by Stacey Lynn
Freckles dotted her nose, making her seem more innocent and naive than I knew she was.
Legs that were every man’s wet dream.
A chest that was just the perfect, small handful, and lips that could make me think only one thing—how good they would feel stretched around my dick.
I scooted forward, unable to tear my eyes away from Trina’s pretty body and her hesitant look. She wasn’t beautiful in a glamorous way, it was more in the sweet, Southern way.
Based on her accent, I assumed that’s where she was from.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to forget my obvious physical attraction.
I had told her the truth. She was safe in my house and I wouldn’t touch her. I had to stop looking at her that way.
“We need to talk,” I said and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
Her lips pressed together and she looked away.
I continued, for my safety as well as hers.
“You know I want you here and I want to help, Trina, but there’s a few things I need to know.”
Her eyes fixed on mine and her arms crossed defensively over chest.
“I need to know if you’re in trouble,” I began. “And before you jump up and assure me you can leave, I want you to think about one thing.”
“What?”
“Where are you going to go without any cash? I mean, you can sell your car. It’ll give you a nice safety net, but I’m guessing you don’t want the paper trail that will follow, and then how are you going to get anywhere?”
“You just have this all figured out, don’t you?” She looked away and that niggling feeling that I was being an asshole returned, but there was too much at risk here for me to stop.
“I’ve asked a woman I don’t know, who could be some major scam artist or in huge trouble with the law, into my home. I’m doing this taking the chance that you’re neither of those things, but you have to understand why I need to know, Trina. I would have asked you this last night when we were talking, but Derrick was here and it wasn’t the right time.”
I forced my voice to soften and leaned back in the couch, hoping I was showing her that I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t mean to turn the tables on her, let her think I’d brought her into my home out of the goodness of my heart just to trap her, but I hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, either.
“I’m not in trouble with the law,” she whispered, and sucked her lip in between her teeth.
“Just running from the man who hurt you?”
She nodded and her chin quivered. I closed my eyes and imagined finding the prick, throttling him with my bare hands, and then beating the shit out of him so he felt more pain than he’d ever inflicted on this woman.
The strength of the protective instinct I was feeling was scary. Even around Mara I’d never felt the overwhelming urge to pummel some asshole for looking at her the wrong way. I had a feeling that the first leering glance some guy gave Trina, he’d have my fist in his face before he could blink the vision of her cute, tight ass out of his thoughts.
“My husband,” she admitted, eyes blinking rapidly. I had figured that out on my own last night. “I left him a week ago.”
“Is he going to come looking for you?”
Another chin quiver, another bite down on her lip as she refused to meet my eyes.
“Not trying to hurt you, Trina. Not trying to push you, either, but I know someone who might be able to help you.”
Her head jerked and our gazes met. “Who?” she drawled, slowly and suspiciously.
“I got a friend, Tyson Blackwell. He lives in town now, but he works for the FBI.”
“No.” She jumped to her feet. “No cops. No law enforcement of any kind.” Shaking her head wildly, she paced toward me and pointed. “I’ll leave. I don’t know what I’ll do without the money, but you have a point. I do need to get rid of my car. I’m not sure how yet, but I’ll figure it out. You’ve been kind, I swear. But this…this isn’t going to work.”
“Woah.” I stood and held my palms out, eyes wide. “I don’t know what just brought that freak-out on, Trina, but are you forgetting some asshole not only broke the law by almost breaking your face, but you’ve also had shit stolen from your hotel? You don’t think those things are connected? I’m just suggesting having Tyson look into it.”
“They’re not connected.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because.” She laughed coldly and sat back down. As I watched her try to get comfortable, I returned to sitting on the couch. “Because I left a note for my husband telling him I went on a spa trip.” Her eyes flickered to mine, but the look I returned showed how confused I was. When she spoke again, her voice was softer…sadder. “It’s what I usually do…well…after…when I can’t be seen in public. He’s not even expecting me home until tomorrow.”
She sucked her lip between her teeth and I knew we both realized she’d said too much.
What in the hell did this guy do, where his wife had to leave town when she was too bruised to be seen in public?
Something important, that’s what.
I didn’t let on that I thought there was anything strange about what she’d said. Instead, I asked, “He hasn’t tried to call?”
“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “I threw my phone out before I crossed the city limits, and I bought one of those pay-as-you-go ones before I left the state, but he hasn’t done that in three years, so I’m not sure why he’d do it this time.”
“What was your plan when you hit the road?”
“Canada,” she whispered after a prolonged silence. “Figured he can’t do anything to me if I leave the country.”
I arched a brow. “But he can if you stay here?”
Her face paled before she sighed. “I’m guessing it’s not lost on you that I come from money,” she stated, almost as if she hated it. I wondered if it was the money she loathed, or her circumstances. Perhaps it was the loss of money that made her lips twist with disgust. “My husband is important and powerful, and has an incredibly wide sphere of influence. He’ll be able to find me wherever I go, which is why I was planning on crossing the border. At least there, his influence is less.”
The demand to know what her prick of a husband did for a living was on the tip of my tongue.
“And you won’t let me ask Tyson even to just check and make sure he’s not looking for you? It could buy you time to stay put and make some money before you head to the tunnel,” I said, referring to the Windsor Tunnel, the way most people got to Toronto from Detroit.
“I think the less people who know, the better.”
“For who?” I demanded, my frustration leaking through in my tone. “For him or you?”
“Both,” she snapped, and stood up.
“You ever hear about the Mafia family, the Galeckis, that were arrested in Detroit this past summer?” Confusion flared in her eyes, but I kept speaking. It was on every news network, national and worldwide, for weeks. There was no way she hadn’t heard. “Tyson was responsible for that. His girlfriend, Blue, is a Galecki, and they dated—have a longtime history between them—but they dated while Tyson worked that case and she never found out until she had to. Tyson can be circumspect, Trina, I promise.”
“You’re friends with them?” she asked, recognition widening her pretty, brown eyes. “And she goes by Blue, now?”
“Long story.” A grin twitched at the edges of my lips, because, yeah, it was a strange-as-hell nickname. But it was also because she refused to go back to ever being called Gabriella again, and her middle name, Bluejay, was something she’d always loved.
“I won’t force you,” I lied. I was calling Tyson the minute I could. She might hate me for it one day, but I wanted to protect her and Tyson could help.
Her eyes flicked to Boomer, passed out on the floor. Apparently, the big brute of a dog could only hack chasing squirrels in my backyard for so long before he was drained of all energy.
“I’
ll think about it,” she conceded.
“Good. It’s all I ask.” I slid my hands into my pockets and let her think I was giving up. “Now, I have to get to Fireside this morning and start getting ready to open up. You want to come hang out there today or stay here?”
Or take off?
We were both thinking about her doing that.
My breath caught in my throat while I waited for her to decide. Why did I want this woman close to me?
It made no sense, I just knew that’s what I wanted.
“Can I come with you? Maybe help out or something? I think I’ll drive myself crazy if I’m here all day with nothing to do.”
A thought came to mind and I grinned. “How good are you with computers?”
—
“You’re a fucking genius,” I told Trina.
Her eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen before.
As if she had to summon the strength to sass me, she bit her lip before saying, “I think you’re up to ten dollars now.”
I grinned. Last night, when she’d looked terrified at the realization she’d talked back to me, I couldn’t help but make a joke to ease her fear. The thought that she hadn’t been able to speak her mind unnerved me, further increasing my rage toward whatever asshole had been married to a sweet piece like her and abused it.
My old man always said you could take the measure of a man by who he chose to stand by his side.
I’d never doubted that saying until now. Trina seemed like a hell of a woman, and proved it all day as I showed her my accounting software and the piles of shit on my desk. Within hours, she’d whipped my office into shape. I planned on paying her for her time, even if I couldn’t afford it.
“Saturday nights are busy nights,” I said as a knock came on the office door. Moving to open it, I looked back at her. “You’ll hear a lot fucking worse before the night is over.”
Her lips twitched, like she wanted to add up my tally, but stayed silent.
Emily stood on the other side of the door, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. She was early for her shift, which wasn’t a surprise, but her pale skin concerned me.
“What is it?” I asked, opening the door further and letting her in. When she caught sight of Trina sitting at the desk, her eyes widened further.
“Trina, Emily. You two saw each other yesterday,” I said by way of introduction. As soon as both women said hello, Emily turned to me.
“I’m so sorry to do this to you,” she said, her hands twisting together. “But I just found out my older sister is in labor. Her baby’s coming three weeks early and her husband is still deployed. My mom is stuck at work, so my sister is headed to the hospital on her own.”
“Go,” I told her, not needing hear any more. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and waved her toward the door. “Do what you have to do. Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded quickly and exhaled.“Okay. Thank you, Declan. You’re the best.”
“Just go help your sister.”
She turned around and hurried out of the kitchen, hitching her purse over her shoulder as she walked away.
“Shit.” It was thirty minutes before her shift started and it was going to be hell finding a server to replace her on such short notice. Our afternoon server, Maggie, had to head home soon to be with her kids before her husband left for his night shift at one of the auto plants, so she couldn’t stay.
A snicker behind me caught my attention.
“So, now that we know you’re good on computers,” I asked, grinning, “any chance in hell you know how to take orders or seat people?”
Trina rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from the desk. “When I suggested hanging out here today, I didn’t realize I’d be put to work.”
It was the first time she’d outright teased me.
“I’ll pay you. Plus you’ll get to keep whatever tips you make.”
“It’s not a hardship, Declan. I did do some waitressing in high school, so I’m sure I can figure it out.”
Pressure eased from my chest at her words. I turned to call out to Maggie.
“Mags!”
She slid an order of food onto her large tray and smiled at me. “What’s up, Dec?”
Trina followed me to the counter. “Trina’s going to help on the floor tonight. Any chance you can show her the computer system and a menu before you go, to give her some time to get comfortable?”
She smiled easily. “Of course. That’s not a problem at all.”
While Fireside Grill hadn’t been turning a profit over the summer, I was fucking lucky as hell that I had great employees. All of my people were hard workers and genuinely friendly.
“Sound okay to you?” I asked, turning to Trina.
“Yeah.” Her eyes drifted down the length of Maggie’s petite but curvy frame before she looked at me. “I’m not sure I’m dressed right, though.”
She had a point. Her green tank top and black yoga pants weren’t exactly Fireside Grill material.
“I’ve got more shirts in the break room. I’m sure one them will look fine with your black pants.”
“Okay, then.” She turned to Maggie and smiled. “Show me what to do.”
—
“Is working in a restaurant always this exhausting and painful?” Trina asked as she stretched her back, hands low on her hips.
She let out a groan that made me think of a handful of things I could do to get her to make that sound somewhere else. Some of them involved the use of my hands.
I hadn’t been able to stop myself from thinking those thoughts all night long.
Watching her working, smiling at customers, and eventually, giving my head cook, Javier, a bunch of crap for teasing her about one of her messed-up orders, made me admire the hell out of Trina.
She had worked her butt off. Now, at just after two in the morning, except for Javier going through his closing duties in the kitchen, we were the last people here.
“You get used to it,” I muttered, before moving to the next table as we got ready to close.
She helped place another chair on the tabletop so when Maggie opened in the morning, it would be easier for her to vacuum and get the floors cleaned.
“I haven’t worked this hard for years.” She grunted as she lifted a chair. I ditched my own table to help her when I saw the exhaustion in her limbs.
“What’d you do before?”
I let the question casually slip out and continued to flip chairs onto tables, waiting for her to answer. I acted like it didn’t matter if she answered me, although for some reason it did—I actually wanted to get to know her.
“Public relations and marketing,” she finally said.
I froze, chair halfway to the table, and looked at her.
She did that bottom-lip-chewing thing and turned away.
“Did you like it?”
“I guess. I mean, yeah, I enjoyed my job, I just never really wanted to work for a living.”
The thought made me scowl, which I tried to hide. Mara had always said the same thing. She wanted to be a stay-at-home wife. The hard labor of the restaurant was too much for her.
The life we’d talked about starting was too much for her.
I closed those thoughts down. There was no point in comparing the two women. Already Trina had shown herself to be a harder worker than Mara ever was.
“Why did you quit?”
“My husband thought my time was better spent at home,” she finally mumbled after another strained silence.
This time when I looked at her, she didn’t seem worried or fearful, just sad.
An ache pinched my chest and I forgot about the next chair I was reaching for.
I walked toward her slowly, giving her time to know I was coming closer. When I reached her, I placed my hand on her shoulder.
Warmth spread from my palm on her skin all the way up my arm to my chest, forcing me to take a breath.
She tightened h
er shoulders, but didn’t pull away.
“I might not know specifics, Trina, but I think you walking away, you making this choice for yourself to be safe, is quite possibly one of the strongest fucking things I’ve ever seen a woman do. You should be proud of yourself.”
She chuckled softly and shook her head. “Thanks, Declan.”
I squeezed her shoulder once and dropped my hand before I did something stupid. Like run my fingertips down the inside of her arm, touching her soft skin until I could feel her pulse racing at her wrist.
Or leaning in and brushing my lips against her cheek, where the bruise was just barely visible through her makeup.
“We should head home,” I said, hearing the gruffness in my voice.
It couldn’t be hidden. I had just gotten turned on by touching her through the fabric of her shirt. My body reacted like I was a teenager who couldn’t keep his pants zipped.
Whatever was happening with me needed to be shut down.
Immediately.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head as if she were clearing a haze. “Boomer probably needs to eat.”
“I bought him food this morning,” I told her as we headed out of the dining area and back to the kitchen. The lights were off over the grill, which told me Javier was long gone now.
“You did?”
The surprise in her voice made me turn to look at her. “Dog needed to eat, Trina. What’d you think I fed him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Eggs?”
My lip curled as I bit back a laugh. “Not sure I want to be cleaning up egg vomit.”
“You’re probably right.” She walked up to me, and this time she reached for my hand. Her petite fingers curled around mine and she squeezed once before letting go. “Thank you. You’ve been really kind and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
I licked my lips, dropping my gaze to her plump and perfect ones. I could definitely think of a way she could make it up to me.
Asshole.
“Don’t mention it.” I turned around and walked to my office, where I made quick work of shutting down the computer, grabbing her purse, and turning out the lights. When I met her at the back door, uncertainty flickered in her eyes as she glanced away from me. Her cheeks were pinker than they should have been and I had to bite back a groan.