Hard Cover

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  I took a deep breathe. “Yes, thanks.”

  My mother.

  My father.

  Jeannine freaking out.

  Stephanie freaking out.

  Rory hadn’t called. Why did I do that to myself? I forced a smile. “Thanks. You can delete them now.”

  “Keep the pictures?”

  I hesitated. “Yes, please.” I could torture myself with them later before deleting them.

  I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room and took a few hundred out of my pants, then put it in my wallet in my purse.

  “This is going to take about an hour. Do you want to grab something to eat and then come back?”

  “Sure. Is there an Internet café around here?”

  “Two stores down,” he said, jerking his thumb.

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  I bought myself a large café mocha and a cinnamon bun the size of my head and started looking for cheap hotels or rentals. I didn’t have much of a plan, but while I was on the train I had a lot of time to think. I figured I’d find a boutique that would hire me so I could float a bit while my self-confidence came back. I hesitated about checking my email, but I couldn’t stay away.

  My in-box was overflowing. I deleted all the junk mail and was surprised at how many of the Haven townies sent a note saying how sorry they were my shop burned down. My family also sent freak-out emails. And there was one from Rory. The subject line said “Call me,” and there was nothing in the body of the email.

  “No,” I said. He made it clear that I wasn’t wanted, and while that wasn’t okay right now, it was going to have to be. If I heard his voice, I would probably burst into tears, and that would damage my hard-earned serenity.

  I wound up typing a short email to Jeannine, telling her that I was going away for a while to get my head on straight and that I would call her with the details once I was settled. I asked about the cat and then sent it before I could ask about Rory.

  After I polished off the cinnamon bun, I headed back to pick up my phone. My first call was to a cab to take me to a Travelodge. I paid in cash up front for a week, and while it wasn’t The Ritz-Carlton, it was clean. While I pored over the want ads, I found a tattoo parlor was looking for a front desk person. Calling another cab, I headed over there. Traffic was a nightmare. I was glad I wasn’t driving.

  The owner and I hit it off and he told me I could start tomorrow. He also gave me directions to a fantastic sushi restaurant and I splurged, treating myself to some sashimi and cucumber rolls. I took another cab to the closest beach. It was crowded, even at this time in the afternoon. Sitting in the sand, I watched the waves go in and out. Even if this just turned out to be a vacation, seeing the water felt healing. What was that Garth Brooks song? Something about two piña coladas, and heartaches were cured by the sea.

  It didn’t cure my heartache, but after a few hours I was beginning to feel like myself again. Sometimes things happen for a reason. I had been stuck in Haven trying to prove myself, when no one was looking for me to do that. I missed the store and I missed my customers. Most of all I missed the potential.

  I could have pulled it off. If it wasn’t for Hans and his pyromaniacal tendencies, I could have had the best sales month of my career. I would have had a new place, new merchandise, and be on much more solid footing. Instead, it felt like my father won. Jack won. My landlord and the selectmen won.

  It galled me that I lost through no fault of my own.

  “It’s not fair,” I told the ocean. But it didn’t care.

  I wanted to be back at the hotel before sunset, so I reluctantly brushed the sand off my ass and called another cab to take me back to the hotel. It wasn’t easy and I thought I’d have to call for an Uber, but I eventually got there. The air-conditioned lobby felt like heaven and I was looking forward to a shower. It wouldn’t be like showering on Rory’s yacht, but it also wouldn’t be like showering at the YMCA either.

  A man in a trench coat stood up from one of the couches and walked over to me. I inwardly groaned. I hoped he wasn’t a flasher. But as he moved to intercept me on my path to the elevators, I whirled on him aggressively.

  “What?” I snarled, loud enough that the desk clerk looked up.

  He was a big bastard, with a broken nose and piercing dark eyes. “Whoa,” he said, holding up two hands. “I have a message from Mr. Parker for you.”

  “What?” I blinked up at him. Rory sent a goon after me? Did he think I stole the necklace he gave me? I touched my throat.

  He handed me a note card. It said, Don’t you fucking move. I’m on my way.

  I had to read it twice. “This isn’t his handwriting,” I said accusingly.

  “No, it’s mine. He dictated it from his plane.”

  I must have heard him wrong. “You mean from the airport?”

  “No, he was in the air. His personal jet just came into New York this morning from Vegas.”

  Of course, he had a jet.

  “Who are you and how did you find me?”

  “I’m Stash Petrov.” He held out his hand. “I’m a private investigator.”

  I shook his hand, feeling as if I was in a daze. “He hired a PI to find me?”

  “I’m on retainer.” Stash shrugged. “If you’d like to check out of here, I can take you to Mr. Parker’s hotel.”

  “Does he own that too?”

  “Is the right answer yes?” he asked.

  “Never mind, I’ll stay here. I’m paid through the week.”

  Stash looked around the hotel. “I hope you didn’t pay much.”

  “Is Rory really on the way here?”

  He checked his phone. “He landed in LAX an hour ago. He should be here in an hour or so depending on traffic.”

  “I’m going to go to my room and . . .” Freak out. “Freshen up. I’m in room 304.”

  “I know.”

  “Of course you do. Would you send him up when he gets here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Stash took a seat in the lobby facing the door. I had a wild thought that if I tried to escape he’d follow me. “How did you find me?” I had to ask.

  “You love Uber. We tracked down the driver that took you from the hospital and dropped you off at the train station. We accessed the cameras to find you and see what train you got on. We lost you briefly in Los Angeles, but I got a ping when you changed over your phone and then again when you accessed your mail. You threw me for a loop when you called a cab from the phone store, but the Internet café worker remembered you. We pulled up your search and I was able to track down what hotel you were staying at by calling and asking for your room.”

  “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “All in a day’s work.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me.

  I went upstairs took the world’s quickest shower. Afterward, I flopped down on the bed. I read Rory’s words over and over again. He sounded pissed. What did he have to be pissed about? He broke up with me. I was still stewing when there was a heavy knock on my door. Peeking through the hole, I confirmed it was him. He was definitely pissed. But my heart was thumping with excitement rather than fear or anger. Opening the door, I was about to invite him in when he pushed me into the room and slammed the door with his foot.

  “What?” I managed to get out before he yanked me into his arms and crashed his mouth down on mine in a bruising kiss. I fought back with my tongue ring until I realized that I was enjoying this way too much. He was crushing me, and I didn’t care. Oh what the hell. I gave into the heated kiss, resisting the urge to tear his shirt off.

  Rory had no compunctions: the buttons on my cheap blouse bounced off the floor when he ripped it open. When he flipped my bra up, I launched myself on him. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I locked them around his torso. He staggered for a moment, sending us both onto the bed. We stripped each other, not caring what tore or was ruined, and then we were rolling around on the bed.

  Rory did spare a glance at the envelope full of h
undreds in my pants, but there was no time for explanations. He grabbed his own pants for a condom pack and came back to me.

  As soon as the condom was on, he pushed inside me. No sweet murmurs, no checking if I was ready—boy was I. Rory slammed into me and fucked me with such force the bed springs protested. The headboard hammered the wall so hard the picture fell off the wall, narrowly missing our heads.

  I tried to remember I was mad at him, but it was hard when his teeth were at my throat and his fingers were pinching my nipples. His hard cock drove into me until I joined the cacophony of sounds by moaning his name over and over again.

  He came first with a shuddering growl that barely sounded human. I followed seconds later, watching the fierce lust turn into languorous pleasure. He was still fucking me while I held on to his shoulder gasping in contentment.

  “Don’t . . . you . . . ever . . . fucking . . . do . . . that . . . again.” He accented each word with a hard thrust.

  I trembled. “What? Come so hard I go blind?”

  “Heh, no, that’s fine. I mean leave without a word. What the fuck were you thinking?”

  I shoved him off me, ready for the fight now that my body had been satisfied. “You made it clear you were done with me. I had nothing left so I took off.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I love you, you fucking idiot!” he shouted at me.

  “I love you too, asshole. That’s why when you said I couldn’t stay with you on the yacht I figured you were too pissed about me lying to you. So that meant we were through!” I shouted back.

  “I am pissed you lied. But I didn’t want to railroad you into living with me after only dating for a few months. I wanted you to get a fucking apartment and rebuild your fucking store.” His voice was only slightly less loud than a shout.

  “I don’t have a fucking store. It burned the fuck down by your asshole crab puff friend.”

  “I bought Larry out. They’re my fucking stores now. And I’m rebuilding yours with a legal apartment above it.”

  “You . . .” I ran out of words. “You what?”

  He flopped back onto the bed, removing the condom. “You’re exhausting and this mattress offends me.”

  Slugging him in the arm, I confirmed what I thought I heard. “You’re rebuilding the shop with an apartment above the store?”

  “Yes. For you. You crazy bitch.”

  I launched myself into his arms. “I can’t believe this.”

  He grunted and cuddled me closer. “I thought I lost you. You fucking disappeared. If it wasn’t for Stash, I think I would have lost my mind.”

  Sighing, I snuggled into him. “I needed some space. My whole world had shattered. I needed to just get away.”

  “You couldn’t have picked a nicer hotel?”

  “Some of us aren’t billionaires, you stuck-up snob. This was all I could afford and I’ve paid for the week, so I’m staying here. Oh, I also got a job. I’m a receptionist for a tattoo parlor.”

  “Or,” he said, “we can stay at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills like civilized people and you’ll let me buy you a new wardrobe and a fucking Fendi purse.”

  “Why would I do that?” I asked, leaning up on an elbow.

  “Because, Ms. Independent, I will go down on you until you can’t remember your own name.”

  “Deal.”

  Epilogue

  Dawn

  One year later

  “You have to get up,” Rory said.

  I rolled over only to get a fluffy tail up my nose. I named the cat Ash because she and I survived the fire, but I had to arm wrestle Jeannine to get her to give her back to me. That’s okay, though, because Auntie Jeannine still gets visiting rights, and she brings a can of tuna, so she’s the favorite.

  “Don’t wanna,” I said with as much maturity as six-year-old Spence, who was coming to watch the Fourth of July parade from the shop. After busting my ass to get the shop fully stocked for the summer crowd that was going to pack in, Rory and I made another video last night. We had quite the collection, and I couldn’t get enough of watching them.

  “You’re going to at least want to get dressed. Unless you like showing off my handprint on your ass.”

  I wiggled it and then screeched when he bit it. “Stop with the foreplay or we’ll never get out of bed.”

  “Get in the shower,” Rory said. “I’ll make the coffee. It’s going to be a long day.”

  “Not motivating.”

  I heard him go into the kitchen and start the pot. I took a few more minutes to myself to enjoy the softness of my bed and the bright, airy bedroom Rory had built for me. Well, for us. He spent as much time here as I did in his New York condo or on his yacht. Touching my necklace, I smiled at the memory of Rory giving it back to me. I had thought it was gone for good, but he had taken it for safekeeping while I was in the hospital. I never took it off. Two months ago, he gave me an engagement ring to match.

  Both parents shit enough bricks to build a library. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered what they said. We were in love.

  After a quick shower, I slipped on a light blue shift to match my new hair color. Sliding into my comfortable shoes, I accepted a cup of coffee and a kiss from him. I ran my fingers over the tattoo on his forearm. When I told Rory that I wanted a sleeve tattoo of demons representing all of my fears and the people who wronged me, he decided his tattoo would be a demon slayer. His parents were horrified, but I thought it was hot as hell—especially since she looked like me and had a baseball bat in one hand and a switchblade in the other.

  Rory had the day off, but he was on family duty. My family and his were going to go cruising around the Thimble Islands. He was in charge of making sure no one killed each other or caused great offense to start a family feud. I think he was just happy that Cammy was going to join them as well. She was finally walking on her own. She doesn’t remember much about her life before the coma. She recognizes people and she knows who she is, but details escape her. Spence had been a great help in bringing her back into the world of the living. She hadn’t seen the point of trying until her son started visiting her. Cammy was still not 100 percent, and maybe she never would be. But she was back to living at her home with an in-house nurse. Her husband, Kendrick, and Spence lived there too. She enjoyed being back on the boat and with her family, and she really liked hanging out inside the new Hard Cover store.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said, unable to resist another kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Rory said.

  I walked downstairs to my store. Chelsea and Bridgette were already there. Stash was lurking around in the corner for security purposes, but I think he just had the hots for Bridgette. I looked up as the bells over the door cascaded into a lovely sound announcing our first customer of the day.

  Millie stood there arm in arm with Mr. Grant. She was beaming. Mr. Grant looked the same as he did when he was my high school teacher. He smiled at me and walked up to the counter with Millie.

  “You guys look great,” I said, amazed that after all these years they were back together. “How did you find each other?”

  Millie pointed at Stash. “That nice young man was able to track down my Teddy Bear for me.”

  I resisted the urge to gag at the sweetness and love. Jeannine told me Rory and I were the same way, so I didn’t have a leg to stand on. “What brings you in here today on your day off?”

  “We’d like to buy a studded dildo, please.”

  It may seem strange to dedicate a book to a cat, but this is a special one. Seventeen years ago, we adopted a stray. She looked like a Himalayan/Siamese mixture with a bit of rag doll in her and a fluffy white tail that looked like a plume. She had beautiful blue eyes and was the prettiest alley cat to ever eat out of a trash container. My husband hadn’t wanted her. I negotiated and told him he could smoke cigars in the house and name her if I got to keep her. So he named her Ash because her fur was the color of a cigar’s ash. Over the past seventeen years, she has bee
n my writing buddy. She sat next to me, on top of me, or next to the keyboard where the hot air blew. She hid behind my monitor. She gnawed on the corner of my laptop. I used to joke that working with Ash near me was like typing on an old-school typewriter. Except instead of pushing the carriage back to return, I’d slide her off the keyboard. Her favorite positions were in the circle of my arms if I was typing on the table or with one paw on my wrist while I was typing at my desk. Together we wrote over twenty-five novels and short stories. She’s an old lady. For a cat, she’s had a long life, but her kidneys are failing. I thought I would lose her before this book was due, but she’s not ready to go. Not yet. However, I named Dawn’s cat in the book after her because when it is her time to go over the Rainbow Bridge, a part of me will be comforted that she will live with Rory and Dawn forever. So I dedicate this book to my writing buddy, Ash.

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank my fantastic team at Random House for all their hard work and for their patience and kindness. Thank you Sue, Gina, Madeleine, and Erika

  BY JAMIE K. SCHMIDT

  Sentinels of Babylon

  Necessary Evil

  Sentinel’s Kiss

  Club Inferno

  Heat

  Longing

  Fever

  Hawaii Heat

  Life’s a Beach

  Other Books

  Stud

  Hard Cover

  PHOTO: JOEY JONES FROM EXPOSURES

  USA Today bestselling author JAMIE K. SCHMIDT has published more than thirty short stories in small-press journals and e-zines. She’s an active member in the Romance Writers of America. When not writing, she relaxes with a mug of hot tea and knits or makes beaded jewelry.

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