I Knocked Him Out (Love at First Crime Book 2)

by Jessica Frances

  “This is my friend, Sasha,” Declan introduces, squeezing my hand when there is a moment of silence after his announcement.

  “Maude’s Sasha?” Amara finally asks, her eyes perking up a little. I’m immediately touched that Maude spoke about me enough to be classified as hers.

  “The one and the same. You girls mind taking care of Sash for the night?”

  They both roll their eyes at him calling them girls, but while J nods, her eyes back on the marker in front of her as she attempts to get the lid off, Amara pats the seat next to her.

  Before I take a step toward it, though, Declan pulls at my hand and leans into me so his lips are right next to my ear where he speaks quietly. “They’re sweet, nice, and completely nuts. Take what they say with a grain of salt. They have their own world they live in, and while some of it is in the now, some of it is in the past, and some of it is complete bullshit. Grandma loved them, and she always laughed when she was with them.”

  I take his warning in, immediately feeling warmth toward these women who made Maude happy.

  He gives me a quick peck on the cheek, which gets both ladies teasing and jeering, before he gives them the same treatment then leaves to help someone get to their seat, taking the bingo pages I hadn’t finished handing out with him.

  “Come on, girl; you can stare at that man’s ass anytime. We don’t got long to judge you,” Amara snaps at me.

  I quickly make my way around the table to sit next to her.

  “So, he give you the business yet?” she asks me like she’s asking about the weather.

  I get the feeling I’m being tested. I doubt it’s all that important to Declan that I pass since he’s already far too into me to back out now, but I still want these ladies to like me. They liked Maude, and they obviously still like Declan, so I want to be part of that club, too.

  “We work at the same business, so I get business from him all the time,” I answer.

  Her eyes narrow on me and my non-answer, yet her lips twitch in the corners.

  “Your name don’t start with an A. That’s good,” J finally speaks up, her gaze still intent on that marker lid. I wonder if I should help her with it, but Amara distracts me with her next comment.

  “J thinks there are too many A names around.”

  “There are twelve people with A names just in this place! Or, was that fourteen …?” She trails off as her attention moves back to the marker.

  “There is actually twenty-three,” Amara whispers to me. “But we keep that from her; otherwise, she might be proven right.”

  “You know anyone with an A name?” J asks right back.

  “Um … Well, one of my best friend’s name is Ava,” I answer, though Amara is vehemently shaking her head at me.

  “Uh-huh!” J knocks her hand against the table in triumph. When I see the marker lid is now free, I’m not sure if she’s not just happy to finally have it off.

  “You got some J names, though?” Amara asks, and I assume Declan has probably answered this question, so she must know it.

  “A friend named Joey, and Ava has a baby boy named Jensen.”

  J grunts, clearly unimpressed, but Amara looks smug.

  “So, you guys knew Maude?” I ask, instantly wishing I hadn’t when a wave of sadness passes over them both. She may have been gone for a few years now, but she’s still very much missed.

  “She was one of us,” Amara answers, to which J nods energetically next to her. “She got us, and she was a ratings winner.”

  “A what? Ratings winner?” I wonder if I misheard, but I suddenly catch on to what Declan was saying about the bullshit part about these women.

  “For our reality TV show,” J answers like that’s actually an answer that makes sense.

  “Reality TV show?” I repeat slowly, still wondering if I can just be mishearing.

  “Keep up, girl.” Amara snaps her fingers at me. “We’re very popular. Best ratings around. You’re gonna guest star on tonight’s episode. Don’t want people to think you’re thick.”

  Declan’s words again return to me, and I decide to just go with it. Either they are messing with me, or this is just part of their thing.

  “Oh, right. How long you been on, um, TV?” I audibly swallow, scared for a second I’m being pranked. Note to self: don’t drink from the water supply here.

  “We were discovered early,” J answers matter-of-factly. “J is actually a stage name.” She informs me of this with her attention finally shifting to me. I notice her eyes are a dull blue, her chin large enough to droop with an extra chin or two, and I don’t think her false teeth are quite in right. Her eyes are narrowing, and she looks like she’s not sure about me. “Who are you again?”

  “Sasha.” I’m not sure if I should include my last name. I doubt it will mean anything to her.

  “Maude’s Sasha?” she asks, and even though we have already gone over this, I feel warm again at being called that.

  “Yep.”

  “You wrote letters. They made her happy,” she says gently.

  “I’m glad—”

  “You sleeping with her boy yet?” she cuts me off, moving from gentle to intrusive in two seconds flat. “She told us you were gonna get married, and we could have it on our show, but after teasing our viewers, we got nothing. When is that gonna happen?” Her voice now sounds far sterner than Amara’s ever did. I get the feeling my answer is going to either paint me as a winner or a loser for this woman for life.

  “Maude said Declan and I were going to get married?” I ask, doubting this is true, but deciding to give myself some time on how I should answer.

  “Yep. So, when is the date?” Amara snaps. They both seem annoyed with me now.

  I look up to search out Declan, hoping he will sense that I need a rescue, or at the very least an interruption to avoid having to answer this question. Instead of him realizing I need him, I see him chatting away with a woman, crouching down to her level in the wheelchair, and the lady is giving him a huge smile.

  Wow, could Declan be any more amazing?

  Volunteering here is special enough, but he’s so engaged with everyone. He doesn’t just come in, do his thing, and then leave. We arrived early so he could help set up, and he’s talking to everyone like this is common.

  How did I never know about this before? How have I never seen this side of him?

  “Oh yeah, that wedding is gonna be soon. Just look at that love-struck moron look stuck on her face.” Amara’s voice brings me back to the ladies. “She looks like the boy hung the moon or something.”

  “You have kids, you call them something with a J, okay?” J says, her gaze staying on me for a moment before she nods and goes back to her marker, trying to now put the lid back on.

  “And they are on our show all the time.” Amara waves her hand back in my face.

  Finally, I am saved by Declan, who is making an announcement that bingo is about to begin.

  Amara slides a sheet in front of me, and I take a marker out of the cup in the center of the table.

  J is madly trying to get her marker lid back off as I glance around at the almost full room. I’m not sure how many people live here, but I think there has to be most everyone out here for bingo.

  Nurses and caregivers wander about as Declan begins.

  “Clickety click, it’s sixty-six.”

  And so it begins.

  Amara wins twice, complaining loudly each time that there is no money or alcohol on offer for a prize. J alternatively misses half the numbers as she struggles to pull the lid off her marker or put it back on. It seems to be something she can’t stop doing, but since she doesn’t seem to mind, and as Amara put it, the prizes are pretty lame, anyway, I don’t comment or offer to help.

  An hour later, it is all over.

  Declan gives me many smiles throughout the night, yet he doesn’t rush back over to me once it’s finished. He makes his way around, chatting with people or helping them make their way back to their rooms.
And I, as Amara said earlier, watch him like some love-struck moron. I don’t care. Not even when J begins to name our future children, using the weirdest J names I have ever heard, which I later realize is just her putting the letter J in front of other names.

  I keep smiling when Amara goes back to speaking about their TV show. Then, when Declan and I help them back to their rooms, I laugh when Amara stops speaking to us midsentence, before telling us that we will have to tune into the next episode to hear the end of what she was saying.

  Declan and I then clean up the bingo stuff, and once it is all packed away, he smiles down at me. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.

  “You have fun?” he asks, still grinning and showing off his perfectly white teeth.

  “Yes. Amara and J are hilarious. Although, they told me our wedding has to be on their TV show, and J already has our many children named,” I point out, watching as zero panic crosses his expression.

  “I can just imagine their poor names,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders when we step outside and walk to his car.

  “Is her name really J?”

  “No, but I’m not sure what it actually is. Maude knew, but she told me that J changed it a while ago to advertise the letter, so she won’t answer to anything but that.”

  I laugh again, surprised when Declan suddenly leans over and kisses me deeply, halting my laugh and our walk. I moan at how good this feels and go from zero to horny within seconds.

  When he pulls back, we are both breathing a little heavily, and I know for certain I look dazed and giddy.

  “Thank you for coming tonight.” His grin is still in place, and I decide my favorite feature of him right now are the dimples he gets when he smiles hugely. At least until another part of his anatomy comes into play.

  “Are you kidding? Let’s make this a regular thing,” I burst out, and he beams at me.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 11

  The rest of the week moves by quickly. After Declan took me to a nice restaurant the night after bingo, I got to meet everyone properly for a quiz night, which made me realize how little I know about the past. Nothing was current after 1990, so I was lost as to which band had recorded the 60s hit “I’m a Believer,” or who the American track star was who won four gold medals in the 1984 Olympics. I mean, I would be hard pressed to know who won what in the Olympics, and that just aired.

  I was on Amara and J’s team, but I’m certain I won’t be the next time. Not unless I can cram in some general knowledge.

  Since Declan has the questions a couple days ahead of time, you would think he would help a girl out and point me in the right direction. But apparently, he’s too much of a wimp to do that. He said he never helped Maude with it, and if Amara or J ever found out he was helping me, then there would be hell to pay.

  I also found out that he’s been volunteering since Maude went into that nursing home because she was complaining to him about the lack of staff on hand to put on activities for everyone. Without thought to the time it would take out of his week, he set up bingo night and the quiz night, as well as helping out on other occasions. Another tick for Declan in the pro column. And after getting to start a tub of ice cream and finishing it off all to myself the other night, well, that tick got an underline or eight.

  Friday night, we had a quiet night in, with him putting on another ridiculous movie. Saturday night, we watched a basketball game while I cooked dinner. Sunday, we spent the day at the farmers market, and that night our plans were to do the traditional date. Dinner and a movie.

  However, after a pleasant enough dinner, we never actually made it inside any movie theater. Instead, we argued outside for forty-five minutes while people passed, giving us a wide berth.

  I wanted to see a romantic movie because, for the past week, the only movies I watched were action or what Declan tried to convince me was comedy. Therefore, it was definitely my turn to choose. But Declan wouldn’t budge.

  In the end, the manager had to come out and move us along, since we were apparently hurting his business.

  As soon I stomped around the corner, furious at Declan and that clown who dared to yell at us to get lost, Declan had me pinned against the building, kissing me so deeply, so hotly, so consuming that I felt it all over my body. Like every part of me woke up and got turned the hell on. That then moved us onto the next person telling us to cool it and move on. This time it was a police officer.

  By the time we arrived home, we were giddy and laughing hysterically. And that night marked the first time we slept together since the wedding. Unfortunately, we were both fully clothed. It was still better than being in separate rooms. Although being teased with Declan’s morning wood digging into me was beginning to be a new form of torture.

  I’m happy we fought that night. It proved that we aren’t just tiptoeing around each other. We aren’t just bending over to make the other happy. We are both being ourselves.

  That fight is the first one we have had since deciding to give things a try between us, and we ended it in each other’s arms. And we didn’t need sex to fix our problem. Although, an out-of-this-world kiss didn’t hurt.

  Maybe that has been a little bit of the problem all along. We can fight just fine, but making up has never been something we have excelled at. Now we not only have the motivation to get past our fights, but also a backup plan.

  I’m fairly certain, no matter how mad I am at Declan, if he gives me a kiss like he did that night, I will forget my own name, let alone whatever we are fighting over.

  And other than Jerry calling me to say my web browser history has taken a strange turn, from looking up seduction skills, to how to get away with killing a senior citizen, which I obviously have not been searching for, there has been no word from my stalker, or whatever that whole thing was.

  I’m not stupid enough to forget that something weird is going on. I know Declan is still looking into it, as well as working his own cases, but I prefer to focus on the positives.

  The only bump I foresee now is Zander.

  And this stupid stalker issue.

  Joey and Cynthia have slipped straight into us being a couple without missing a beat. It’s almost like they were both expecting it to happen, anyway, which gives me a little hope that Zander won’t have much of a problem with us being together. He’s a smart guy, so chances are, if the others figured there was something between Declan and me ages ago, then Zander will be right there with them.

  And since whatever has been happening with this stalker thing has quietened down, I don’t think it is worth worrying Cynthia about it. Joey already keeps giving me concerned looks, and I know he grills Declan each morning on whether or not there is an update.

  I don’t see the point in drudging it up with Cynthia, especially since Declan has taken away his ban on me leaving the office with her. However, the stipulations are that we stay close and keep together. Not that we have yet taken this lunch date idea up. Today will be the first time. I hate myself a little that I am sad to not be having lunch with Declan.

  When my work phone rings, I glance down at the screen, hoping it’s Declan or a client we already programed in. I have been a bit nervous to pick up a phone lately, yet I can’t ignore the work phone.

  Seeing my mother’s name pop up, I smartly choose to ignore it then wait for the inevitable message icon to pop up so I can replay the recorded message and no doubt delete it.

  Thankfully, after forgetting to program her name, I finally did. She was furious that my old number was disconnected. Unfortunately, at the time of her call, I couldn’t remember my new number, so I assured her I would send her a text with my new number as soon as I had time. Which I haven’t done, and I haven’t decided if I am going to bother.

  I should just delete her message without the hassle of hearing it, but for some reason, I can’t stop myself from listening.

  I don’t know if I’m expecting her to see me as a woman who can make her own choices, or if I’m
worried she might be calling to give me bad news, like something has happened to Dad. Or maybe a warning that they are coming down for a visit so I should plan my vacation accordingly. Nevertheless, I have to hear each and every message she leaves me.

  After glancing at the time on my monitor to see I have ten minutes before Cynthia is due to get me for lunch, I put the receiver to my ear and prepare myself to hear whatever Mom has to say.

  “Sasha, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re ignoring my calls on purpose. You know you can end this silly drama between us by returning my calls. In case you’re worried, your father put your allowance in early this month, so you don’t need to kick up such a fuss about that,” she says on a whine, as if I have even mentioned a word of distress to her over their money that I don’t even glance at. “You’ve made your point about that criminal you think you like, but it is time to grow up. I insist you call Bowen immediately, or I will be forced to take drastic measures. And for God’s sake, give me your number!”

  I tap the button hard to delete the message, and then find myself unsurprisingly fuming.

  This isn’t the first call Mom has left me, pushing me to connect with Bowen, while also being incredibly rude about Declan, and I know it won’t be the last.

  She is unrelenting when she decides she wants something, and nothing I say now will change her mind, short of Declan becoming a millionaire, since money is all Mom cares about. There is no way she will ever accept him, so there is no way she won’t keep pushing for me to find a richer man.

  I don’t think she was always like this. Dad was just a regular guy when they got married. I have to assume that this weird obsession with money has grown since they became rich themselves.

  I should feel sorry for her since money is so hollow and unfulfilling. If that’s what she cares most about in life, then her life can never be more than hollow and unfulfilling, too. However, I don’t pity her. I’m angry at her.