearment—the one she’d christened me with the first time we met and used liberally throughout our friendship—because I hadn’t heard her call me that in more than two years. Somehow, I managed not to show any outward reaction as she continued talking. “I’ve got people to see to. Rest up while you can, ’cause you’re gonna be on cleanup duty.”

  “Looking forward to it, dollface,” I murmured, watching that pink hit her cheeks. And damn if I wasn’t telling the truth. Even if I had to scrub down tables and sweep and mop the floor, I was more than happy to do it if it meant spending time with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rory

  The bar had emptied out thirty minutes before, and true to his word, Cord hung around and helped me close up—after he stared down a few of my male customers so hard that the guys hustled out of the bar like their asses were on fire shortly after I announced last call.

  My skin prickled with awareness as Cord moved through the large, empty space. I didn’t have to look at him to know exactly where he was at any given moment, I could sense him. But that didn’t mean I didn’t catch myself lifting my head from my task to watch as he lifted chairs and stacked them on recently wiped-down tables.

  I just couldn’t help myself. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I watched the muscles in his back and arms bulge and strain, pulling at the soft cotton of his maroon tee as he moved. My breasts swelled, and heat pooled deep in my belly as I stared at his perfect ass and strong thighs every time he bent over.

  Just friends, Rory, I chastised whenever I caught my mind moving down that path—which seemed to be every thirty seconds. Just friends, just friends, just friends.

  He lifted the last chair and set it in place, leaving the floor clear for my cleaning lady to come in to sweep and mop the next morning, and then he started toward me. “All done, dollface. Anything else you need me to do?”

  God, I’d never get used to hearing him call me dollface. He’d given me that for two years, and for two years, I’d cherished it. It was mine. It was special. Then he’d taken it away. When I got it back, it killed, but slowly the sting of that one word started to fade away, and the warmth it used to cause was coming back.

  “I’m just about done,” I answered as he took the stool across from me. My gaze fell to his strong, veined forearms as he rested them on the counter, his deeply tanned skin almost the same color as the pale, glossy wood. Who knew even a man’s forearms could be so damn sexy. “Thanks so much for helping, but you don’t have to stick around. I’ll be heading out soon anyway.”

  His answer was instant and easy. “I’ll wait.”

  I didn’t want to like that. I really didn’t. But at his words, a heat formed in my stomach, traveling up to my chest. I wanted to spend time with him. As foolish as it was, I found my heart racing every time he walked through the door of The Tap Room, excitement at the sight of him making the blood rush faster in my veins. I liked spending time with him. I began to crave those few hours I got to spend in his company, and having it now, with just the two of us, I felt that exhilaration creeping back up.

  I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of the shelves behind the bar and turned to Cord, placing it between us, along with two shot glasses.

  “What’s this?” he asked as I filled both of the glasses and carefully slid one closer to him.

  “Long-standing tradition,” I answered with a smile as I recounted the story. “My granddad was a very superstitious man. He had all these quirks, like he wore the same underwear every Sunday when the Steelers would play, clean or not. Used to drive my grandma crazy. And one of his things was, every night after close, he and whoever was on with him took a shot, toasting to another successful day.” I grabbed my shot glass and held it aloft. “So, since you’re here...”

  Cord caught on,
grabbed his glass, and said, “To another successful day.”

  “To another successful day,” I repeated, watching in rapt fascination as Cord knocked his shot back, his neck bobbing on a swallow. Damn, I wanted to run my tongue along that neck.

  He started to straighten, and I shook myself out of my stupor and quickly looked away before he caught me staring. I downed my shot, relishing the burn as the liquor trailed down and settled in my belly.

  Clearing my throat, I tried to shake off the way I continued to react to his invading presence and lifted the whiskey bottle, asking, “Another?”

  The white of his teeth stood out against his tanned skin as he smiled at me, those deep, mesmerizing eyes glinting. “You sure that’s not breaking the tradition or anything?”

  I looked at him with a wink and replied, “I’m pretty sure we’re safe,” before bringing the glass to my lips and throwing it back.

  He did the same, and once we finished our second shot, I screwed the cap on the whiskey bottle, replaced it on the shelf, and made quick work of washing the glasses.

  “You know,” he started as I busied my hands, “I like this.”

  I cocked my head to the side, pulling my brows together in curiosity. “Like what?”

  “Being here with you now.” My belly melted at his softly spoken admission. “It was never really just the two of us before, was it?”

  And just like that, the melting stopped and turned to stone, my stomach dropping to my feet with the heavy weight. As much as I tried to move past it, those little reminders still hurt like hell.

  “No,” I muttered, grabbing a rag to wipe down the counter between us even though it didn’t need it. I just couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. “Guess it wasn’t.”

  “Rory,” he called, the gentleness of his tone slicing at my insides. “Honey, look at me.” “Honey” was almost as good as “dollface”. Almost. I raised my head, my eyes landing on his before I could order them not to. “I have a lot to make up for,” he declared intensely. “I have a lot I have to make right, I know that. And I will, I swear, but I need you to stay with me, Rory. Stay with me in the here and now so I can do that.”

  He was right. Looking back on that ugly time wasn’t going to help, and if I was being honest, I’d felt better the past several days having his friendship back than I had in a good long while.

  “Okay, Cord,” I whispered in agreement. “I’m with you. In the here and now.” A flash of surprise at my easy agreement whipped across his face before he was replaced it with relief and contentment. “And in the here and now, it’s late as hell, and I’m about dead on my feet, so what do you say we call it a night?”

  “Let’s go, then, darlin’.” He stood from his stool and met me at the end of the bar.

  “I just need to lock the back door and grab my purse real quick, and then we can head out.”

  “Gimme the keys. I’ll lock up while you get your stuff.”

  I tossed him the large ring of keys I carried for the bar and headed for the office to get my purse. I had it hooked over my shoulder and had just stepped back into the main area of the bar when something suddenly came crashing through one of the huge windows that faced the street.

  I let out a startled scream and dropped to the ground, covering my head as the object flew past me and glass rained down all across the floor.

  “Rory!” At the sound of Cord’s shout, I looked up, still keeping my head protected as he ran from the back and skidded to the ground in front of me. “Shit, baby, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

  “I-I don’t know,” I stuttered as my wide, frightened eyes began scanning the floor around me.

  I knew Cord spotted the big rock the moment I did, because he let out a snarled “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” It looked more like a huge chunk of concrete than a rock, and someone had just thrown that thing through the window of my bar.

  “Stay here,” Cord clipped, rising to his feet. “Call nine-one-one and tell them what just happened. I’ll be back.”

  “What?” I screeched, latching on to his hand. “Where are you going?”

  His eyes were flashing with rage as he bit out, “I’m gonna go get the fucker who just threw a goddamn hunk of sidewalk through your fuckin’ window.”

  “No, you can’t,” I cried, panic infusing my blood as I tightened my grip on his hand when he tried to pull away. “You don’t know who it was. You could get hurt!”

  He crouched low and rested his palm on the side of my neck. “Baby, I’ll be fine. Just do what I said, yeah?”

  Before I had the chance to argue further, he pulled from my grip, stood to his full height, and ran to the door, moving faster than I’d ever seen him move.

  A cold, hard terror turned my insides to ice as Cord disappeared out of the bar and from my sight, and it was as if I was suddenly transported months back in time to that horrible phone call. I could see Cord lying in that hospital bed, his tanned skin unnaturally pale, his hard, strong body motionless.

  He’d run after whoever it was who’d just thrown a chuck of concrete at me through a plate glass window. He ran out without any thought to his own safety.

  What if something happens to him?

  It was that thought that kicked me into action. Spotting my discarded purse lying among the shattered glass, I grabbed the strap and yanked it to me, fishing around inside for my phone.

  “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

  My voice shook with dread as I spoke. “Th-this is Rory Hightower. I’m calling from The Tap Room on Main and Sycamore. My bar has just been vandalized. Someone shattered the window.”

  “Are you still there?” the dispatcher asked in a calm tone.

  “Y-yes. My friend…” I closed my eyes and swallowed down the bile creeping up my throat. “Can you please send someone quickly? My friend ran after whoever it was. I-I don’t want him to get hurt. Please.”

  The woman on the other end of the line asked questions that I did my very best to answer, but as I talked, all I could think about was whoever Cord was chasing having a gun and using it on him. I thought I’d lost him once and I barely survived that. I wasn’t sure I could a second time.

  “Ma’am, a unit is en route now.”

  “Okay, thank you. But my friend. He—”

  “Please stay inside until officers arrive,” she said, hearing the desperation in my voice and probably sensing I was about to do something incredibly stupid—say, run out into the dead of night after a man who was pursuing an unknown person who had the gall to throw a fucking chunk of concrete through the fucking window of my fucking bar while I was standing right in front of it.

  “You don’t understand,” I said, rising to my feet. My knees were unsteady, but I still managed to make it to the door Cord ran through less than a handful of minutes ago. “He could get hurt. I can’t let him—”

  “Ma’am,” the dispatcher said, her tone changing from soothing to authoritative. “Police are less than two minutes out. Please do not go outside.”

  Oh hell, I was going to do it. “Then you better tell them to cut those two minutes in half, because I’m this close to—” The words died on my tongue when I saw Cord’s tall, wide frame fill the glass of the door just before he pushed it open.

  I did a full-body scan of him, my eyes covering every inch from top to toe and back again. No cuts, no blood, no bullet holes.

  He was safe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rory

  “Are you okay?” I dropped my phone and rushed to Cord, pulling at his clothes, feeling everywhere I could just to make sure my eyes hadn’t deceived me.

  “I’m good, dollface.”

  He’s safe.

  I blew out a heavy sigh of relief.

  It was good he was safe.

  Because I was going to freaking kill him.

  A switch inside of me flipped just then, and my relief went up in a great big ball of fury as I pulled my hands back and slapped them against his chest.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” I shrieked, standing on my toes to get in his face.

  “Rory—”

  “You could’ve been hurt!” I said, still shouting the roof down. “What if he’d had a gun, huh? Or a knife!”

  “Dollface—”

  “Oh, don’t you dollface me! You ran out there, in the fucking dark, chasing down a bad guy, unarmed!”

  “Christ, baby. If you’d let me—”

  “I’ve already sat vigil by your hospital bed once, Cord Paulson! Don’t you dare make me do it again!”

  “Jeez, this bitch is crazy.”

  I snapped my mouth closed at the unexpected voice, then looked to the left of Cord and down. I stared at the angry kid currently struggling against Cord’s unrelenting grip on his shoulder before whipping my attention back to Cord. “What the hell is this?”

  The corner of his mouth trembled as he fought back laughter and answered, “This is what I was tryin’ to tell you while you were losing your mind just now. Spotted the kid through the windows as he was tearin’ outta here and knew he was the one who threw the rock.”

  “A kid?” I asked in bewilderment, my eyes ping-ponging back and forth between the tall man and the short, skinny boy.

  “Yeah, Rory,” Cord answered, his voice shaking with amusement.

  My face scrunched into a vicious glare as I snapped, “There’s not one damn thing about this that’s funny, Cord. You scared the hell out of me.”

  The humor immediately fled his expression, and tender understanding took its place. “I’m sorry, dollface,” he said softly. “It won’t happen again.”

  I let those words and that look wash over me and settle in, and my shoulders finally started to lose some of their stiffness as I scolded, “See that it doesn’t.”

  Cord finally let out a chuckle just as the sound of sirens filled the air and flashing blue and red lights lit the bar.