by Ann Grech
“Nice of you to ask,” Claire muttered.
“I didn’t realize Timmy was serious. He only mentioned it in passing today at work.” Seeing Claire’s resigned shrug, Chloe thanked her lucky stars that Claire wasn’t going to push the issue. She sat down next to her and Mohawk immediately sidled over and rested his massive head on Chloe’s knees, sniffing her and absorbing her scent. Mo stayed next to her all night, never leaving her side, even when she went to bed.
Chloe and Mohawk walked into the studio the next day a few minutes before opening, greeting Dakota who cleaned the large mirror on the wall. Unsurprisingly, no clients had arrived yet, but according to the schedule open on Dakota’s screen, Timmy’s first appointment would be there shortly. Chloe wanted to observe him place the stencil and do the intricate line work on the Ancient Egyptian-styled half-sleeve he would be working on. She rushed into the kitchen to put her purse in the lockable cupboard she shared with Dakota.
“Hey, Timmy.”
“Hi,” he mumbled at Chloe as he dumped a few sugars into his black coffee and hurried out of the kitchen. She watched as he got as far as the door before turning and looking at her. The flash of heat in his eyes was gone before Chloe could react, the only hint that it had been there was the visible clenching of Timmy’s jaw. But Chloe saw it. Spinning around, he stalked out of the room across to the main part of the studio. Last night, he’d kissed her. She hadn’t seen him when he dropped off Mohawk; had something changed since then? His kiss had her daydreaming wild things about the man who had scorched her with the barest brush of his lips against hers. She felt the restraint he was using when he’d pulled her to him. His muscles were tight, vibrating against her as she tried to pull him closer. She’d felt protected in his arms, but it was more than that. Her body hummed with recognition when he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.
Her lady parts may be untouched by any boy or man, but she felt them sing out in praise from that chaste kiss. His ripped chest was warm under her fingertips when she’d pushed him away. It took all her resolve not to climb onto him like a monkey, wrap her arms around his impossibly broad shoulders and her legs around his waist, dig the flat heels of her Doc Martens into his ass and rub herself against him. Last night, she’d had no doubt that he’d catch her if she threw herself at him, but she’d been terrified by that crunch of gravel a few yards away from them. She hoped it was nothing; that Timmy had been able to talk to Blade and get him to back off. Timmy looked to be in one piece this morning. Surely that was a good sign, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she’d spoken to him. And it didn’t look like he was interested.
Timmy’s annoyance with Chloe was obvious every time he scowled at her. The exasperated huff he let out when she dared ask a question was enough to make her shut up and step back from him. With every opportunity that had presented itself, he’d snapped at her, and most of his answers to her questions were grunts. It didn’t take a genius to get the message that he didn’t want her around so she wandered off to do the more menial tasks around the studio that she was now responsible for.
That morning she also met Justin, or Jussy, as everyone called him. The tattooist and piercer seemed happy enough to let her watch him. She didn’t think he was as good an artist as Rake or Timmy, but it was safer hanging over Jussy’s shoulder. Timmy was only a few feet away, but some space between them was better than none.
Chloe was handing Jussy the squirt bottle with the diluted green soap and a few squares of paper towel as he cleaned up the tattoo that he’d just finished off, when Timmy barked out from across the room. “What the fuck, Chloe? I told you to rip off these paper towels from the roll. Where the hell are they?”
Chloe snapped. She’d had a shitty night last night, first going through the funeral arrangements with Pastor Brennan, then struggling to get to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the same recurring nightmare came forth. Chloe gave up trying to sleep at three in the morning and crawled into Claire’s bed, only to find Cleo already in there. Now Mr. Stick up his Ass was yelling at her as if she was incapable of tearing a bunch of towels off a roll. He’d done the same thing yesterday; carrying on like a sullen five-year-old, until he’d wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. His bad mood made her head hurt and she was in no mood for it. If the six cups of coffee, enough pain pills to down an elephant and everyone tiptoeing around didn’t help him, nothing was going to. Chloe didn’t care what the reason for the painkillers was: a headache? A hangover? A sore neck? Whatever it was, the grumpy ass attitude had to stop. She was torn between the urge to massage his neck and shoulders and the bone-deep desire to hit him. Chloe took a deep breath to settle herself, but another sneer from Timmy snapped the last thread of politeness left in her.
“Open your eyes, boss, and you’ll find them.” Stomping across the studio, she opened the drawer he’d asked her to store them in and roughly thrust a sheaf of the torn apart towels in his hands. “Here.” Her attempt at glaring at him died a premature death when she caught Timmy trying to subtly adjust his package after her rant. There was one hell of a tell-tale bulge there. Men. Impossibly gorgeous, impossible men.
“Cut the attitude, Chloe.”
“My attitude? You’re an ass, Timmy.”
Standing up so he loomed over her, Chloe saw the anger glittering in his eyes. But there was something else too, just like before. Something more. “Watch what you say to me, little girl. You’re likely to get a spanking if you don’t watch your tone.”
Heat raced over Chloe hard and fast at Timmy’s words, and she was sure he saw the flash of desire in her eyes as her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Her sass chose that moment to escape her, her reply coming out a little breathless. “You wouldn’t dare. Would you?” He didn’t answer her, he just smiled. But it wasn’t smug or humorous. It was full of promise, like he was daring her to find out.
Rake chose that minute to wander into the studio. He was taking the afternoon and evening shift. Saved!
“Rake, can I have a minute?” Chloe asked, motioning to the drawing room at the back of the studio and quickly moving out of Timmy’s immediate reach. Mohawk lifted his head from his comfy cushion as she walked in and petted his head.
“What’s up, sweetheart?”
“I know you’ve got me scheduled to work on Saturday morning, but Momma and Daddy’s funeral will be held then. Can I swap my day to Sunday?”
“No, don’t do that. Take the weekend off and Monday if you need it too. Do you need Friday off too to get anything ready?”
“I…uh. I need the money. Is there a problem if I swap days rather than take them off?”
“Chloe, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna dock your pay for taking a few days off to go to your parents’ funeral.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her again. She was holding onto her sanity by the skin of her teeth, hysteria a distinct possibility, especially after her run in with Timmy. She bit her lip trying to push her hurt, anger, sorrow and panic at their predicament back under the rug she’d swept it, but it wasn’t working. She started shaking uncontrollably and when Rake pulled her into a brotherly hug, she couldn’t hold on any longer. She struck out and screamed at the injustice of losing the two people who had always been there for Chloe and her sisters; at the pain of not getting to say a proper goodbye; at the memory of her father’s body riddled with bullets and burned beyond recognition being covered up by the firefighter who braved the deadly explosion to try to rescue him.
“What’s happened?” Timmy yelled as he barged through the drawing room door, almost colliding with Mohawk, who paced around Chloe and Rake, whimpering.
“Funeral is Saturday. Chloe’s taking a few days off to be with her sisters. Give us a few minutes, okay.”
“No. She needs me.” Timmy grasped Rake’s arm and tried to tug him away. “Chloe…”
“Timmy, stop. I’ve got her.”
After long moments of si
lence, Timmy uttered, “Yeah, okay.” He stepped back out of the doorway and let the privacy screen swing closed.
Rake kept hold of Chloe as she thrashed in his arms, screaming with the pain she was suffering until she had nothing left. Slumping against him, Chloe would have fallen had it not been for Rake’s quick reflexes and the strength in his wiry muscles as he lifted her without hesitation. She was grateful for her new boss’s understanding and his friendship. He’d called her up last night to check in. When she told him that she hadn’t eaten dinner, he insisted on bringing a meal over to her and her sisters the following night. He was a gruff, tattooed, mean-ass looking man, but below the surface he was a sweetheart, a teddy bear. Now, after calling out for Timmy to set up the privacy screen around his tattoo chair, Rake was carrying Chloe through the studio to sit with her. Dakota had a steaming cup of sweet tea in Chloe’s shaking hands before she even realized what was happening. Timmy hovered over her, a silent sentinel protecting her in the only way he could. Jussy gave her some privacy, turning the studio’s sign to Closed so they wouldn’t get any walk-ins. Now, sitting curled against Rake and being coached to breathe evenly again by Dakota, while Timmy stood guard, Chloe knew she had the strength to build herself back up. She still hadn’t cried for her parents but she was grieving for them in her own way. The counsellor she’d met at the hospital said that there were different stages of grief she’d go through. It was important to take things one step at a time and rely on the help that was offered. She felt blessed to have the support of these new friends.
“Go on home, sweetheart. We have things under control here. We aren’t that busy with three of us here today, plus Dakota’s keeping us in line. I’ll bring some dinner over in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Rake,” Chloe murmured.
“I’ll drive you,” Jussy offered. “I’m going on lunch now.”
“Okay, thank you.”
* * * *
“You’re home early, how come?” Cleo asked as she kicked the door shut after her day at Rock Springs Elementary. Chloe held her index finger to her lips as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear and petted Mohawk with her other hand. She was listening to Sheriff Peterson explain that the autopsies didn’t turn up anything unexpected, but he did want to discuss the cause of the explosion with them. Apparently, the preliminary report by the fire marshal had turned up something concerning. Sheriff Peterson was going to head over after Claire finished her shift.
Chloe relayed the conversation to Cleo and dialed Rake, cancelling their dinner. There was no way Chloe would feel like eating anything after the sheriff told them, no matter what the cause of the fire. Chloe’s stomach was already churning in nervous dread. The last thing she wanted was to offend Rake by not eating the food he wanted to bring over.
“You didn’t tell me why you’re home early. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was upset after I organized the day off for Momma and Daddy’s funeral. Rake said I could have the rest of the day off.”
“I think your boss likes you,” Cleo smiled. “What’s he like? Is he cute?”
“He’s good looking, but not my type,” she replied, shaking her head. “His smile is nice and his tats are hot. He’s such a great guy, but he reminds me a bit of Daddy. He’s intimidating on the outside, but underneath he’s a softie.”
“What are the others like, who you work with?”
“You met Timmy, my other boss.”
“Not really. He was only here for five minutes. He said he didn’t want to impose, but I don’t think he wanted to stick around when Claire started to interrogate him. Once he told us that Mo was staying here, he said more to the dog than to us.”
“Timmy’s well… Timmy. He’s broody, impatient, annoying, such a talented artist, sexier than sin and God, he’s the best kisser ever.” Chloe sighed. Seeing the smirk on her sister’s face, she hurriedly continued, “Dakota’s great. I think we’ll be good friends. She’s smart and funny, and really quirky. She has the guys grumbling about her most of the time because she runs the place with an iron fist, but they love her. Jussy seems nice too, I suppose. He’s pretty quiet. I only met him today, so I haven’t had the chance to talk much to him. Rake sent me home after only a few hours.”
Cleo smirked at Chloe. “Sexy I can understand. He was hot. But best kisser ever? Spill. I want details girl.”
“Oh, yeah.” Chloe nodded, her eyes glazing over as her body remembered the heat that washed over her from the hottest kiss that she’d ever had. “It was…wow. What about you? You’ve been talking to Fireman Nunez quite a bit.” Chloe smiled, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Zane’s just a friend. Do you remember him from school?”
“Yeah, he was crushing on you back then too, but he was a complete dork. Now he’s smokin’. Speaking of, when Sheriff Peterson comes over tonight do you think Zane could be here too? The sheriff makes me nervous.”
“Sure, I’ll call him. Why don’t you get a hold of Timmy? He was there, maybe he’d be good moral support. It’s a good excuse for you to spend more time with him too.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea especially if Claire was asking him a lot of questions. They’d probably clash. Timmy and I clash. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“You need someone there for you too, Chloe. Someone apart from us. We’re all hurting so much that we’ll wallow in it if we don’t have someone to pull us out. Someone who can hold you and make you feel good. If you like Timmy, call him. We’re only going to talk. Claire will be too busy mooning over Sheriff Peterson to notice Timmy.”
“I will not,” Claire said as she walked through the door. “Who’s Timmy?”
“Chloe’s other boss, the one who dropped off Mo. He witnessed the fire. And he kissed her,” Cleo teased.
“Cleo,” Chloe scolded. The last thing she wanted was her overbearing big sister knowing the details of the first kiss she’d shared with Timmy.
“He kissed you?”
“It was a peck goodnight when he walked me to my car after work yesterday. Relax, I’m still a virgin.”
“Urgh, we really need to do something about that,” Cleo commented dryly.
“No, you don’t. Chloe’s going to stay a virgin for as long as possible.”
“Yes, Mom,” Chloe grated out before she could stop herself. As soon as she did, she regretted the comment. She knew that Claire was doing what she thought was right and without their parents, Claire had stepped up and become the responsible one for the three of them, providing them with a home and some semblance of normalcy when they’d needed it most.
“Chloe, call Timmy. He might be able to add something if he hears what Colin has to say,” Claire replied, the hurt in her voice evident as she turned and put the kettle on the stovetop. Colin? Claire’s on a first name basis with the sheriff? Huh?
Picking up her cell from its spot on the coffee table, Chloe wandered up the short hallway toward her room. She pulled the blinds back and looked out the window at the street. Chills raced up her spine when she had the uncanny sense that she was being watched. Preyed upon. Chloe scanned the street as far as she could see from the angle of her bedroom window but didn’t pick anything out of the ordinary. Then there was a flash, a glint of chrome hitting sunlight. Chloe zeroed in on the spot but couldn’t see anything else. Timmy had made her paranoid. Surely Blade wasn’t even a real threat. Was he? Shaking off the feeling, Chloe closed the blinds and sat down on the bed.
She’d plugged everyone’s contact details into her cell on her first day of work. She didn’t expect that having Timmy’s number would come in handy so quickly.
He answered her call on the second ring.
“Timmy, hi. It’s Chloe from work.”
“I know who you are, pretty girl. You okay? You sound…different.”
“Sheriff Peterson is coming over shortly to talk about the cause of the explosion. Our friend who’s a fireman is coming over too to explain the fire marshal’s draft re
port if we don’t understand what Sheriff Peterson is telling us. Could you maybe come over too? Claire thought you might remember something to help with the investigation if you were there.”
Timmy sucked in a breath, his voice became huskier, making him rasp his next question in his deep baritone voice. “Do you want me there, Chloe?”
Chloe closed her eyes and let Timmy’s voice wash over her, warming her in untouched places and others left stone cold with the death of her parents. Her nipples puckered and need pulsed in the most intimate of areas. “Yes,” she replied breathlessly. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again, to have his calloused hands caress her skin. Timmy cursed under his breath and cleared his throat.
“I’ll be there in thirty.”
Chloe barely had enough time to freshen up and run a brush through her hair before the first knock on the door sounded. Chloe’s heart leapt into her throat, beating faster with the anticipation of seeing Timmy again. She’d been nervous calling him. After their spat earlier in the day, she hadn’t known what to expect. But, he’d surprised her again, immediately agreeing to come over. When Zane yelled out that it was only him, Chloe laughed at her disappointment. Desperate much.
She walked into the den to find Cleo perched on the sofa as Zane was pulling up one of chairs from the kitchen table. “Coffee?” Chloe called out as she walked past.
A chorus of “No thanks,” had her pausing. She didn’t really want one either; she just needed to do something with her hands.
“When are you scheduled to work again, Zane?” Chloe asked as she sat down on the other armchair near them.
“Not until tomorrow afternoon. This is my weekend.”
Their conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door, this time answered by Claire as she walked out of her room toward them. Sheriff Peterson didn’t even wait for her to invite him in before he stepped over the threshold and cupped her face. “Hi Claire, how are you holding up, baby?” he asked. Baby? What the hell?