Keeping 6 (Rock Point Book 1)

by Freya Barker

  The asshole is looking into me. That’s the only reason he’s been in here in the first place. Not for me. Don’t I feel like an idiot.

  “You’re not an idiot,” he says, making it clear that I said that out loud.

  I push up from the chair and walk to the counter where I mindlessly start wiping down the coffee machine—just to give my hands something to do. Otherwise I might actually throw something, I’m so pissed.

  “Kerry—look at me.” He’s walked up right behind me, and the sound of his voice so close startles me.

  “Agent Gomez, why don’t you just spit it out? Tell me what the hell you really want to know, since it’s clear you’ve come with an agenda and not for my pastries,” I snap, swinging around to face him. He’s standing a little closer than I’d anticipated, and I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. Deep, dark pools of chocolate, rimmed with ridiculously long lashes for a man, that trace my face with curiosity. I fight to hang onto my anger, seeing as the intensity in his eyes makes me a little weak in the knees. Damn him.

  “Very well,” he says slowly, after a very pregnant and slightly uncomfortable pause. “I believe you might be able to help out with a case I’m working on.” He stops to gauge my reaction, and I’m determined not to give him one.

  “Go on,” I urge him, none too kindly.

  “The Gilded Feather Auction House,” he repeats the name of the online company I’ve dealt with a couple of times now. “I understand you’ve had some dealings with them?”

  I’ve done nothing wrong so I don’t hesitate telling him. “I have. I’ve bid on some unique books and won my bid twice. Why?”

  He ignores my question and asks one of his own. “What did you buy from them?”

  “Like I said, some unique books. First editions, out of prints, and a few author signed copies,” I tell him honestly.

  “Is there a market here for those things?” he wants to know.

  “Not huge here in Durango but for my online store there is. I mentioned I get requests for specific editions, and when I see them come up on the auction block, I take a chance and put in a bid. Sometimes there are more books in the lot and I end up with extra stock, but I often find takers for those as well.” I watch Damian nod pensively.

  “So let me get this: the lot you buy gets shipped here and you send the requested edition to the customer and hang on to the rest?”

  “That’s usually how it works,” I tell him with a shrug, turning to the door when the bell rings in a customer. “Give me a second.” I hold up my finger and greet Jeannie Brooks, a frequent customer since I opened the store. “Hey, Jeannie. Anything specific today or are you just browsing?” I like the middle-aged woman. She lives in the mountains just north of town. Despite her rough appearance—she generally looks like a lumberjack, always wearing plaid flannel and a ball cap—Jeannie is highly intelligent and quite sweet-natured. Almost shy. I’m not surprised she gives Damian a thorough once-over before answering softly.

  “Anything new?” she asks.

  “Yep. Go check the mystery and suspense section. I received a load of new releases I’ve added to the shelves.” I point her in that direction. “Want a coffee while you browse?” On her nod, I turn to brew her a fresh one, finding Damian leaning with a hip against the counter, staring at me.

  “What?” I snap.

  “I see you’re busy, so I’ll cut it short,” he says, tilting his head in Jeannie’s direction. “Two things: First I’d love to have a look at any paperwork you might have on those bids you placed and would appreciate a detailed list of the shipments. I’ll come back for it later.” I can sense him take a step closer, feeling the heat of him in my back. “Secondly,” he whispers, his breath brushing my ear. “I may have come with an ulterior motive, but make no mistake, Gypsy—I volunteered for the job for a reason.”

  Without waiting for my response, he moves away. My hands are gripping the edge of the counter so hard, my knuckles turn white. Only when I hear the bell on the door announce his departure do I move.

  “Phew,” I hear Jeannie say. “I could feel the heat over here.”

  I turn to see her standing by the window, watching Damian stalk to his car, before she turns to me. “Don’t know about you,” she says, a smile tugging at her mouth. “But that man gives brooding alpha a whole new meaning.”

  Yes. Yes, he does.

  THAT AFTERNOON, AFTER Jeannie leaves with three new paperbacks in her bag and Marya arrives for her shift, I dive into my office. Booting up my computer, it doesn’t take me long to print out the information Damian requested. Two invoices and a list of books I received in the first shipment. I don’t know exactly what is in the second shipment, since it had only been identified as a collection of first edition prints. I grab the phone to give Kim a call.

  “It’s Kerry,” I say, when she answers. “I have a quick question. Do you have that box close by? I need to know what’s inside.”

  “Crap. I brought it home already, right after we last spoke, so it would be there when you come over. Didn’t want to run the risk of forgetting,” Kim explains. “I can open it tonight when I get home.”

  “No worries. Whenever you have a chance,” I assure her. I don’t tell her what I need it for and she doesn’t ask.

  “I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” she says. “And by the way, I’m emailing an order. Running low on some of the newer releases.”

  The rest of the conversation revolves around normal day-to-day business, and by the time I hang up, it’s already closing in on five o’clock. I have to hurry if I want to get my errands done today.

  I rush out the door with a final wave to Marya, who is closing tonight. I’ve got to hurry if I want to get to the DMV office before they shut the doors.

  BY THE TIME I FINALLY roll into bed, I’ve managed to get my license renewed in the nick of time and hauled a week’s worth of groceries up the mountain. I’d grabbed dinner on the fly in town so I could skip cooking. That’s one of the things I still can’t quite get used to; cooking for one. Don’t get me wrong, I love puttering in the kitchen, and baking for the store is one of my favorite things to do in my spare time. Cooking a meal, though? It’s only fun when there’s someone to enjoy it with. Still, a lot of the time I force myself and end up cooking for an orphanage, giving me individual portions to freeze for a few days.

  It’s just after nine when I snuggle in bed with my Kindle. I love the smell and feel of books, but when it comes to reading, I really like the convenience of my e-reader. It fits in my purse and I lug it everywhere. My eyes are gritty, and I can’t seem to keep my focus on what I’m reading. Instead my mind insists on replaying the conversation with Damian. I probably should worry about his line of questioning, but every time I think of his voice, the feel of his proximity, the barely-there touch of his breath on my skin, I break out in goosebumps.

  I finally give up, put my Kindle down, and turn off the bedside lamp.

  The persistent ringing of my phone wakes me up a few hours later, and I reach over to my nightstand.

  “Hello?” I answer it, my eyes still closed, without checking the caller first.

  “Ms. Emerson? This is Superior Security. The alarm just went off at Kerry’s Korner,” the woman’s voice on the other end of the line calmly states.

  “What?” I shoot up straight in bed and flick on the bedside lamp to look at my clock. Three-twenty, it’s the middle of the damn night.

  “I guess it’s not you then,” the woman concludes. “Our security is already en route, but I am putting a call into police right now. Please stay on the line.”

  With my phone tucked between my ear and my shoulder, I try to get dressed as best I can. In sweatpants, my sleep shirt, and my purse, I’m already on my way out the door when the woman comes back on.

  “Police are on the way. Please don’t approach or enter the premises without police escort,” she cautions. As if I would.

  “Thank you. I won’t,” I answer anyway, ending t
he call and jumping in my car.

  I’m surprised to see a dark SUV pull into the parking lot at the same time I do. There is already a Superior Alarm Services car and two patrol cars parked out front. My surprise is even bigger when I see Damian step out of the SUV and stalk over to my car, his eyes piercing through the windshield.

  CHAPTER 4

  Damian

  “Are we good here?” Luna asks when the suspect is lead off in handcuffs to the back of a waiting Durango PD vehicle. The guy was wanted in relation to a child porn investigation in Ohio and had been hiding out in a rental apartment here in Durango. Police got wind of him a few days ago and kept him under surveillance while getting the appropriate warrants issued. Tonight was supposed to be an easy pick up, but the guy turned out to be armed and highly agitated. Our office was called in for backup and by the time we got on scene, a full standoff was in place. Luna is a good negotiator and easily took over talks with the unpredictable suspect, managing to talk him into giving himself up.

  By now it’s after three in the morning, and we’ve been out here all night. “Yeah, we’re good. Head on home. I’m not gonna bother, will grab some shut-eye in the office.” It’s too late for me to head home. Living thirty-five minutes away, north of Hermosa, can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s no way I’m going to give up my house by the river.

  Luna gets in her car and lifts a hand as she turns onto the street. I’m about to get in my own car when Keith Blackfoot walks up.

  “You off?” he asks, hanging on to my door.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Thanks for your help. That girl’s pretty good,” he says, watching Luna’s taillights disappear in the distance.

  “Agent Roosberg has a knack,” I tell him with a bit of an edge. I like the guy, but he’d better show some respect to my agents. Luna would likely knee him in the gonads if she heard him refer to her as girl.

  “That she does,” he mutters before turning his eyes to me. “Worked with her for long?” he asks, and I roll my eyes, making him chuckle.

  “Ask me straight. You want to know if she’s got a man?” I’m not fucking Cupid, and I have no desire to stand here playing a game of twenty questions. I have a conference call scheduled for eight thirty tomorrow morning, and as it is, I’ll be lucky to catch a couple of hours sleep.

  “Just wondering,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “She colors me impressed. On quite a few levels,” he adds, grinning.

  “Shit. I don’t wanna know it,” I grunt, flinching at the thought. Luna is a colleague and has become a friend over the past few years. She’s more like a sister than anything else, and I just can’t look at her any other way.

  “I don’t have the same hang-ups you do, Gomez. I don’t have a problem grabbing an opportunity when it presents itself,” he says with a smirk. He was there not too long ago when I had to kindly but firmly tell the police department’s pretty PR liaison I don’t ever mix business with pleasure. This after she’d propositioned me for the fourth or fifth time. It had been embarrassing for her, for me, and I thought for Keith as well, but he’d apparently found it amusing. So much so, that he likes poking at me from time to time. Asswipe.

  Keith is about to say something else when his radio goes off. “Burglary in progress. 21619 US-160. Superior Alarms en route, called for backup.” My ears perk up the moment I hear the address.

  With just a “later” to me, Keith calls out to one of his officers and tells him to follow. I’m right behind them, keeping six and careful not to get in their way, but right fucking behind them.

  As luck would have it, I notice a car, a wagon, pulling into the parking lot from the other side. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it is. I’m out of the car and walking straight toward the Subaru, never losing sight of the woman behind the wheel.

  “The fuck are you doing here?” I bite off as I wrench open her door and lean in. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m fucking cranky. Seeing this woman potentially put herself in harm’s way, in the middle of the goddamn night, pisses me off to no end. Still, I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, and I see the flash of fear in her eyes. Smooth, Gomez—real smooth.

  “It’s my store,” she snaps back, no longer fearful but now obviously angry. “Maybe I should ask what the fuck you’re doing here.” She throws my words right back at me. The fire in her eyes such a damn turn on, it makes me lose my focus. Again. As if scripted, her teeth start gnawing on her bottom lip, a now familiar sign she’s not quite as feisty as her words.

  Against better judgment, I reach out my hand and with the pad of my thumb, I pull the plump lip free from her teeth. The moment I withdraw my hand, her tongue sweeps out to trace where my thumb just was. Fuck me. Now I just want to kiss the damn woman.

  “Gypsy,” I say softly, watching as her eyes widen at the name. “I was out on a call with these guys when it came through on the radio. I’m just keeping their six, and yours.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Means I’m keeping an eye out for them. And for you,” I add.

  “Right,” she says, turning her face away to stare at the building through her windshield. “Because of the case.” No. Not because of the case, but I’m not about to get into that with Keith walking with long strides in this direction.

  “Ms. Emerson?”

  “That’s me,” Kerry says. I step to the side so she can get out of the car. Only now do I notice she’s wearing some kind of shirt with paw prints, a pair of sweats, and flip-flops on her feet. Her hair is all tangled around her head, and I’m pretty damn sure she’s not wearing a fucking bra. Her nipples are poking through the material in the cool night air. Immediately my eyes shoot to Keith, who seems to be enjoying the view, and I can’t hold back the growl. The bastard smirks when he drags his gaze to me. Way too damn slow for my liking. He hears me. He fucking knows.

  Kerry looks between us a bit confused by the silent communication and the now thick tension. It takes everything not to wrap my arm around the woman and shield her. Or claim her. “I’m sorry?” she says.

  “Yes. Ms. Emerson, I’m Detective Keith Blackfoot with the Durango PD. I’d appreciate it if you would come with me for a minute. Looks like someone disabled your exterior alarm and forced entry at the back door. Luckily you have the secondary motion alarm on a different circuit. It only went off once he was inside. He must’ve noticed the red light blinking, because whoever was there, was gone by the time the security company got here.”

  “Was anything taken?” Kerry asks, worry creasing her face. “I mean I have insurance, I probably should call them.” She immediately starts rummaging through her purse, presumably in search of her phone. I put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  “First let’s have a look, shall we?” I tell her calmly. She looks up at me, and for a moment, her eyes are unguarded. She’s scared. Then she nods.

  “Okay,” she says. “Let’s have a look.” She immediately starts following Keith to the store. I fall in step beside her and put my hand on the small of her back. I tell myself it’s for moral support, but really I just want a chance to touch.

  KERRY

  “What is it?” Damian asks, leaning against the doorway of my small office.

  “My computer...” I mutter, frantically looking around the mess that was left behind by whomever was in here, trying hard not to touch anything as instructed.

  “Desktop?”

  “Yeah. I have a laptop at home, but I just use it for personal stuff. I had this one set up for the business,” I dejectedly tell him.

  “Fuck.” He says it under his breath, but I hear him anyway. My computer with the entire business administration has disappeared. Panic crawls up my throat. I can’t wrap my head around the fact I have no idea how I’m supposed to run my store, and especially my web store, without it. I’m scouring my brain to try and remember the last time I did a Dropbox backup. Too fucking long, that’s for damn sure.

  I haven’t eve
n gone into the store yet, too afraid to, but now I want to see. I need to know.

  I try to move past Damian, but he puts his hands on my shoulders to hold me back. “Where are you going?”

  “Store—I have to see the store.” I twist myself from his hold and storm past him, only to find the police officer, Keith something, from earlier, blocking my way.

  “Ms. Emerson, you can go in, but please remember not to touch anything,” he reminds me. I simply nod as I step around him as well.

  The store looks the same as I left it earlier. Untouched. That is until I feel glass crunch under my feet and turn to find the locked display smashed. The shelves are empty. My carefully collected treasures are gone.

  I must be in shock, because I don’t even resist when Damian puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me to the couch. “Sit down before you fall,” he growls, pulling a fistful of tissues from the box I always have on the coffee table. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying, but here I am, tears streaming down my face and Mr. FBI wiping at my cheeks. “Need some water?” he asks gruffly.

  I shake my head. I feel like an idiot, breaking down in front of a bunch of cops and this man, but dammit, this store represents my independence. It’s my life. It’s what held me together during my miserable marriage and what has kept me sane since my divorce.

  “Need anything more from her?” Damian directs to someone behind me. “Good, then I’m taking her home.” My head snaps up.

  “You don’t need to take me home,” I protest. “I’m quite capable of driving myself.”

  Damian squints his eyes and is about to say something when the detective beats him to it. “Ma’am, I’d advise against driving in this condition.” His slightly condescending tone instantly dries my tears and has me straighten up in my seat.

  “And what condition would that be, Detective Blackfoot? The fact that I’m upset about the break-in or the fact I don’t pee standing up? I’m curious to know.” If not for Damian’s restraining hand on my leg, I would’ve stood up to my full height, all five foot six of me, to give my words more emphasis. As it is, I’m still sitting, and the detective is crouching down beside the couch so his eyes are level with mine.