Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  “Anne is your real name?” I asked, wanting to know the truth.

  “Yes. Anne Carter,” she answered softly, and I leaned forward until my lips met her hairline where I breathed in her comforting scent.

  “What happened the night of the storm, Kitten?” I asked her and breathed a little easier as her body relaxed against mine.

  “He found me. I was working at a small diner. An old buddy of his stopped by about three days before, but I didn’t think he’d recognized me. I was wrong.” She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. “I had just worked a double, and Zoey was in the room, asleep. I opened the door and he came at me before I could even blink. He was on something. I screamed, yelled, hoping someone would hear, and got lucky. My neighbor, Mr. Campbell, stepped in and made him leave. He recognized who Blake was related to and knew what that meant; so he helped me pack up. He gave me a little money, and I left.”

  “Why didn’t you ask your family for help?” I asked, watching the pain in her eyes shining through.

  “They won’t speak to me. We had a falling out about me leaving Iowa to come to school here. They’re conservative and set in their own ways, and I was stubborn. The moment I left Iowa, they stopped talking to me, and I didn’t try to reach out either.” Her voice drifted into a whisper.

  "Okay, baby." I ran my fingers to the nape of her neck, her calm purrs making my body wake up even more. Surprisingly, I was pretty calm. I liked that she trusted me and didn’t try to shy away from the truth.

  "Belle Garibaldi recognized me?" She asked, her eyes fearful, and I pulled her in. Anne's beautiful face was at my neck as my fingers continued calmly stroking hers.

  "Yeah, Kitten." She pulled away from me, and I knew she was thinking about running away, and that thought alone made my stomach turn.

  "What if...?"

  "What?"

  "What if...? Oh God, John, what if she goes and tells..."

  "Shh...Baby, you have nothing to worry about. Not when it comes to Belle."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  “Do you trust me?” I asked her straight up, a slight tingle of nerves starting to thump over my heart that I tried to ignore.

  “What?”

  “Do you trust me, Kitten?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation and I smiled.

  “Then trust me when I tell you Belle won’t say shit to Downey. Trust me, the little shit is not someone she needs to impress."

  “What about Mr. Downey?” The worry in her eyes roused something in me.

  “Nothing to worry about. Belle Garibaldi doesn't like Downey, she has her own reasons.”

  “Who is she?” I watched as she bit down on her lip, and I could tell she was worrying about overstepping and asking me personal questions.

  “She’s…” A simple lie was at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t do it. “What do you want to know?”

  “Who is she? What does she do?” The way her eyes showed their curiosity made me wrap my arms around my chest and step back.

  “She runs a member’s only social club called Shine.”

  “Like a country club?”

  “Like a strip club that has a great restaurant.” Her eyes widened slightly and she bit her lower lip.

  “A strip club?”

  “It’s a very exclusive place. She also has a—” at a loss of words, I stopped talking and looked at her. What the fuck am I thinking telling her this? She tilted her head slightly and I couldn’t help myself.

  “A stable of girl escorts.” Her eyebrows went up. I knew I wasn’t doing myself any favors by sharing this shit, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. “Some are just arm candy and others . . . ”

  “Do more?” She guessed, her lips slightly twitching, and I scowled.

  “Yes.”

  “Hookers?” She whispered and I nodded, not breaking our stare. Her eyes went wide. “She’s a pimp.”

  “She’s The Madam of the West Coast.”

  “Shine?” She asked, her head tilting slightly.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you two are?”

  “I used to be one of her best members.” Fuck it. It was better for her to know this shit now than later.

  “You dated hookers?”

  “Escorts. And no.”

  “No?”

  “I didn’t date them,” I told her.

  “Oh.” She almost sighed in relief and I couldn’t help it. I told her the truth.

  “I fucked them.”

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide, eyebrows elevated. She was probably shocked at my crassness, but it was better for her to know. I had to lay it out so she didn’t have some rose-colored idea of me.

  “I told you I wasn’t a good man.” I took another step back, my body yelling at me for putting the space between us. I watched her slide down the counter slowly, patting her butt, her eyes not really meeting mine. Not that I was looking directly at her.

  “I’m...I’ll be in my office,” I muttered, not knowing what to say or do. All I knew was that she’d talked about her shit ex and I had told her about whom I used to see.

  Sitting at my desk, looking out the window, I couldn’t concentrate. Thankfully, Bernadette was an angel and had everything under control in the office. I closed my eyes, my hands in fists at the memory of my kitten on the couch spread out just for me. Sighing, shaking my head, I opened my eyes. Rubbing my face, I realized how stupid I was. What the hell had I been thinking telling Anne I used to see escorts? I had never slept with a woman overnight, had never been in love, and had slept with escorts. She was probably thinking she’d gone from one mess into chaos. I was walking mayhem. I was forty-three years old and not worth her time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Anne

  The morning and afternoon flew by, and John didn’t come back down. I’d cleaned and cooked and had played with a now napping Zoey. I watched as he walked and spoke to a security company that came out to take a look at the guest house. The one thing he didn’t do was come back to see me.

  The more I tried not to think about John, the more my thoughts flew to him. Had he left because of Blake? Because of what I’d told him or because of what he had shared about the women he used to see? The more I thought about it, the more questions arose. What had happened for a man like John Davenport to shut himself off from caring?

  I’d seen him with his friends. He cared about them, but he didn’t let them get close. He hardly let anyone know how he felt. He’d hinted he’d fallen in the past. I wondered what had broken a strong man like him. Keeping him from reaching for something more than what he had. What made him live in a massive old house, all alone, without neighbors? It made me sad for him. It made me want to give him something. But I wasn’t sure I was strong enough, or if I had anything to give at all.

  Glancing at a sleeping Zoey and the gentle way her chest moved as she breathed in and out, I wondered what was best for her. Growing up, I hadn’t been particularly close to my parents, but my grandmother had been my best friend. She always used to tell me to live, to dream big, and never stop. She was a straight-talker and never sugar-coated things. Closing my eyes, I could see her brushing my hair and telling me, “Annie, if dreams don’t come true, do not be afraid to make new dreams.” Opening my eyes, I looked at Zoey then glanced up the stairs. New dreams. Something came over me. I didn’t know what, I just knew that one foot moved in front of the other, and suddenly, I was standing at the doorway of John’s study about to knock on the door that was slightly open. From where I was standing I could see his rugged profile. His face was covered with dark stubble, he probably hadn’t shaved since Friday night, but it looked good on him. It made his square jaw look more pronounced. His dark eyes were staring out the window. I wondered what he was thinking about, and without a second thought, I knocked.

  His eyes met mine, but he didn’t say anything. I had no doubt that John Davenport could make a killing playing poker the way he never gave anything away.

  “Hi.”<
br />
  “Hey.”

  “Can I come in?” I asked, putting my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and he nodded.

  “I …” Not sure what to say, I licked my lips, then chickened out, “Are you hungry?”

  “Hungry?”

  “You didn’t eat lunch, or breakfast. You’ve been up here all day. I was just—”

  “I’m fine. Thank you, though,” he told me, and I looked at his hands holding on to the armrest. I thought about how talented those hands were, about the strength they had, yet the gentle way they touched.

  “Did you come up here because of who Zoey’s dad is and now you’re freaked out about it?” I blurted out, heat rushing over my face.

  “No,” he responded, his face still not giving anything away. I hated it. Biting my thumb, I looked at his dark eyes studying me.

  “I have been away from Blake for a year and a half.”

  “Anne.”

  “No. I … I would like to tell you this. I need you to understand. I know that it might seem like eighteen months away from him was not much time, but it was. You see, in those eighteen months I went through a pregnancy and became a mom. A single mom. Raising a child on your own changes you.” Stepping forward until I was in front of his desk, I just kept talking. “I put myself back together. I know I was broken on the inside before, but having Zoey gave me purpose. She gave me the strength to put myself back together. It wasn’t easy, and it was scary as hell. Thankfully, I found a good place to work, a great lady that owned the diner, Mrs. Garcia. She could see that I was running from something and she gave me a chance. I put myself back together, John. I had to. Not just for me, but for my little girl. I don’t regret keeping Zoey away from him or his family. I know I did the right thing.”

  “You most definitely did.” He surprised me and I frowned.

  “You confuse me.”

  “Why is that, Kitten?”

  “Why did you leave the kitchen this morning?”

  “You needed time to think about the kind of man I am.” The anger and frustration I was feeling towards him shutting himself off disappeared, and I stood still, hoping he would share more.

  “You don’t need to get close to a man like me. I think we both know that. I’m forty-three, you’re what? Twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-six.” He looked at me. I’d obviously surprised him.

  “I’m too old for you,” John clipped and looked away from me. If I wasn’t so I annoyed at him I’d laugh.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” His eyes came back to me. “Nick fucking Riley is too fucking old, too.”

  “Nick’s a nice guy,” I remarked, trying not to smile at how cute he was when he got jealous.

  “Yeah. He would probably be good at having a relationship.”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, “He seems like the kind to be very communicative and open.” I could feel his eyes on me.

  “What?” He asked and I looked at him.

  “He’s talkative and gentle.” I didn’t look away as I kept talking, “But he doesn’t make me want to argue,” I said with a smile on my lips. The confusion was clear on his face as my eyes moved to meet his.

  “What?”

  Swallowing hard as I stepped around his desk, I took a chance. I pulled his chair back and knelt in front of him, my hands on his knees. He looked down at me, his eyes hopeful for a quick second, but the hope was instantly replaced with unreadable coldness.

  “A couple of days ago, you told me you wanted to fight with me. I want to fight with you, too. I like it when we banter, it’s fun. I know that it’s safe and not dangerous to do it. You … you might be a little older, but I don’t think of it as something negative. John, I like you.”

  John

  “I like you.” Her big eyes looked up at me, her voice was soft. I tried to keep my shit together and not just grab her and hold her close. I sat still.

  “John? Did you hear me?” Worry filled her eyes as her hands started to leave my lap. I instantly covered them with mine.

  “You need to be sure.” My voice was husky and my skin was too warm.

  “I am,” she said. Two words. Two fucking words and they were breaking me apart.

  “You need to know the kind of man I am.”

  “Were,” she quickly responded, and I was caught by surprise. How does she do that? No one ever does that.

  “You haven’t been there since the night of the storm, have you?” She asked as my heart was beating hard. I shook my head. “Why?” She asked, and I pulled her up, settling her on my lap, noting the perfect way we fit together.

  “I couldn’t.” My voice sounded slightly hoarse.

  “You like me, too.” The softness in her voice was a tease to my self-control.

  She smiled at me. Something so simple, yet taken for granted so many times. But I knew the sincere feeling behind it. I was in the presence of a priceless treasure. Her face brightened, and I couldn’t help but trace the smooth skin down her jaw with the pad of my thumb. My hands were aching to touch her, to hold her, to feel her any way possible.

  “More than I should.” Breathing in deeply, she curled up into my arms, her face in my neck.

  “This is pretty complicated,” she stated, her still soft and sweet voice doing things to my mind.

  “Us?” Us? What the hell is wrong with me! I was the last thing she needed. She was not what I needed. I needed space and control and...

  “Yeah,” she sighed, and just like that, my mind blanked.

  All the voices that had been screaming at me to push her away and stop this went silent. Her breath tickled the skin at my neck. My chest and something else inside of me tightened.

  “I don’t think it’s too complicated. We get to know one another, date—”

  “John, it’s not safe for —”

  “I’ll take care of Downey.” Her body stiffened in my arms, and I rubbed her shoulder. “Not like that. I’ll make it clear you are off limits. I’ll talk to his dad. Trust in me that I’ll handle it. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. Not about Blake fucking Downey at least,” I confidently told her, and she nodded into my neck.

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you for telling me about him.” She nodded, her body soft and snuggled close into mine. I smiled, feeling better than I had all day. My kitten was in my arms. “How about some dinner?”

  “It’s ready downstairs,” she said, and I kissed her forehead.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  John

  The week unfortunately passed in a blur. I hardly saw Anne and Zoey.

  After dinner on Monday, Zoey’s teething that had started earlier that day worsened, and I made Anne stay with me at the house, hoping that I could help her. Luckily, around four in the morning, Zoey fell asleep, the three of us in my bed completely exhausted. Opening my eyes after nine that morning, I snuck out, called Bernadette and asked her to find someone to deliver all three meals to the house and telling her that I would be in the office in a couple of hours. Unfortunately, my plans hadn’t worked out. Not twenty minutes later, just as I was finishing up responding to pressing e-mails, Bernadette called with a problem that I had to take care of in the office.

  When I arrived at the office, I found a bigger problem that had to be taken care of in person, which meant I had to go to New York. I made Anne promise to stay at the main house, taught her everything about the security system, and asked Mike and Nick to keep an eye on her.

  Nick made sure to give her more than enough work to keep her busy, and from our nightly talks I knew she was enjoying it. The joyful tone of her voice made me glad that I had pushed Nick to give her a chance. He’d been more than impressed with her work so far.

  Now, it was finally Friday night, and I was waiting at the airport to catch a red-eye back home. How the hell had she made my place feel like a true home? I’d been gone for most of this past week and it was beyond me, but she had, and I wasn’t going to overthink it. I was going to keep pus
hing the voices of doubt to the back of my mind.

  Anne

  After you become a mom, sleep is never the same.

  Add in the fact that I was on the run, it was easy to say I was a very light sleeper. Even asleep, I was always aware of my surroundings. Right now, my eyes were closed and I felt Zoey’s body next to me, her little hand holding on to one of my fingers. My mind was slightly muddled with sleep, but I heard the door opening in one of the extra rooms. John had wanted me to stay in his room, but it hadn’t felt right.

  I could feel the warm sunshine coming in from the window hitting my face, and I let myself enjoy the silence. Somehow, I floated back to sleep, only to come back. My mind felt Zoey’s little face in front of mine, her sweet breath on my face, and a large hand on my bare shoulder and an even bigger body behind me. For a moment, my body stilled, not sure if I should fear whose hands were on me.

  “Shh… it’s just me, Kitten,” John’s deep, rumbly voice seeped into me, making my body relax against his.

  “You’re back,” I whispered. When he peppered my shoulder with small kisses, I was glad I’d worn a camisole with shorts to bed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Mmm…I’m glad you’re home.” My mind still heavy with sleep, I cuddled deeper into him, my bottom nestling into his front, his fingers moving my hair so that his mouth was at my neck. I felt him breathe in deeply and wondered if he was breathing me in or if he was just tired. Somehow I fell back asleep. Deeply content and cozy, I felt completely safe for the first time in a very long time.

  ***

  Waking up alone in the guest room was the last thing I expected. Turning my head into his pillow, I breathed in deeply everything that was John. Standing up, I wrapped myself in my grandmother's cardigan since all I was wearing was a black camisole and soft baby blue cotton boxer shorts. Just like that, I went in search of John and Zoey.

  It didn’t take me long to find them. They were in the living room and couldn’t see me from where I was standing, taking in the scene in front of me. Zoey was standing, holding on to the couch and staring up at John. Her bright blue eyes were happy as she giggled and he talked back to her. Watching him as he smiled and laughed while he was talking to my baby girl, made me feel like I was about to melt into a puddle of goo. He was always handsome. But this was something that softened my heart as I watched the usually stern and scowling John happy and talking to my daughter.