by Paige Hill
Killing the engine, I step out, stretching my aching muscles. When I unlock the main door, I don’t bother with the lights and head straight for the back room where I hope I’ll find my phone. As I round the corner, voices cause my movements to freeze.
“I don’t know man, but Boss’ expecting that shipment to be at the dock Monday mornin’. If it ain’t, you can consider yourself good as dead.” I hear Greg’s whiny voice as he warns another man. Stepping just close enough so that I can see them, but I’m still hidden in the shadows, I see the two men gather stacks of cash and place them into large black brief cases. The men seem nervous about something.
“Alright man, let’s get out of here,” the other guy says as he closes the latch on the last case. Panic takes over momentarily when I realize I left the front door unlocked. They will surely notice that. Relief eases the tension in my abdomen as I hear the footsteps getting more distant and the distinct sound of the back door locking. Easing my way quietly down the hall, I reach into my waist band to pull out my standard issue Glock. With steady hands firmly wrapped around my weapon, I do a sweep of each room, silently praying I don’t blow my cover.
Satisfied that I am alone, I locate my phone and head back toward the front door, already dialing Briggs. Adrenaline has my body on alert and it’s about damn time I got a lead.
Just as I step into the Jeep, Briggs’ deep southern voice cuts in.
“Dec, what’s up?” he asks, surprisingly chipper for the hour. I’m starting to wonder if he ever sleeps.
“Briggs man, I have some intel. I just walked in on a conversation between Greg Mathews and some other guy I didn’t recognize. I’m guessing he’s some low-level pusher. I got the feeling that the slime ball Greg out ranked him. They had several thousand in cash on the table and Greg told the other guy that he was ‘as good as dead’ if he didn’t get the ‘shipment’ to the dock by Monday morning.”
“Shit. This could be the break we’ve been waiting for. Good job O’Connor. I’ll get a team on this. Don’t blow your cover just yet. Oh, and I almost forgot, I have some info on your girl too. The name and Social Security number she is using belong to a woman who died three months ago. I’ll send over a full report.” He pauses. “Be careful bro. I’m not saying she’s dangerous, but you need to be careful all the same.”
“You know me. I’ve got this.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he mumbles before disconnecting the call. Asshole.
Aiden Briggs has been my best friend since the academy, but he has serious trust issues when it comes to women. At the end of the day though, he’s right. I have no idea what I’m walking into.
Knowing it’s not a smart idea to be sitting out here, I fire up the engine and glance around once more, making sure I’m not being watched. Shifting into reverse, I check my rear-view mirror. The image I see causes me to double take.
Surely not.
Not taking any chances, I slip back into park and kill the engine. I try not to slam the door in frustration before stomping across the street, hoping I am wrong. Of course not. The closer I get, I realize the woman is in fact Taryn. Or whatever her name is. Fuck. What is she doing here? As beautiful as she looks with her silky auburn hair spread out on the headrest, I’m pissed.
Hell, it wouldn’t even be safe for me to sleep in a car out here, let alone a woman.
Gritting my teeth, I try to calm my irritation. Knocking on the window, Taryn startles, her right hand bringing up a can of pepper spray I hadn’t previously noticed. The window is rolled up so thankfully she notices it’s me before she sets that thing off inside the car. Her chest raises and falls dramatically as her pulse races.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But um, you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing sleeping in your car?”
Declan rests his forearm against the frame of my car. His mouth is set in a hard line as he raises a dark brow and looks at me expectantly. I feel like a teenager caught out after curfew. I honestly have no idea how I am supposed to respond. What the hell can I say? Oh, sorry about that. Just homeless, carry on. Ugh…
“I-I um, was waiting for a friend and must have fallen asleep,” I stutter. I’m not fooling anyone.
“Is that so?” he asks, his eyes taking in the contents of my car. “So, let me get this straight. You always carry around a blanket, change of clothes, and food in your car?”
I stare at him with what I can only assume must be a deer-in-headlights look because, well, what the hell else am I going to do? I have no defense at this point. Anxiety creeps into my chest as he reciprocates, staring me directly in the eyes until he drops his head to his chest and sighs heavily.
“Grab your things and get in the Jeep.”
For his safety, I’m going to pretend he didn’t just demand I do something. I’m gathering my breath, so I can unleash exactly how I feel about that until he follows up with—
“Please.”
Well, hell. I look him in the eyes, once more trying to grasp his intentions. Try as I might, I fail to see a hint of malicious intent in his deep green eyes. Why does he care? My heart softens a little at how tender he is being, even though I can see the frustration in his eyes. The rise and fall of his chest, the tension in his shoulders—it feels like he is at the edge of his patience. But why? I’m not stupid enough to think that sleeping here is the safest thing but I’m doing what I need to survive. That’s none of his concern. I’m not his problem.
“Why?” I ask, my voice far more meager than I wish. People have been kinder to me in the last week than anyone throughout my life. It’s something I don’t really understand and its far more terrifying than any abuse I’ve experienced. These feelings are so far out of my reality and the unfamiliar makes me want to climb out of my own skin. I’m not armed with the emotional sensitivity to handle it. Those to whom we reveal our true selves are often the ones that hurt us the most.
“Because you shouldn’t be sleeping alone in your car. It’s that simple. I can see the wheels in your head turning, just let it go and grab your things. It’s late and I’m really tired. We can talk about it later, okay?”
I don’t respond immediately, still on the fence about his intentions. Realistically weighing my options, it’s clear. I’m statistically safer with him than I am here, alone.
“Ok. Thank you.”
It’s really all I can say. The defeat is clear in my tone. I hit the lock on the door and he tugs on the handle, offering me a hand out of the car.
“What about my car?” I ask.
“It will be fine here tonight. Grab what you need, and we can come back for it later.”
I nod my head, suddenly feeling like a burden. As quickly as I can, I grab my toiletries and a change of clothes. Insistent on carrying my stuff, Declan places my bag in the back of the Jeep as I lock up my car. The air is heavy as Declan places a hand at my lower back, directing me toward the passenger door. I shiver involuntarily, and if he notices, he doesn’t react. With my door already open, he gently helps me climb inside the large vehicle. It’s the second time he’s done that. I don’t think Mark ever did. A sense of female pride washes over me. Who said chivalry is dead? I watch intently as he rounds the hood and folds his large frame behind the wheel.
We ride in a sort of awkwardness. Classic rock and unasked questions fill the cab. Street lights shine through the windows, casting a glow on his face. I watch the light dance across his features, the scene only intensifying my attraction. The tense muscles of his back flex as he drives, the movement heating my thoughts.
I should have grabbed an extra pair of panties.
I’m so entranced by the visual, I don’t notice when he turns off the engine.
“Sunshine?” His voice is gravelly.
Embarrassed at having been caught ogling him, I drag my eyes up his torso to his face, taking in as much as I can. The look on his face is one I didn’t anticipate. His brilliant eyes are slightly hooded, and his chest moves faster as hi
s breathing picks up. I begin to feel the vaguely familiar tightening low in my belly. The intensity of the moment is too much and a blush colors my skin. As I turn to look away, I notice the firm bulge in his pants.
“We should head inside,” he announces with a heavy voice I can only describe as desire.
“Why do you call me that?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
“What?” His face twists adorably, reflecting his confusion.
“Why do you call me Sunshine?”
He winces just slightly, a look that says he didn’t realize he’d verbalized it. He stares out the windshield for a long moment before he turns his eyes to mine.
“Because every time I see you, it brightens my day. You have this light. You’re so hell bent on hiding it from the world, believing it doesn’t exist. But it’s there and I see it. I see you.”
He doesn’t offer me the chance to respond before he exits the cab, leaving me speechless. My ears begin to ring as I lose focus on the rest of the world. Unceremonious tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill over my lashes. My mind struggles to accept his words. Not allowing me the chance to stew on that moment, he once again opens my door, offering a calloused hand. Taking my bag from the back, he leads me to the house, my hand still placed firmly in his. He smells masculine and woodsy, a heady combination. I try and fail to stifle a tremble at his proximity.
“Are you cold?” he asks, fighting with his keys.
“No,” is all I can reply, as he carefully reads my face.
Opening the door, he tries in vain to adjust himself discreetly. Knowing I have that effect on him makes me feel rife with female victory.
This woman is going to be the death of me. I know it. Being in the same room with her is proving to be more difficult than I expected. I knew holding her hand was going to be a mistake, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to touch her. Trying to suppress my attraction seems futile at this point. If it were any other woman, I would have fucked her already. But I can’t approach Taryn that way. I don’t want to. That feeling serves as another reminder that I have no idea what her name really is. Or who she really is, for that matter. Clearly, she is lying to me. Whatever the truth is, she will fight to protect it.
I release her hand and toss my keys on the small table near the door. Weariness and fatigue are evident in the lines between her eyes. She needs to sleep so I choose to forgo small talk in favor of helping her settle in. I glance around my small rental as I make my way to the bedroom, her trailing not far behind. For the first time, I feel myself wondering what a woman thinks of my space. I didn’t plan to live here long so my place is devoid of most personal touches. But its masculine, comfortable, and me. My eyes drift toward her face and I watch her expression as she takes in my home.
Opening the door to the single bedroom, I turn to face her as I place her belongings on the bed.
“You can sleep in here. The bathroom is across the hall and you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Good night.” Trying to avoid her eyes, I begin backing out of the room.
“Wait,” she says with one hand in the air. “This is your bed, I’m imposing. I’ll sleep on the couch.” She tries to reach for her bag, but I stop her.
“Not a chance in hell, Sunshine. You’ve been sleeping in that tiny ass car for God knows how long. Either get comfortable or we are both in for a long night.” Her mouth drops at my insinuation. With a dirty smile, I exit the room and close the door behind me.
What was I thinking? She doesn’t know it yet, but we are going to talk about a few things. Soon.
Catching her looking at me the way she was in the Jeep has me wound up tight. Feeling the intense need to wash away the day, I point myself in the direction of the bathroom. My small house doesn’t provide enough space between us. Stripping off my clothes, my thoughts still roam to a place they shouldn’t. It becomes blatantly obvious that my dick didn’t get the message that he wasn’t getting laid tonight.
Fuck. Me.
Climbing into the warm spray, I let the tension roll off in waves. Goosebumps litter my flesh as I allow the water pressure to massage my shoulders. Lathering myself, I can’t help but run a tentative hand over my throbbing cock. Is it wrong to get off to images of the gorgeous woman currently in my bed? Fuck it. At this point, I know nothing about her so why feel guilty? Gripping my lathered palm firmly around my length, I stroke the shaft, images of her plump lips wrapped around it flash behind my eyelids. My hand moves faster as I get impossibly hard. The water pouring down my naked chest, visions of her hair spread out on my pillow, her face twisted in ecstasy as she shouts her release, all create the most erotic scene. The combined sensation amps my nerves and my toes curl as I fight for control. My aching cock is begging for release, so much so that I am trembling. With one hand firmly on the shower wall and the other stroking my erection, I come so hard I have to bite my lip to keep from calling out her name.
That was intense.
I wake to the smell of bacon filling my nostrils. Slowly peeling my eyes open, I adjust to the light filtering through the curtains. Not realizing or caring that I’m covered by only my black boxer briefs, I drag myself off the couch and head toward the heavenly smell. As I round the kitchen island, Taryn looks up and smiles tentatively at me. Her gorgeous auburn hair is messy and falls in waves down her back. My fingers itch to touch it. A will stronger than my own has me imagining what it would be like to slide my hands into the silky strands, tugging slightly as I pull her mouth to mine.
“I hope you don’t mind. I figured since you were kind enough to let me stay here last night, the least I could do it was make you breakfast.”
It takes me a second to snap back to reality as her words process. I am incapable of stringing words into a coherent sentence, so I remain silent, content watching her eyes roam appreciatively over my naked chest, down to the tent in my boxers. Whoops. Of his own volition, my cock takes notice and jumps at her appraisal. The air feels thick and my breathing becomes labored as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes locked on mine.
“Hungry?” She asks, attempting to shatter the intensity in the room.
Oh Sunshine, you have no idea. I’d love nothing more than to play out this little pornographic scenario, but I have questions that need answers. When I touch her, I want her to trust me completely. It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that she’s been through hell.
Mentally chastising the offending appendage, I move to fill a mug with the coffee she has already brewed. Since I don’t trust what is likely to come out of my mouth, I settle for a wide smile, and help her move food to the table.
We eat in silence for a few moments, only the sound of forks clinking between us. She is the first to break the silence.
“Thank you again for everything. I hate to ask but do you think you could give me a ride back to my car after breakfast?” She looks at me hopefully.
I don’t like the idea of her sleeping in her car, but I can’t very well demand she not leave my house. The lingering questions need answers and I want to get to know her. The real her. How am I going to approach the topic without blowing my cover? She’s built an impenetrable wall, intent on never letting anyone in.
Damn good thing I’m built like a wrecking ball.
“Sure. Do you have any big plans for today?” I ask attempting to make the upcoming offer seem less obvious.
“Um, well no, not really.” She says, trying to avoid eye contact. Its moments like these that make it difficult for me to equate the fun-loving Taryn at work and the shy timid woman in front of me. This is not who she truly is.
“I planned on going down to the pier this afternoon—maybe do some fishing,” I shrug my shoulder nonchalantly. “Come with me.” I made a statement rather than a request in hopes that she wouldn’t second guess the situation and decline.
“Oh, um…”
What the hell am I supposed to do? Unprepared for his statement, I am caught completely off guard. My jaw goes slack a
nd I struggle for words. I am positive I resemble a barking sea lion in this moment. I don’t have anything planned for today. I haven’t worked long enough to get a paycheck, so I’m stuck in my car for another week or so. My day would have just been filled sitting in cafés…
I want to accept but I know the ramifications could be serious and I don’t have time to consider the consequences. He eyes me carefully, an expectant expression on his handsome face. My face flushes and anxiety takes hold as the awkwardness settles between us.
“S-ure. I’d love to.” My voice is shakier than I’d like, and I clear my throat.
I know I need to stay away from this man—honestly, people in general. I’ve spent most of my life afraid to talk to people. These last few weeks have brought forth characteristics of my personality I thought to have been long gone. That realization alone is both terrifying, yet fulfilling. I am comforted with the knowledge that I can adapt to a new life, yet afraid that opening up could get me caught. Or worse. Doing so is dangerous, but I really want to get to know the man Declan is.
“Great. After we finish eating I’ll load up the Jeep.” He smiles, and his face reflects what I suspected; my response surprised him. He was sure I’d say no. If I weren’t so nervous, the moment would have been comical. I hide my smirk by shoving my fork into my mouth. A long silence fills the room. Something that, between the two of us, seems to be a regular occurrence. One I am not at all bothered by. Maybe I should be.
Declan heads to the garage to gather the necessary fishing equipment, and I decide to clean up the kitchen in his absence. I clear the table, package up leftovers, and get to work on the dishes. I find solace as I keep my mind busy. Making my way around the room, I feel more at home than I have a right to. The task doesn’t take me long, so I opt to start wiping down the counters while I wait.