REDEEMING THE ROSE: GILDED KNIGHTS SERIES BOOK 1

by Finn, Emilia

  “Then I guess that means you like guys.”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  I bark out a loud laugh. “Nope. I’m all about freedom to do whatever the fuck you want with your life, your body, and your feelings. Doesn’t affect me in the least. Having said that, if you were into chicks, I might have watched you closer, seeing as how my sister is a chick, and you’re over here working for hugs.”

  “She gives good hugs,” he blushes. “She’s a total sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, a sweetheart who struggles to say no to any person with a sob story. Which reminds me…”

  I push up from my stool and grab both coffees. Leaving Roy standing where he is, I step into the back half of the shop and slow before the office comes into view.

  Immediately, I’m met with a woman’s voice—not Abby’s—as she speaks of dead aunts and estate sales.

  Sob story. Called it.

  With a huff of impatience, I stomp toward the office door, making my presence known so both women stop speaking and glance up. Abby is already facing my direction, but her visitor sits with her back to the door, which means she has to twist in her seat, stretch her neck around, and look up to meet my gaze.

  I stop at the doorway and lean against the doorframe, not because I’m settling in for a chat, but because the eyes that meet mine are made of electricity. Bright and knowing, hard yet playful. This woman is petite, though not like Abby is. She’s blonde; a stark contrast to Abby’s red. Her skin comes with a sexy olive tone nothing like Abby’s Irish white.

  If anything, her tan sits somewhere between my sister’s and mine, and it bothers me that I notice that about her.

  “Oh, Mitchell!” Abby gleefully exclaims. “This is Nadia Reynolds, she’s new to town, and just accepted a position here at the shop. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Nadia’s eyes scour along my body as though it was a physical touch. I feel the heat from her kaleidoscope eyes—a kaleidoscope, because they’re blue, but they’re also green, but they also come with golden flecks—as they move along my legs, my thighs, my crotch and stomach. She’s not shy about looking, not meek about lingering in certain places. Her hair is long, blonde, and hangs loose so the ends dangle over the back of her chair. She wears a white, three-quarter sleeved shirt, and I catch a peek of black dress pants and heels as she twists in her seat.

  “Nadia,” Abby tries again when I remain silent. “My brother, Mitchell. He’s strange sometimes, and doesn’t talk a whole lot.”

  I talk. When I wanna.

  “That’s okay.” Nadia flashes a smile so big, so fucking potent, it’s like a sledgehammer to the gut.

  Pushing up to stand, the woman shows off a tiny waist, wide hips, and a set of tits that sit up and demand I stare.

  Stop staring. Stop staring!

  “I’ve been accused of talking so much,” Nadia says with a sly grin, “that some would say I provide enough conversation for both of us.” She knows I’m looking at her body, knows I’m objectifying her, but she doesn’t shrink away under my gaze. Instead, she offers a hand and smirks until I eventually meet her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Mitchell. Abby has told me so much about her family, I feel like I already know you.”

  Hesitantly, I shuffle my coffees and reach out to accept her hand, only to regret it the second our skin touches. “You’ve been here, what, half an hour, and you’re already discussing family connections?”

  “Nadia is my new store manager,” Abby announces from where she sits.

  “And she ‘accepted’ the position?” I release Nadia’s hand and scowl at the warning lights going off in my brain. I can’t help it. Looking after Abby has been my mission since the day she was born too early and sent straight to the special care unit. “Shouldn’t we be saying that you, Abby, accepted her application to work here?”

  “Well, I think it’s a mutually beneficial decision, and absolutely doesn’t require a big brother’s attitude or seal of approval.” Pushing up to stand, Abby comes around her desk and stops between me and our newcomer. She takes her coffee without asking, takes a sip and ‘ahhh’s with a little extra emphasis, then she looks to Nadia and grins. “Welcome aboard. I’m so very excited to have you here.”

  “I’m excited to be here.”

  Where one might offer a hand to shake at the end of a job interview, Nadia figures ‘fuck it’ and instead goes in for a hug. She’s taller than Abby, though that’s not a difficult feat.

  When the women come together, Nadia’s eyes come to mine, her smirk notches up, and then they part, and Nadia’s hand remains in Abby’s for a moment. “I’ll be here bright and early Monday morning to get started.”

  “And in the meantime,” Abby releases her, “I hope you get time to explore our town. There are a lot of wonderful local resources here. I know it would be quicker, and probably cheaper, to order the things you need online, but if you give our local wares a chance, I’m certain you’ll be pleased with the end result.”

  “I promise to look around.” Nadia takes a step back, bends down, and picks up a handbag that, while deceptively small, seems to weigh a metric ton, going by the way she grunts and swings it onto her arm.

  Stopping with a glance for me, she smiles again, tips her chin, and peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. “It was wonderful meeting you, Mitchell. If I’m ever in need of medical assistance, I sure hope they send you.”

  She strides out of the office without another word, sways her hips as she walks, click-click-clicks in a pair of sexy heels that make my stomach flutter, then she turns toward the front of the shop and escapes.

  “Not a single dang word, Mitchell Rosa.”

  I swing around at Abby’s admonishment and give her more than one. “Abigail, no.”

  “It’s done. Employment contracts have been signed, she starts on Monday, and there isn’t a thing you can say or do that will change my mind.”

  “You didn’t even run this by anyone!” I close the office door, then come around to lower into the chair Nadia just vacated. The seat is warm, and her perfume lingers, beating out even the smell of roses that suffocates anyone who walks through the front door of the shop. “Where’d you find her? How’d you hide all of this from us?”

  “I didn’t hide it.” Abby scoffs and drops down into her chair, and slowly spins her coffee as she speaks. “I put an ad in the paper, I put an ad online, and I went searching for the perfect person. Nadia Reynolds is completely unqualified for the position—”

  “What?”

  “But she wants it anyway. She wants a job with pretty things and kind people. She wants out of the rat race she had where she comes from, with the fake people and the schmoozing lunches. She wanted away from her family…” Abby’s tone changes, darkens. “Though I can’t say I entirely relate or agree with that one, I can be judgment-free enough to hear her out. I don’t know all of her reasons, Mitchell, but I know she’s sweet, and charming, and charismatic. I think, if all she does while working for me, is stand by the front door and greet people as they walk in, then she’ll already be adding value. But I’ll teach her, too, how to arrange and care for flowers. I’ll teach her how to work the till, and then later, she’ll teach me the things she learned at college.”

  “So she can mess with your books and rob you blind?”

  “No! Nobody is going to rob me, least of all that sweet woman I just met.”

  “Knock knock.” A soft voice accompanied by an actual knocking sound makes Abby gasp, and my spine lock straight.

  I don’t dare turn around, I can’t bear to meet her eyes, so instead, I watch Abby as her cheeks pale and her eyes shimmer.

  “N-Nadia,” Abby stammers. “I’m so so—”

  “I was just coming back to tell you Bobby Kincaid is in the store. Roy said that you like to know when he’s here.”

  “Uh… yeah, I do.” Abby pushes herself up straight and smooths down invisible wrinkles in her top. “I’ll come on out. Thanks for letting me know.” My sister’s furious
gaze comes to mine, her eyes spark with anger mixed with regret, then she lifts her chin and comes around the desk and barely—barely—controls her urge to smack me as she passes.

  “So…” The second my sister is gone, Nadia speaks, mocking, taunting, and ends on a snicker. “This is awkward.”

  Slowly, I spin in my chair, her chair, and acknowledge that everything is in reverse. When I first arrived, it was she sitting in this chair, twisting her torso to meet my eyes. Now, she’s the one standing at the door, and I’m the one sitting low.

  “I can’t believe you just announced my plans to rob this place,” she continues to tease. “Didn’t you know that for a heist to be successful, you really shouldn’t announce it to the world? It’s called Stealing 101, duh.”

  “Nadia…” I push up to stand, swallow my million retorts about how I see through her bullshit, and how I plan to stop her before she hurts my sister. But also, her tits look fantastic in that shirt, and her lips are plumper than anyone’s I know, but without the fake look. “You look like a porn star, ya know that?”

  Her eyes bulge for just a second. Veins in her neck throb while she processes what I just said. Then a brow shoots up high. “A porn star?” she repeats. “One of the good ones, I hope. I don’t wanna be a moaner. Those chicks always annoy me on movie night.”

  “I feel like those pants should be leather, at least.” Words continue to vomit from my mouth. “What you’re wearing is too professional.”

  “Next time.” She flashes a sexy grin. “I was saving the leather for heist night.”

  “I’m gonna catch you out.” I drop my hands into my pockets and scowl. “No one fucks with my baby sister, so if you’re here to do any harm, you’ll have to go through me.”

  “Lucky you look good enough to star in those movies too, then, huh? I wasn’t actually gonna rob this place, but now you’re throwing down those sorts of promises, a girl might be tempted to pivot and learn the art of sleuthing.”

  “Why are you here, Miss Reynolds? Why my sister?”

  “Because word on the street is she’s sweet as pie, treats people like gold, and has four older brothers. The rest look like you?”

  “Five brothers. And no, they don’t.”

  “Bummer. What are your feelings on the monkey song?”

  “The mon—” I have to shake my head in an attempt to keep up. “What?”

  “There were six in the bed, and the little one,” she points back at herself, “said ‘go harder. Go harder’.”

  “Nadia?” Abby swings around from the front of the shop, oblivious to her assistant’s filth, and flashes a wide smile when she notices that I’m not being an ass anymore. “Good, you’re still here. And you two have settled your differences. Wonderful.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Nadia turns away and moves toward my sister. “He didn’t speak much at all while you were out front.” She peeks over her shoulder just before they disappear. “Guess he’s shy.”

  “He can be,” Abby’s voice quietens as they get further and further away. “Once he knows you, he’s fine and normal again, but it usually takes a minute. Let me show you around while you’re here.”

  My phone chirps in my pants pocket so the device vibrates against my leg. One buzz, two, three. Nadia’s perfume is potent, lingering in my nose. Her blonde hair still somehow sways in my mind. And her hips…

  Dropping a hand into my pocket and fishing out my phone, I check the screen for just a second, scowl, and hit accept. “Luc?”

  “She said yes!” He whoops so loud that I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Rosa, I asked Kari to marry me, and she said yes!”

  “Oh shit.” A grin creeps across my face even as I try to fight it. I don’t want to smile, and I don’t know why I don’t want to. It’s some kind of lingering grumpiness aimed for the sexy Nadia, despite the fact she’s no longer in the room. “Man, that’s awesome. Congratulations.”

  3

  Nadia

  Porn and Popcorn

  Jonah’s store is a cute little supermarket on the main street of this new town I call home.

  I describe it as little because, in comparison to the stores I know, it’s teeny. But for the people who live here, it’s the biggest they have. No alternatives means everyone shops here, and those who don’t, piss the mailman off when he’s forced to deliver heavier items coming in the post.

  It’s me. I’m the one who ordered an oven online and got a lecture from the guy delivering it.

  I push a half-full shopping cart in front of me, heavy from the package of spring water I dropped into the bottom, and hard to manage because of the bent wheel that screams and fights me on direction. But I make progress, and work my way through the sugar aisle. Chocolate. Candy. Chips.

  I hum under my breath and mentally plan out my next five thousand calories. Which means tomorrow, I need to plan out my next workout, or regret the candy.

  I really don’t want to regret the candy.

  Dropping a king-size chocolate bar on top of the growing pile in my cart, I ignore the incessant beeping from my phone, and instead go to work planning my first weekly movie night. It’s Friday night, and from now on, that means bad food, good booze, and an entertaining movie—and while I have all that, I’ll have my little friend on the charger so it’s ready when I climb into bed.

  And by friend, I mean a sex toy. Sue me. I don’t care.

  My phone buzzes. My cousins demand my attention, and lawyers wish for a word with me, but I’m saying nope, not today. There’s nothing I can say or do to progress this financial situation along. I’m not going against the wishes Aunt Tracey had written up in her will, so accepting a call and arguing the point with someone who refuses to listen would be nothing more than a waste of my time.

  So I cut out the middleman and go straight to candy and movies, then bed and thoughts of a certain EMT with a bad attitude.

  Abigail Rosa, my new boss, might be the sweetest, gentlest, kindest person I’ve ever met in my life. And I mean that literally. Softly spoken, tiny in presence, and with manners that often made me feel awkward during my interview. Surely, it should have been me opening doors and fetching water. But no, Abby was in hostess mode, making sure I was comfortable and happy, and when she should have been asking me about work ethic or experience, she instead asked of my heart and home, my family and hobbies.

  It was either the best or the worst job interview of all time. I still haven’t decided which.

  But I got the job, so there’s that. And with only one watchdog making sure I don’t sink the Rosa ship. So that’s a happy positive.

  Stopping in front of the display of flavored popcorn, I peruse the merits of salted versus caramel, and sea salt versus maple syrup. I ponder which I feel most drawn to, since a movie night means popcorn is compulsory, but when a shadow falls over the display in front of me, and the scent of masculinity and sex filters through my nose, I turn just a little and catch sight of a guy several inches taller than me, reaching over my shoulder and grabbing a bag of the salted popcorn.

  “Excuse me,” he says without actually looking at me. “Sorry.”

  He snags his snack without so much as glancing down, like I’m invisible and he’s merely reaching around a pole, but when I clear my throat in an effort to maintain my personal space, a pair of moss green eyes whip down to mine, and focus.

  “You need me to move aside, or…?”

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” The guy with a sun-kissed tan and bright eyes that niggle at something in my mind bounces back like I’m made of electricity, holds his hands high in surrender, and grits his teeth when I raise a brow. “I didn’t mean to get up in your space. I just wanted the popcorn real quick, then I’m outta here.”

  “In a hurry?” I step back to rest against the opposite shelf display, and study this guy who is six three, maybe six four, and well over two hundred pounds heavy.

  In my mind, I circle around the fact that I’ve now met three men since moving to town; on
e was a teenager, and the other two could compete with the Hemsworth brothers for the front cover of a glossy magazine.

  And to think, I thought the pool was empty. Where I come from, the good-looking, kind men are already taken, and the ones who looked at me for a fun time had no business looking outside their own home.

  I cast a fast glance along this guy’s left arm—muscle, tan, a tease of a little ink—and just like I did with Mitchell Rosa, I search for evidence of a wedding ring: tan line, indents in his skin… anything at all that would imply a missus at home. But when I come up empty, I glance back up and smile for the sexy stranger.

  “Hurrying home,” he finally answers. “I’ve been working all week, I’m off shift for the next…” he glances down at his watch, “thirty-six hours. Then I’m on again, and I’ll regret it if I didn’t maximize every single free second I have to sit on my couch and play slob.”

  “Tighty-whities, Cheetos, and Bruce Willis?”

  He scoffs. “I wish. Pants, probably. Popcorn. Hugh Grant.”

  Which means he’s entertaining a lady.

  And that’s my cue to leave.

  “Have fun with that. Enjoy your time off, and your chick flick.”

  I spin on my heels and place my hands on my cart to push it away, only to squeal when a man stands at the end and allows me only an inch before the front of the cart smacks his thighs.

  “Jesus! Mitchell fucking Rosa. You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Mitchell fucking Rosa?” The first guy raises a quizzical brow and studies me with new eyes. “I’m missing information.”

  “Nix,” Mitchell speaks from between thin lips that scream disapproval. “This is Nadia Reynolds. Ab’s new dependent.” He looks into my eyes and smirks. “I mean, employee. Nadia, that guy you were considering taking home is Nixon Rosa. Your new boss’ brother.”

  “Nixon?” I shuffle through the files in my mind and pinpoint the information Abby gave me about her family. “The firefighter,” I settle on. “That would explain the fact you’re on shift again in a day and a half.”