by Stacey Lynn
“Yeah. I needed this football season more than ever to hit as hard as it did.”
I frowned and lost track of the twenties I’d been counting. I’d seen his accounts and he wasn’t lying. The Fireside Grill was struggling to stay in business. Although that day had been busy, the rest of the week had been pretty slow. From what I’d seen in his computer reports, the last several months had been slow.
“Does it typically slow down in the summer?”
“Some. Most people head north to their weekend places and go on vacation, but this summer was worse than any other I’ve seen.”
“What have you done with advertising?” I asked and turned my back to the register.
I hadn’t worked for years, and the work I did do was more public relations than advertising, but ideas began slowly rolling through my mind.
He shrugged and slid a rubber band around a stack of tens. “Ad in the paper. That sort of thing. We get enough foot traffic that I haven’t done too much more.”
My lips twisted to one side as I fought to not tell him how wrong he was with that kind of thinking. As far as I could tell, the businesses in Latham Hills would all prosper if they banded together and marketed themselves as a whole. Detroit was a huge metropolis with lots to do and even more places to eat, but a lot of those places were downtown, where the tourists went to watch the professional games, see the theater shows, or visit the museums. Out in Latham Hills, they needed to be louder.
“What is it?” he asked, turning to look at me. One thick black brow arched over his eye. “You’re thinking of something.”
“Again?” I smirked. “Heaven forbid I get caught doing that twice in one day.”
A flash of concern radiated from his eyes before they crinkled at the outer edges and his lips pulled into a smile. “Teasing me? I didn’t think you had it in you.”
My smile faltered. “I haven’t had much to joke about lately.”
“Shit.” He tossed the money he was counting onto the counter and walked toward me. I threw up a hand and stopped him, shaking my head.
“I didn’t mean that, Declan. But I do have some ideas for you, a few that might help get attention, some that won’t cost you anything.”
“Like?” His curiosity piqued, he stood with his hands on his hips.
“Well. Does Latham Hills have their own fire department?” The building where Fireside was located seemed to be an old, renovated firehouse.
“Yeah. We have three stations, but most of the firemen are volunteers.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Well, I was thinking, they probably do a lot of fundraising. I know back home they do. Unfortunately, while the fire departments and EMT services are some of the city’s most important assets, they’re not always funded accordingly.” When I realized I hadn’t answered his question, my excitement growing as I had a batch of new ideas I desperately wanted to write down, I explained. “You could host a fundraiser here. It’d be cool to have it in a place like this, with all its history, and the memorabilia you have hanging on the walls. Maybe a bachelor-fireman date auction. Or…” My face lit up and my eyes widened. “You could host a photo shoot for a fireman calendar.”
He scowled. “A calendar? An auction? You mean with, like, half-naked men around?”
“Think about it.” I leaned in closer to him, like I had a secret, even though there was no one else around to hear us. “Yes! It’d be perfect. Your restaurant would be in the background. We could do a group shot outside or something. So when people are flipping through the calendar, and trust me, those sell like my nana’s peach pie at a church festival, they see your place in every shot. Women will line up—and some men,” I added with a wink in response to his growing scowl. “And they’ll want to come here to see if they can spot any of the firemen. An auction will bring in tons of people, women mostly, for a night of drinking and food. You can increase your clientele on days when there is no game, easily.”
He was silent for a moment, appearing to think it over. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. It was a long shot, and I was a bit rusty with my ideas. Maybe meat-market auctions and sexy calendars were too passé.
“What other ideas do you have, though?”
“Lots,” I said, and let out a breath when I realized he wasn’t completely blowing me off. He really did want to hear my ideas.
By the time three in the morning rolled around, the tills were finally counted and we were just locking up the restaurant. My head was spinning with more ideas, even as I explained the ones I’d already thought of.
Declan and I had both been jotting down notes for the last hour. While he double-checked to make sure the door to the alley was locked, I had to cover a loud yawn. But we had at least a half-dozen inexpensive marketing and advertising ideas to follow up on in the next few days.
“So you did this kind of thing before?” he asked, resting his hand on my lower back. I let him guide me to his black pickup. He waited by the open door while I slowly climbed in.
“Sometimes. I did more public relations and helping business with their image, not as much marketing. It feels like it was in another life though.”
I wasn’t even sad to admit it. It was simply the truth.
My life before I began kowtowing to Kevin about everything seemed like another plane of existence.
“It’s too bad you quit,” Declan said, watching while I buckled the seatbelt. “You’re damn good at it.”
I turned to him and smiled. I didn’t know if he could see it in the darkness, but I did know he couldn’t see the butterflies that were stirring in my stomach from the simple compliment.
Because whether Declan knew it or not, that was the first compliment I’d been given in what felt like years.
“Thanks, Declan,” I replied.
His smile in return told me he knew exactly what he’d done.
As I watched him walk around the front of his truck and climb in, then start it and pull into the empty street with ease, I wondered how it was that he seemed to know me so well.
When I hardly knew who I was anymore.
—
My eyes jerked open and I blinked when the truck stopped moving. I jolted awake to find myself sitting in the cab of Declan’s truck in his narrow driveway. He was already walking around the front of his truck to get to my side. He opened my door before I unbuckled myself.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
He held out his hand for me to take hold of. “It’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.”
I smiled and placed my hand in his, letting him help me down. “It’s a four-block drive.”
He laughed softly and let go of my hand, then set his at my back and ushered me toward the front door. “Takes a while to get used to this kind of schedule,” he said as he unlocked it.
We stepped in, me going first, and I couldn’t help but suck my bottom lip in between my teeth.
His hand on my back felt so good. Warm. Comforting.
Delicious in a way that shouldn’t be possible.
Perhaps I was still slightly sleepy.
Boomer trudged around the corner, welcoming us back home, as he tended to do every night.
He slid his front paws forward, sticking his butt up in the air while he stretched, and then yawned as he reversed the move.
My hand covered my mouth as I fought my own yawn.
“Let me help you up the stairs,” Declan said. He guided me toward them before another yawn forced its way out of my mouth. “I’ll take care of Boomer once I’m done.”
I didn’t know what made me shiver—knowing he was taking care of me, or that he was also taking care of my dog. Boomer and I had lived a life surrounded by people for the last several years, yet it had been a lonely existence.
In a week, Declan managed to begin chipping at my walls of seclusion, forcing me to open up, and yet it hadn’t seemed forced at all. I was giving parts of myself to him freely, and I knew that what
ever I gave him, whatever small pieces I felt comfortable sharing, he was taking care of them.
He was taking care of me, and he was taking care with the bits and pieces he was giving me.
It all left my body feeling energized. Wanting something.
And when was the last time I’d wanted anything except freedom?
“Declan?” I turned to face him as we reached the doorway to my bedroom.
“What is it?”
I swallowed my trepidation and my nerves. For once in my life, I was going to go after what I wanted.
What I desired.
Something good for me.
Consequences be damned.
I licked my lips and watched his eyes drop to follow the movement, and then I took a shaky step forward. “I want you to know,” I whispered, rolling onto my toes and placing one hand on his shoulder to steady myself, “that I want to explore this with you, too.”
Before he could respond, I brushed my lips against his cheek, tasting him for the very first time.
It was like what I imagined a first hit of heroin would be. Head-spinning.
I was even more unsteady as I let him go, rolling back off my toes.
I’d taken one step away when his arm snapped out and was at my back, pulling me flush against him.
“Can’t tease me with just a tiny taste like that, sweetheart.” One side of his lips curved up just as his mouth descended, slowly, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t.
I leaned closer, my breath coming in short, panted spurts.
“What do you want, then?” I whispered.
“Just a kiss. Just one more kiss.” His head tilted and his lips brushed against mine. I gasped on an inward breath at the delicious way his slightly unshaven beard scraped my heated skin. His lips were soft but firm, gentle but commanding. Then his lips pressed against mine more firmly.
And I was tasting him, the tip of his tongue brushing against mine. I was floating on the clouds, falling…flying.
“Declan,” I whispered, finding my hands gripping his waist.
A rush flowed through me. I savored every moment, every taste of him, and every touch of his tongue against mine.
It was the best kiss.
It was the best feeling in the world when a low groan slipped from his throat. I was affecting this large, powerful man.
I shivered, pressed myself more firmly against him. His hands at my back glided upward until they were clasped at the back of my neck.
I melted into him, loving the feel of his hands on me. So strong and possessive, yet so gentle. As if he knew exactly what I needed and wanted nothing more than to give it. To me.
The kiss went on far too long, and ended much too soon.
I swallowed and opened my eyes to see Declan’s dark-brown eyes on mine. My gaze dropped to his lips as he licked them.
“I think I’m going to need more than that,” he said, lips stretching into that grin I’d been seeing all day. “But for now, you need your sleep.”
He reached around me, wrapped his hand around the doorknob, and pushed open my door.
“In you go, before I go back on my word and push you further than we should go tonight.”
My lips twitched, fighting a grin, and my fingertips pressed against my lips. I wanted to seal the taste of him into my skin.
I looked at him, opened my mouth to tell him that if he walked through that door with me, he wouldn’t be pushing me past anything I didn’t want to give him, but I changed my mind at the last moment.
The kiss was huge.
It changed everything.
If we decided to move forward, I wanted to ensure I wasn’t making another colossal mistake.
“Good night,” I whispered, shuffling past him into the room.
“I’ll bring Boomer up to you after I take him out.”
I nodded my thanks and peeled my eyes off him when he lingered a bit too long in the doorway, as if walking away from me was a physical weight he didn’t want to move.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he finally said, and stepped back, pulling the door closed.
I barely had enough energy to strip off my clothes and change into my pajamas before I collapsed on top of the bed. I fell asleep before I could rethink the most beautiful kiss I’d ever received.
When I woke up, Boomer was sleeping at the foot of my bed, and I was no longer on top of the covers, the way I was when I fell asleep, but tucked firmly under them, making it clear that even while I was sleeping, Declan wanted to take care of me.
Chapter 11
Declan
“This better be good,” I grumbled into my cellphone. I’d just been woken up by my obnoxious ringtone, and my voice was scratchy and dry.
Tyson’s chuckle vibrating in my ear made me perk my ass right up.
“What is it?”
“You are in deep shit,” he said, the laughter evaporating with a breath.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and jumped to my feet.
Not even forty-eight hours ago, Tyson left my house after promising he’d do what he could to look into Kevin Morgenson III. Damn, what kind of narcissistic prick actually had numbers after his name?
Arrogant name aside, I hadn’t been expecting Tyson to call me about him this early on Monday—just hours after I’d finally fallen asleep.
And I was more than pissed that he’d just interrupted the dream I was having of Trina. Her thighs straddling mine, her head thrown back in pleasure as I sank into her from beneath her. Her nails digging into my chest. Her hips rocking against mine. The curve of her back when I took her from behind. The brief kiss we shared last night had unleashed deeply buried desires I’d been harboring, but hadn’t let myself admit.
When I finally fell asleep, they rushed through me with hurricane-force winds.
Hell, I even had to take a cold shower before finally climbing into my bed. My dick had hardened at the sight of her sprawled on her stomach on her bed. The soft little noises she made when she was totally passed out made it impossible not to think of sex and fucking. Touching her to move her under the sheets almost snapped my self-control.
“I called in some favors first thing yesterday, and my contacts have filled me in on a wealth of information about your precious Trina’s husband.”
I sneered at the word.
He was no husband.
I rubbed my hand over my head, feeling the prickle of hair that needed to be shaved, and clasped the back of my neck. “And?”
“And the guy’s a fucking piece of work is what. But all the bullshit he’s pulled and then gotten hidden by state police over the years isn’t why I’m calling.”
I pressed my tongue against my teeth to keep from snapping at my friend. Patience was never my strong suit.
“Listen,” he said, quieting his voice. “I gotta ask before I tell you this. You sure this is the woman you want to throw down for?”
“What the fuck do you mean by that, Blackwell?” I growled. Hell. I didn’t know if it pissed me off that he had the guts to ask me that, or if I was pissed that I’d thought the same exact damn question after hearing about her husband.
Trina didn’t come with baggage.
She came with a convoy of troubles, and probably issues I hadn’t yet discovered.
Unwrapping her, getting her to a good place—a safe and emotionally healthy place—could take a long time.
But that fucking kiss.
That kiss last night itself was enough to make me know what I wanted.
“Morgenson’s in the wind.”
All my breath whooshed out of my chest in one large exhale. “What the fuck?”
“Yep. Asshole’s gone. No one has seen or heard from him in a week.”
Fuck.
“Which means he’s looking,” I said, knowing that’s where Tyson’s train of thought was headed.
“We’ll find him.” Confidence rang rich in his voice. It did little to quell the rage that w
as beginning to build in me. Fear. Not for me, but for Trina and what would happen if she ran into the asshole again. “But it’s going to take some time. You got somewhere you can take off to for a while? Maybe Arizona to see your parents?”
Beautiful idea. Not gonna happen, but I still grinned when I thought of my mom meeting Trina. She was the kind of woman my mom could relate to.
“I can’t get someone to cover the restaurant that long,” I admitted, my reluctance clear. “But I can get her away for a couple days.”
“Not sure that’s gonna help, but I’ll pressure the guys here to start searching. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Pressure in my chest. Uncertainty a stampede in my gut. I felt sick.
“Yeah.” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck again before dropping my hand. It curled into a fist as if danger was knocking on my door. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“I’m putting myself at risk of deep shit for this, Dec. I gotta ask again. She worth it?”
I wanted to throw in his face that he got involved with Blue when she was his damn undercover target. Was she worth it? Not that I said shit then. I saw the man before he introduced her to me. Just the way he said her name was proof enough.
The certainty in Trina’s eyes last night when she stepped toward me and said she wanted what I did popped into my mind.
There was no other answer to give except, “Yeah, asshole. I’m sure.”
“That’s all I need. Let me know where you’re going and when you’ll be back once you get a plan together. Based on how long Morgenson’s been gone, I wouldn’t wait.”
Fucking hell.
Before I could reply, he ended the call and silence echoed in my ear.
I hit the End button and tossed the phone onto my bed before heading to the shower and getting ready for the day.
I’d give my assistant manager, Mac, a little bit of time to wake up before I gave him a call to let him know I’d be out of town. I hoped that by then I’d know where we were going.
And that Trina had agreed to come with me.