by Aubrey Irons
The still-beer-damp jeans remind me as I yank them on.
Right, the bar fight.
The boiling point of townies, the insanely drunk bachelorette party of out-of-towners, and the even more drunk groom that showed up to see his fiancée slow dancing to Whitesnake with Mikey Sullivan who works down on the docks.
Somehow this led to me getting punched in the face, and after that, it’s a bit of a blur.
I vaguely remember the close up of the bar, saying fuck it to cleaning up the place post-fight, and getting rip-shit drunk with Jade instead.
Jade, who’s probably still crashed upstairs in my place actually. One, because no wasted employee of mine is going to take the shitty sofa while I sleep upstairs, and two, because I’m pretty positive I couldn’t make it up the stairs last night if I fucking tried.
“Are you decent yet?”
I roll my eyes as I button my jeans. “It is my house you know.”
“It’s a bar.”
“Well it’s my bar.”
Church girl is starting to get annoying and I decide I’m not done messing with her.
“Sure you don’t want to look?”
I turn and pointedly reach out and poke her ass with a rigid finger.
She shrieks, and I start to laugh before I wince and grab my forehead.
Fucking hangover.
“Okay, fine. I’m decent.”
She turns, cautiously, her face bright red and her eyes wild as she glares daggers at me.
So this is the Evangeline Ellis I’m going to be working with over the next few months. Working with, because of course Dad roped me into working on this outreach center project he’s putting up in some of the old factory spaces over in Lynn.
Evangeline’s eyes dip to my bare chest as she fingers the cross on her neck, her cheeks getting redder before she looks pointedly at my face and sticks her open hand out.
“Key, please?”
“Sure you don’t want a peek?” I grin, nodding down at my jeans.
“Quite,” she says icily.
“Suit yourself.” I make a point of making sure my arm brushes hers as I move past her out of the office, grinning when she flinches away from me.
“Um, where are you going?”
“You want the key?”
She says nothing as she follows me down the hallway. I wince as I step out into the bar area and glance at the place.
Jesus fuck, what a wreck. No wonder I got drunk instead of cleaning this place up last night. That is the last time I let Mikey Sullivan and his shithead cousin drink Jägermeister in here.
I glance back at Evangeline as I step behind the bar. Jesus she looks out of place. The blonde hair, the white dress, the silver cross. With that dim light from the hallway window still hitting her from behind, she almost looks angelic.
There’s no place for angels in a place like this.
She’s young, too. Not like, young young, but younger than me, that’s for sure. Or maybe that’s a perspective thing. Turning thirty was a bitch, I’ll say that.
The other thing is, she might be all church-mousy in those furtive movements, all piss and vinegar with that uptight attitude, but it’s doing a real bad job of hiding the obvious.
Church girl is hot.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed differently?”
She frowns. “How should I be dressed?”
“I dunno, ankle-length skirts, a bonnet maybe?”
“You know I’m not Amish, right?”
“You’re not?”
She rolls her eyes. “No.”
“Remind me what you guys are again? Some kind of cult thing?”
“Grace Church of Salvation and Divine Retribution is not a cult.”
I scratch the stubble of my chin as I stare at her. “Right, yeah, no, that sounds totally on the level.”
She narrows her eyes at me and I grin. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be dressed like that I guess.”
“Like what?”
“Hot.”
The word catches her off-guard, and her eyes go wide, her face blushing just like it did back in my office when I gave her the full monty.
“I am not.”
“Trust me, you are. You look hot in that dress.”
Her face going a bright red pink color as she huffs.
“That’s a compliment, you know.”
“I know you’re trying to be crude, not complimentary.”
I whistle. “Huh, so you’re going to dress hot, but you’re not going to be okay with a guy telling you you look hot.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Stop dressing hot.”
She glares at me again, and I grin right back, savoring the moment. The light from the hallway window is still coming in from behind her, so truth be told, I’m also still savoring taking in the clean outline of her legs underneath that sundress, too.
“I’m sorry, but I’m kind of in a rush.”
“All in good time, all in good time.” I wave her off as I step behind the bar. “Don’t worry, the house’ll still be there when you get there. Probably.”
I reach behind the register for the familiar bottle of Tylenol. I do want to keep ogling this chick, but I also sort of want to die with this hangover ripping through me. I pop four pills into my mouth and reach for the low-boy fridge behind the bar, grabbing a beer.
Thank God for hair of the dog.
Evangeline makes this disgusted scoffing noise as she sees what I’m doing, and I grin.
“You want one?” I turn to see her scowling at me.
“What? No!”
“Suit yourself.”
“It’s nine in the morning!”
“Tell me about it.” I swig back the beer, swallowing the Tylenol. I glance back and see that she’s looking at me expectantly.
“Right, right. The key.”
“Yes, please.”
“Jeez, you just had to ask.”
Her eyes narrow, and I grin, stretching one arm across my bare chest and then the other and cracking my neck. I open the register and grab the key to Dad’s rental place from the side drawer before turning and holding it out to her across the bar.
She sighs heavily as she steps forward and reaches for it, but I yank it back right before she does.
“Sure I can’t convince you to come back to bed with me?”
“I know what you’re doing, Mr. Hammond,” she says with a huff.
“Oh yeah?”
She swallows, putting on a mean face, but her cheeks are still blushing bright red. “I know what you see in me.”
I grin. “I know what I’d like to see in you.”
Her face gets even redder, if that was even possible, before she swallows it back. She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders.
“I can promise you, Mr. Hammond-”
“Mr. Hammond is my dad.”
“Your dad is Reverend Hammond.”
“Rowan is fine.”
Her mouth goes tight. “Fine, Rowan. I know what you’re doing.”
“Well don’t leave me hanging.”
Her mouth tightens. “Well, I just want to let you know you’re wasting your time.”
“Doing?”
“Doing your darnedest to try and tease me.”
I grin, the beer halfway to my lips. “Did you honestly just use the word ‘darnedest’?”
“It is not going to work, Mr- Rowan.”
“Oh it’s not?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Sure about that?”
“I’m not the sheltered little church girl you think I am,” she says tightly, eyeing me.
“Oh, of course not.”
I step out from under the bar and move to lean against the side of it in front of her, dangling the key.
“I’m not some sheltered little-”
“No, of course not you’re not, which is why you look so comfortable in a place like this.”
“This place is a dump.”
I lau
gh. “Aww, careful now, you’ll hurt my feelings.”
She gives me a look.
“It’s also why you looked like I puked on your bible when I said the word cock.”
She visibly stiffens, her mouth going sour.
“See?”
“I do not, I just don’t need to see that or hear that sort of vulgarity.”
I roll my eyes.
“The key? Please?”
“Not at all thrown off or flustered, huh?”
“I told you, I am not the sheltered little-”
“Fuck am I hung over as shit!”
We both whirl at the sound of Jade’s voice from the back hallway.
I snort.
Jade, wearing just a pair of boxer-briefs and a sports-bra as she shrugs a t-shirt over her disheveled hair.
“Fuck me fucking sideways,” she croaks out.
Evangeline peeps — an actual peep sound, like a baby bird.
Jade’s head jerks up. “Oh, hey,” Jade says groggily at her, turning and giving me a half grin and a raised brow before glancing back at church-girl. “You spend the night too?”
The front door slams open as Evangeline goes bolting out of it.
I sigh and take a sip of my beer.
Like I said. Master of first impressions.
Chapter Three
Evangeline
I’m ten steps away from that horrible bar, that girl, and from that horrible man when I stop.
Because I also realize that I’m heading back to the rental house without the key that we need to actually get inside of it. And I don’t have the key because I totally just ran out of there like a freak show.
What am I going to do, not go back with the key?
“No Dad, I didn’t get the key from the nice minister’s son because his penis was hanging out.”
My mother would faint.
My father might.
“Hey, hang on!”
I spin around to see Rowan jogging down the sidewalk, still in just a pair of jeans, barefoot.
“What?” I snap.
He laughs as he comes to a stop in front of me. “Did you want the key?”
“I asked you ten times for it.”
“Well, but then you left without it. Sort of sends a mixed message.”
I level my frown at him and he grins, shaking his head. “Sorry about Jade.”
“And I am sorry for waking you and your- your- girlfriend.” I let the words tumble out. “I just needed the key, and your father said you had the only copy, and that you knew I was coming over, and-”
He laughs. “Jade? Trust me, not my girlfriend. Nothing like that.”
I turn redder, frowning at the thought of, well, whatever they are.
“It’s none of my business, I just-”
“Believe me, I’m not exactly her type.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don’t have a vagina.”
My eyes go wide before I can stop them, and he laughs. “Uh oh! You’re in Massachusetts now! Better watch out! We’ve got gays up here you know,” he smirks, like he thinks he’s hilarious. “I know you guys don’t really do the whole gay thing down in Bible-land, but up here-”
“I don’t not do the gay thing.”
I can see the shot I’ve set him up for before the grin finishes unfurling across his face.
“No,” I say sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t.”
He laughs. “What?”
“Whatever crude, disgusting comment you were about to make.”
“My lips are scissored. Uh, sealed.”
I roll my eyes, looking away.
“Okay, look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Did you get that impression as well?”
He smiles. “Let’s try again, huh? I’m even wearing pants this time.” He holds his hand out. “Hi, I’m Rowan. Our dads are friends and I think we’re probably going to be working together a lot this fall on this church shit.”
I sigh. “This church shit-” I bite my tongue at the swear, forcing myself to be cordial. “I’m Evangeline. You can call me Eva.”
He takes my hand, and I resist the sudden urge to shiver. “Nice to meet you, Eva. You want that key now?”
“That would be great.”
He pulls it out of his back pocket and drops it in my hand. “All yours. Don’t throw too many parties in the place. I know you bible-thumpers like to get wild.”
I grin in spite of my best efforts not to as I turn and march away from him.
“Oh, right, welcome to Shelter Harbor, church-girl!” he calls after me.
I bite back the grin as I round the corner.
“Did you stop for lunch?” My father snaps at me as he stands from the front steps leading up to the porch of the rental house.
“No, sorry, I just-”
What, I just had to navigate the most obnoxious, crude, disgusting man I’ve ever met? Not to mention the most naked one?
I smile at my father. “Rowan was doing his paperwork for the business — taxes and payroll and stuff. I didn’t want to disturb him until he was done.”
My father’s frown softens. “Good girl, Evangeline. That was good. The Lord smiles on patience.”
I nod, smiling back at him as I hand him the key. I have no idea why I lie about Rowan to my father’s face like that, but there it is.
Welcome to Shelter Harbor indeed.
“You father’s just tired from the trip, dear,” my mother says quietly, placing a hand on my arm before picking up her suitcase and following him up the steps into the house.
“This town smells like fish.”
I smile as I shake my head at Chastity. “It’s just the smell of the ocean. There’s a fully working seaport down in the harbor, you know.”
I’d petitioned to take the ferry to Shelter Harbor from Boston, where we flew into. Father vetoed that in favor of the highway, which I guess is a lot faster. It would have been nice to take in the ocean though.
“Well, it’s a fully working seaport that smells like dead fish.”
Chastity is…intense at times, but we’re friendly enough to a certain degree. She’s my age, and the daughter of one of my father’s parishioners who’s joined us for our stint here in Shelter Harbor before she marries her minister of a fiancé back home. This trip is apparently a way of “getting closer with God” before she joins her future husband in his lifelong commitment to tending his flock.
“You smell like beer, by the way,” she says, frowning as she sniffs at the air around me like she’s some sort of bloodhound.
“No I don’t,” I say quickly.
“You do.”
I start to wrack my brain before suddenly words just come tumbling out. “Oh, right. Rowan was helping a homeless man out front of his restaurant when I got there. Giving him soup and all that. It’s probably that.”
Chastity’s eyes narrow at me. “Restaurant? I thought it was a bar.”
“Oh, is it?”
“You were there.”
“Oh, I’m not sure then. I didn’t really notice, I guess.”
Chastity rolls her eyes as she grabs her bag and heads up the stairs.
I turn, letting the air out in a thin stream as I look down the hill at the harbor. I shiver as my mind flies back to him — of stepping into that office, of seeing, well, what I saw.
The illicit, wicked temptations that came with being around him. I quickly shake those thoughts from my head as I pick up my bag and glance once more at the harbor before turning to the house.
Well, it’s nine-thirty in the morning, and I’ve already lied twice, harbored lust, and had very impure thoughts about a man.
Heck of a way to start the morning.
Keep Reading!
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Burn
Tempting. Volatile. Off-limits. He’s the hottest thing that never should have happened t
o me.
Quinn:
He was supposed to be a one-time thing; my one one-night stand - the tattooed, bareknuckle fighter with a body built for sin who I found beaten and bloodied in my elevator that night. He's the one I patched up, the one I took care of, and the one I apparently couldn’t say no to when his mouth touched mine…
A one night stand. Just one night, right?
Yeah, wrong, because I just found out my “mysterious stranger” is actually going to be my brother-in-law in half an hour.
Logan f**king Dempsey. The arrogant, panty-melting, rude and crude Marine-turned-billionaire who runs my late father’s company. He’s my new boss. He’s the best man in this wedding. He’s everywhere, and I can’t escape him.
No matter how wrong it might be…
Logan:
Holy f*ck. Of all the girls in all the world, she has to be the random chick who found me that night and saved my life?
She looked strangely familiar that night. Now that I know who she is, it’s like original sin staring me in the face.
Good-girl doctor, totally off-limits Quinn Archer is literally the last girl on the whole damn planet a screwed-up guy like me should have anything to do with.
There’s playing with fire, and then there’s sticking your hand in the flames. If I keep ignoring the rules, we’re both going to get burned.
But f*ck the rules. She’s gonna be mine.
Copyright © 2015 Aubrey Irons
Cover Photo: FXQuadro/DepositPhoto
Cover Design: Aubrey Irons
Editing: Sennah Tate
Proofreading: Cassie Dean
Formatting: Vellum
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.