by Nashoda Rose
The job was for interviewing hockey players in the NHL, and it meant she was going to travel with them, too, so she could get the scoop at their away games, as well.
“You have to tell my dad,” I said.
She nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you first.”
“Do Ally and Charlotte know yet?” Charlotte was Kendra’s sister who lived outside of the city. She’s sweet and cute, but that sweet and cute evaporates when it comes to defending abused animals, which had landed her in handcuffs numerous times when she was younger. Not so much since she had her beautiful little girl, Maddie, who was now five. The father wasn’t in the picture, and she had yet to share who the father was. She had an animal sanctuary that sat on twenty acres and was why she rarely had time to meet up with us. But next month, the three of us were spending the weekend there.
“I’ll tell her later. She’s knee deep in manure at this time of day.”
We sat on my porch swing and I curled my legs underneath me as I ate my donut, white powder speckling my top.
We chatted for another ten minutes and I was going to tell her about Deaglan, but we were talking about her job and I didn’t want to take away from that.
So, I didn’t.
And it may have been a mistake when the silver Audi with tinted windows drove up and parked on the street where it distinctly said no parking.
Of course, I knew the car. I’d ridden in it twice now and knew who was in the car. How did he find out I owned this house? I hadn’t told him about it, but I shouldn’t be surprised, since he’d found out everything else about me.
Deaglan slid out of his car. His head turned in our direction as he peered over at us.
Oh boy.
How do you tell your friend in five seconds about Deaglan Kane? You do it fast and to the point.
“We had sex. When I left his place, I was mugged. He thinks it wasn’t a mugging and has something to do with the not-so-nice people he deals with. So he had someone install an alarm system in my rental house. We are not a thing. And neither of us wants to be a thing.”
Kendra stared open-mouthed at me, then at Deaglan, then back at me, then back at Deaglan, who walked across the front lawn with his usual, mouth-watering swagger, wearing jeans and a grey tee.
“Not sure where to go with all that,” Kendra murmured. “A little speechless here, Eva.”
And Kendra was rarely speechless.
“Yeah, I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to take away from your big news.”
She frowned. “You having a one-night stand is big news. You getting mugged is vital news, Eva. Were you hurt? He didn’t—”
I cut her off. “No. Just a few bruises.”
Deaglan’s boots thumped up the three front steps. And despite the overhang on the porch shadowing us, he kept his mirrored, gold-rimmed sunglasses on. That wasn’t to my benefit because I couldn’t tell his mood from his expression.
Kendra stood. “Hi. I’m Kendra.” She offered her hand and he shook it.
“Deaglan.” He shifted his attention to me. “Your house.”
Definitely not a question. “Yeah. But I don’t live here.” Of course, he knew that. “I will, though. Soon-ish. I hope to open a women’s center here.”
There was hammering. Shit, my dad was inside. I didn’t want him seeing Deaglan and asking questions.
Dad was protective of me after what happened with Curran, and I had a feeling Deaglan wouldn’t be received very well with his badass-ness, tattoos, and take-no-shit attitude.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“No,” I said, standing, so I could attempt to usher him off my front porch and back into his car.
Kendra coughed to hide her choked laugh. “I have to run. I need to get uptown before traffic.” She touched my forearm. “Call me later.” She turned to Deaglan. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” he replied.
“Thanks for the coffee and donuts,” I called after her. She waved as she hopped in her car.
Deaglan leaned his shoulder against the pillar.
I shifted a few feet away from him. “I never paid your friend for the alarm installation? Should I pay you?”
The corner of his mouth drew up. “No.”
“Is there a company I pay?”
“No.”
Hmmm. I chewed my lower lip and his eyes flicked to my mouth. Shit. “I’m not going to ask how you found out I own this place. I’m getting that you are pretty good at finding out whatever you want. But if you’re not here for the money, then why are you here?”
He pushed off the pillar and stalked toward me. I had nowhere to run as the back of my knees hit the seat of the swing.
Deaglan Kane was intense and sexy. Both of which set my body on fire, especially since I knew exactly what it was like being naked beneath this man.
I knew the sound of his groans right before he came.
The sound of his raspy voice saying my name when he did come.
The hard thrust of his hips as his hair fell in front of his eyes and fingers dug into my hip.
I swallowed as he halted inches away.
“My dad’s inside,” I blurted, hoping it would deter him from standing so close. It didn’t.
“Good. I don’t like you being alone here.”
Oh. The armor cracked and I sagged a bit. “Did you find the guy? Is that why you’re here?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
His jaw clenched. “You want to explain to me why you never mentioned having an ex-boyfriend named Curran Carrick who spent time in jail for assault, Eva.”
Oh, shit.
The answer was no. I didn’t want to explain Curran Carrick, and luckily, I didn’t have to when my dad came outside.
The screen door bounced closed behind him.
Deaglan didn’t step away from me. He also didn’t flinch or look at all uncomfortable with the fact that he was about to meet my dad.
But then why should he? We weren’t a thing and never intended to be. But it left me in the awkward position of explaining him to my dad. And no matter how old I was, telling him I had a one-night stand wasn’t an option.
“Dad, hey.” Good start. “This is Deaglan Kane. Deaglan, my dad, Doug Tatum.”
Deaglan nodded and they shook hands.
“Irish name,” my dad said.
“Yeah, I grew up in Dublin,” Deaglan replied.
Dad’s brows lifted. “Play any rugby?”
“Yeah.”
Oh, no. Dad loved rugby. Said it was real man’s football. I said it was an organized demolition derby without the cars. Those guys were fearless and it totally fit that Deaglan played rugby. “Until I was seventeen. Thought about going on, but things didn’t align.”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Thought I’d play hockey, ended up on an oil rig.” Dad had been an incredible hockey player. My mom met him at one of his games. They were seventeen. When she got pregnant with me, he gave up the idea of making it big playing hockey. He now played hockey with a bunch of guys every Saturday night at a local ice rink.
“How do you know my Eva?”
I jumped in. “He had an alarm installed in my place. The rental place. Not this house.” I nervously laughed. “Of course, you know not this house. His friend did it, actually, but Deaglan organized it. So, it’s done. And in. And working.”
And I was babbling.
Dad looked from me to Deaglan. “She’s jabbering. So she’s either nervous or drunk.”
I dropped my chin. Oh God.
Dad continued. “I’ve never been comfortable with her living in that place, but Eva can be stubborn. I was hoping to get this house finished so she could move in sooner rather than later. Turns out there’s more work to be done than building a damn house.”
I held my breath waiting for Deaglan’s response and praying he didn’t mention the mugging. I hadn’t told my dad and had no intention to because that would lead the question of what was I doing
in an alley at six in the morning.
“Care to come in for a beer?” my dad asked. I gaped. “They’re in a cooler and not ice-cold anymore, but cold enough on a hot day. No fridge yet. Eva can’t make up her mind on which one.” He shook his head with a grin. “She has at least twenty, shiny-ass fridge brochures, all with yellow Post-it notes with each of their pros and cons. They all look the same to me. I say go with the one that works when you plug it in.”
Deaglan chuckled.
I inhaled a deep breath and considered putting my head in the garbage can. “Dad, it takes time, and I’ve been busy.”
His brows lifted. “It’s been six months, sweetie. You need to make a decision.”
“I’m waiting for a sale.” Which was true; however, he was right about the brochures and the sticky notes. I’d read a million reviews and buyers’ reports, and whenever I thought I knew which fridge to buy, I read something else and changed my mind. It was just a fridge, but it was the biggest appliance in the kitchen.
“You wait too long, the sale price will be the regular price,” my dad said.
I rolled my eyes.
“We’ll go pick out a fridge,” Deaglan said, and headed down the steps. “Be back in an hour and I’ll take you up on that beer, Doug.”
I jolted. Huh? Deaglan wanted to help pick out a fridge for my house? Right now?
My dad laughed. “Might be longer than an hour with Eva. But the beer will be waitin’.”
“Don’t you have to work or something,” I said to Deaglan.
“No,” he replied, standing on the pathway waiting for me. “Did that.”
I know what the “did that” referred to. He found out about Curran, although I wasn’t sure how yet or if he knew what Curran’s assault charge had been from.
“I can’t just go pick out a fridge,” I stammered. “I don’t have the brochures or any of my notes.” They were in my kitchen drawer at the other house.
“Sweetie, go with your friend if you’d like. I’ll finish up sanding the bannister,” he said, opening the screen door.
Crap.
It looked like I was going fridge shopping.
“And this one has the ice maker on the inside with the freezer on the bottom,” the salesman said as he opened the drawer.
Deaglan had yet to mention Curran again, but it was only a matter of time before he did, so I was on edge and couldn’t concentrate on the fridge-making decision. It didn’t help that Deaglan’s hand rested on the small of my back as we followed the salesman up and down the aisles, looking at different models and makes.
Why was he suddenly so quiet? When we walked into the appliance store, Deaglan found a salesman, asked him to show us every fridge they had. The salesman’s eyes bulged with the prospect of a sale and he quickly directed us to the back of the store.
Did he have to stand so close? Every inhale contained Deaglan’s scent, and my body reacted with quivers each time. I was so heated by the time we reached the tenth fridge that I considered climbing inside, and I would’ve if they would have been plugged in.
“And that’s the last one,” the salesman said, his round face a little flushed after spending the last hour giving the spiel on each one. “Any particular one you like?”
“Give us a few minutes,” Deaglan said. The first thing he’d said since asking the salesman to show us the fridges.
“Of course. Of course.” He wandered away.
I placed the pile of new brochures on top of one of the washing machines behind me and spread them out to flip through them.
“Eva,” Deaglan said, the pressure of his hand on the small of my back increasing. “Pick a fridge.”
“I’m looking,” I replied.
“You’re looking at advertising. They all get cold when plugged in. Which one do you like?”
I shook my head, sifting through the glossy images. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to decide. I like the features of this one.” I pointed to a brochure. “But the drawer on the bottom is cool on that one.” I pointed to another. “But this digital display is neat. And this has a great review so—”
“That’s it,” Deaglan said.
My head snapped around to look at him, but it was too late to consider possible escape routes as he flipped me around so my butt was against the washer and his arms landed on either side of me.
“What’s going on?” he said in a low voice.
“What do you mean?”
“This isn’t about a fuckin’ fridge. What’s going on?”
I swallowed and licked my lips. “We’re looking at fridges. Of course, it’s about fridges, and I can’t decide. It’s a huge purchase.”
“A house is a huge purchase. This is not.” His tone lowered. “Why aren’t you making a decision, Eva?”
“There are too many fridges and…” My voice trailed off when he scowled. “I don’t want to pick the wrong one.”
“You don’t like it, you return it.” His voice softened, but he pushed. “What’s going on?”
I shrugged. “You use a fridge a hundred times a day and….” I clamped my mouth shut when his scowl intensified. God, he was stubborn.
“Fine. I’m scared. Okay? I don’t know what I’m doing. I know nothing about renovating a house or opening a women’s center. I’m a nurse. Not a social worker. What if I hire the wrong people? Or if a woman gets beaten or killed by her husband or boyfriend because someone at my center gave her the wrong advice? What if I can’t get her the help she needs? Or I say the wrong thing.”
His brows lifted as if he was surprised by something. “A place for abused women?”
I nodded.
His head dipped and his hand slid up my back to my neck where his fingers curled. He was quiet a minute before he raised his head and met my eyes. “You’re giving women a place to find their voice. A place where they don’t feel alone. That’s what matters, Eva.”
Tears pooled in my eyes. Goddamn tears over a stupid fridge. But we both knew this had nothing to do with a fridge.
Deaglan didn’t know why this was so important to me. Why this really mattered. Why this scared the hell out of me, and yet somehow I needed to do this for other women as much as for myself.
And yeah, I was afraid of the tight little ball in the back of my head unraveling. Of talking about my own experience, but how could I ask them to if I couldn’t?
“What if they go back, Deaglan? What if they go back and I can’t help them?” I said.
“You can’t stop people from making their own choices. Whether it’s the right ones or not.” His finger twitched at the back of my neck, sending a swarm of goosebumps down my spine. “Sometimes people need to take the wrong path in order to lead them to the right one.”
There’s something in his voice that made me wonder if he’d been on that path. Had he once took the wrong path? Did he make the wrong choice?
He sighed when I remained silent. “Eva, no matter what happens, it sure as hell won’t be over a fridge.”
He was right. Of course, he was right. I was procrastinating because I was scared.
He shoved away from me. “Pick a fridge, baby.”
I scanned the row of fridges and pointed to the one I’d seen six months ago and liked because it had the freezer on the bottom, a water and ice dispenser, and a cool digital display. “That one.”
Deaglan nodded to the salesman hovering fifty-feet away and he hurried over. Deaglan told him which fridge.
“Do you need an oven?” Deaglan asked.
I nodded.
“Okay.” He turned to the salesman. “She needs an oven, too.”
“Are you going to ask me about Curran?”
We were in the car and almost at my house after buying a fridge and an oven. Deaglan had yet to mention Curran again.
He glanced over at me. He was wearing his sunglasses and I couldn’t see his eyes. There was no question he could pull off gold-rimmed, aviator sunglasses especially considering his sexiness meter was off the charts.
>
“Yes, but I’m giving you time.”
I frowned. “For what?”
“To process.”
“Process what?”
“You’ve been delaying shit on the house for months. Now that is over and you’re going to get shit done. You need time to process that.”
“So, we’re not going to talk about Curran?” I asked, hopeful.
He snorted. “Yeah, babe. We’re talking about him. And just so you can process this, too, know that I’m pissed you failed to mention him. But first I’ll have a beer with your dad, then we’ll talk.”
I stayed silent. He obviously didn’t know the person Curran assaulted had been me; otherwise, he’d have said that.
I considered telling him I was busy later and couldn’t talk, but then I’d have the impending conversation looming over me. Tomorrow I had a twelve-hour shift at the hospital and needed a clear head, which meant sleeping tonight. But he was right to be angry. I should’ve mentioned Curran. I didn’t, and now I had to explain him.
“You have a name for this women’s center?” he asked.
I laughed. “Deaglan, I couldn’t pick out a fridge. Picking out a name pretty much solidifies it’s happening.”
There was an upward tug at the corner of his mouth. “It’s happening, Eva.”
I smiled. “Yeah.” It was. And instead of feeling more stress, some of the weight had lifted. I was doing this. I was going to help other women.
There was silence for a minute before I said, “Vic isn’t very cheerful, is he?”
He laughed, and we chatted about Vic, which didn’t take long because apparently Vic is super private and has no family except his brothers in the military with him. He worked for VUR, Vault’s Unyielding Riot, which was owned by Deck, with Kai and Connor as partners.
Deck, Vic, Tyler, and Connor had been in the Special Forces and Kai had “other experience,” which Connor had been involved with, too, at one point. When I asked what that meant, he said it was better I didn’t know.
“And you work for them, too?”
“No. I work for myself, but I help them out, and they do in return. Owe a lifetime marker to Deck.”