He was a nice-looking kid, but his expression immediately changed to anger as he abruptly turned away. Her gut clenched as she made her way down the sidewalk, never looking back at him again. She also noticed the red jersey he wore with the word “Costa” on the back. At least that was what she thought it said.
The liquor store was still open and busy. But as she headed toward the door, she looked around to be sure no drunks were hiding anywhere then unlocked it and walked upstairs to her apartment. She hated always having this fearful, on-edge feeling in her gut. She was never at ease, never feeling safe or calm at all. She was getting tired of it. Something had to give.
She couldn’t help but think about the kid’s jersey. Maybe it was a school name. She never had the opportunity to go to college but she did finish high school. Of course she was never part of a team, never wore the colors or the mascot of the black cougar on her shirt. She couldn’t afford anything even if she wanted to. But at least she got her diploma. When she thought about the cougar on the shirt, she thought about Rico’s right hand man. Cougar was a maniac. He thought nothing of rearranging someone’s face just for looking at him, Rico, or even her the wrong way.
Thank God Cougar wasn’t at the apartment that night she was attacked. She never would have escaped. She’d be either hospitalized or dead.
She swallowed hard and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The place was very warm tonight and stuffy. There was no air-conditioning. The apartments with those cost a bit more a month. She reached for a hair band and pulled her long brown locks into a makeshift pony and added the hair band. Pulling her hair higher on her head the few seconds of relief from the heat off her neck didn’t last long. She headed toward the window, pushed it open, and looked out across the streets and at all the little beat-up storefronts. At least five or six blocks up were the homes and apartments closest to the beach. Maybe one day she would live someplace closer.
The thought sobered her good mood and made her think about her current financial situation. She either needed to land some baking jobs this week or she was going to have to put that on hold and venture out into the social world and get a job waitressing. That meant talking to people, mingling, and making conversation. She sucked at that. She was shy, liked keeping to herself. There had to be something else she could do for money.
She took a deep breath and released it.
Tomorrow she would bring the pies by the restaurants on the boardwalk and try to sell them or at minimum get the owners to taste test them. Maybe Cindy was successful with Sullivan’s? She would find out soon enough, or it was going to be back on the streets for her, and no semisoft bed to lay her head on at night.
* * * *
Trent Landers was starving as he stopped by the boardwalk in between questioning a witness a few blocks over and heading back to the department for more paperwork and research. He decided on a slice of pizza and wanted to sit at one of the shaded tables that looked out toward the water. He loved living in Treasure Town. It had so much to offer and was growing in leaps and bounds. The department was expanding and Jake McCurran, the sheriff, was looking into hiring more deputies. The board meeting on the budget was in a few weeks.
It sure was hot out today, and the beaches were crowded, the boardwalk, too. It kind of made him think about the off-season when the tourists weren’t around and the people walking or frequenting the boardwalk were locals. It was a hell of a lot less crowded and quieter, too.
He enjoyed the peacefulness of sitting on the beach and listening to the tide role in. It would be even better if there were a woman by his side along with his brothers sharing it.
With thoughts of sharing a sunset with a woman and his brothers, came thoughts of sharing a woman period. The idea was pounding in his brain lately, thanks to Buddy and Johnny.
Maybe he just needed to get laid? Perhaps that would ease this constant ache inside his heart. But with that thought came the feelings of inadequacy and imperfection. He ignored those thoughts and looked around at the people when his eyes landed on something special. Something clicked. Something inside of him, like a radar, clicked on and all he could do was stare. Thank God he wore his dark sunglasses.
How pretty. She’s beautiful.
* * * *
Nina was hungry. She was feeling a little light headed and knew she better go for eating a little breakfast. She could skip lunch, and probably swing a slice of pizza for dinner. Having three meals a day just wasn’t realistic. Not without income coming in. Before she left the apartment, she had a couple of hundred bucks left.
She walked past the various venders. Everything looked so good, but as she read the menu price boards, she cringed. Eight dollars for a small sausage-and-pepper sandwich? There wasn’t even a drink with it or a side?
She bypassed that and continued walking, feeling more and more light headed.
She opted for the pizza place, and as she stood in the heat behind a couple of guys, she could see the homemade lemonade station. Glancing at the price, she knew she could afford the slice and the drink. With lots of ice. It was hot out here today.
When it was her turn to order, she told the kid what she wanted and asked for the lemonade while she waited for the slice. Maybe a little sugar would help her? She took a sip and glanced around. Her eyes locked onto a big guy in dress pants and a button-down shirt. But what really stood out aside from his good looks and dark expression were the gun and badge.
She quickly turned away, the motion nearly causing her to lose her balance. She grabbed onto the counter ledge.
“You okay, honey?” some guy asked as he eyed her over. She knew that look. He couldn’t be trusted. He was looking to take advantage of her. Her slice was up. She grabbed it and her lemonade and looked around for a table to sit at. The one in the shade was where the cop was. She felt so fearful and like a criminal who was wanted and on the run. This guy was really intimidating and looked older than her by at least five or so years. She wasn’t certain.
“Are you okay?” he asked her. She didn’t want to sit there, to join him and make him think that she was flirting, but the truth was that she needed food and she needed to sit before she passed out. This running around looking for work and trying to sell her pies on one meal a day was weighing on her.
She plopped down, very unladylike, into the seat. She held her head, but didn’t look up at the guy. “Thanks. It’s hot.”
“Take a sip of the lemonade before you pass out,” he ordered.
She snapped her head up to look at him. She didn’t know why but she was half-scared and half-confused by his tone. The man was tall, even sitting down, and as he stared at her, trying to read her mind, she locked gazes with his blue eyes.
“I’ll be okay. Just eating lunch a little late.” She glanced away to take a sip of lemonade. Then she set the cup down and lifted up the slice of pizza. It was delicious and the cheese gooey. As she pulled the slice away, the cheese hit her chin.
She quickly set the slice down and reached for a napkin.
“You’re not from around here are you?” he asked and her belly tightened. She shook her head and then took another bite of the pizza.
“New in town or just passing through?” he asked. Shit. Why the hell is he asking me questions? Do I look guilty of something? Shit, what do I do?
“I’m thinking about sticking around, and you? Are you a cop or something?” she asked, turning the conversation around.
“Arson investigator,” he replied, still holding her gaze.
“But you have a gun.”
He widened his eyes. “Yeah, well they give those out to anyone who has a badge.”
She realized he was teasing and she smiled softly then went back to eating.
* * * *
Trent Landers was in shock. He didn’t quite recognize the sensations going through his body as he first caught site of the pretty little brunette. She seemed like she didn’t feel well or might faint from the heat, but she was keeping it together.
He couldn’t believe he told her, ordered her, to sit down at his table. How fucking rude. But she did it, and it aroused him, made him feel like she respected him and took him seriously.
But as he found himself asking her questions, he couldn’t help but wonder who she was, if she were single and lived around here, and how he could get to know her better. He needed to feel her out. The more questions he asked, the more nervous and unresponsive she became. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was up to something. She ate the pizza in no time, basically gobbled it down, and now sipped from the lemonade container.
“Do you live near the boardwalk?” he asked her. She looked at him sideways.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you.”
He couldn’t help but to stare at her. Her eyes were mesmerizing, just like the rest of her. She was very attractive and young. He felt this tingling in his chest. He identified it as concern maybe because she had looked like she might pass out. He didn’t want to just walk away, but he didn’t want her to think he was some pervert.
“Sorry. Force of habit. I’ll leave you to your lunch,” he said, even though she’d chowed it down already. She must have been starving. She looked thin, but still shapely. Why did he think for a moment she was hiding something?
He got up was about to walk away when he noticed the look of relief on her face. She was up to something. What the hell was it and why did he even care?
He walked away but didn’t head back to his truck, instead he mingled through the crowds and kept an eye on her. He told himself it was because he was concerned. He wouldn’t want a young, attractive woman like her to pass out from heat exhaustion and have some random guy come to her aid. Again he had that tightness in his chest. Why would he care if some random guy got to touch her, hold her in his arms?
He cursed under his breath and continued to watch her. Should he go back and flirt? Maybe try to get her number?
Instantly the idea of someone as beautiful and sweet as her seeing his scars caused a numbing sensation to expand over his body and make certain parts deflate, including his ego.
“Forget her and walk away,” he whispered.
* * * *
Nina stood by the railing and watched all the good-looking men enter the restaurant and café called Sullivan’s. Cindy wasn’t kidding when she said some of the best-looking first responders hung out there after their late shifts or even during the day. She should have gotten a clue after seeing that attractive older arson guy at the table near the pizza place. That guy was intense and attractive in such a way that she felt a little funny. Well, maybe not funny, but intrigued. Thinking about liking another man or even admitting to feeling attracted to someone felt scary. It was something she’d rather avoid entirely simply for the reason she could never act upon her emotions. Her poor judgment, lack of self-esteem, and desperate need to feel like she belonged had caused her to nearly die. Nina just wasn’t willing to test fate one more time. She shoved those thoughts aside. She couldn’t, wouldn’t ever trust a man again. Not if her life depended on it.
Nina swallowed hard as she gripped the box with the six different pies in it. She hoped that Cindy wasn’t lying about her boss wanting to meet Nina and try a piece of pie. She was shy, and she knew she needed to be a bit more outgoing, salesy yet friendly, and that made the nauseous feeling hit her gut.
Please don’t let me puke.
She saw Cindy walk out the front door and wave her over. Nina’s heart was pounding inside of her chest. She felt the lump in her now totally dry throat. Taking a deep breath, feeling her sweaty palms nearly lose her grip on the box, she took another deep breath, then another, and headed over.
The moment she entered the place all eyes fell upon her and she nearly lost her ability to walk. Hol. Ly. Shit.
Never in her life had she seen such attractive men all in one place. The male population definitely dominated in Treasure Town. Maybe that was the meaning behind the name. Because any woman lucky enough to snag one or more of these men had totally hit the jackpot.
Cindy helped her with the box. “Relax, they’re just a bunch of regulars, and like I said, you’re gorgeous. I just can’t believe you’re so oblivious to it.” She chuckled then pulled her along. “This is your chance to sell your product. Good luck.”
“Florence, this is Nina. Nina, meet my boss and one of the owners of Sullivan’s.” Cindy introduced them.
“Hello, Nina. I’ve been hearing an awful lot about your delicious pies. We usually order from a distributor out of town, but Cindy was insistent that we try your homemade pies.”
“Oh, I understand,” Nina began to say and Cindy gave her a nudge.
“Ain’t nothing like a locally homemade pie though, Florence. Nina lives in town, just a few blocks over, and can make just about any pie you like,” Cindy pushed.
Florence leaned forward and inhaled near the box. “God, these smell incredible. Is that cherry pie, too?”
“Yes, ma’am. I use all fresh ingredients from the farmers market around the corner, and I get my eggs fresh from them, too.”
“Well, they look beautiful,” Florence said and then looked up as someone approached.
“Whatcha got in there that smells so good?” the man asked. Florence chuckled.
“Nina, meet Lester. He works at the coffee bar here. And he just happens to be a connoisseur of pies. He does the ordering for the desserts,” she said.
Nina smiled. “Hi, Lester. Would you like to try a piece? Your choice,” she offered. His eyes lit up.
He rubbed his hands together. “Okay. I’ll try the cherry pie. It looks as sweet as you, doll.” He winked. She felt her cheeks warm and that tightness hit her chest, but she remained smiling.
Nina lifted the large cherry pie out of the box and then Cindy took out the others, placing them onto the counter. Lester cut into the pie, taking a small slice. He eyed over the slice as if he truly was an expert.
“These are fresh cherries? You soak them and all?”
“Yes, sir. My own recipe,” she added.
“Hey, big guy, where’s your whipped cream?” another man asked as he joined them and wrapped his arm around Florence’s waist.
“This is my husband, Al. Al meet Nina. She baked all these pies herself. She’s looking for us to order some to sell here.”
“We order through the distributor.”
“Oh, but these are homemade locally. You can’t beat that, sir,” Nina added confidently, even shocking herself as she felt her cheeks warm. She looked away, and then when she glanced back at Al, his lip curled up in a small smile. He watched her as if he were analyzing her and she felt that intimidated feeling again.
Please don’t let me get sick in front of these people. Please let them love the pies and order from me. God, I need the money. I need to make it here or I’ll have to leave and live on the streets. God, I don’t want to do that again. It’s so scary.
“Oh my God, this is delicious. I mean, not like just really good, fantastic.” Lester used his fork to scrape up every bit of pie. Florence chuckled.
“Thank you, Lester,” Nina said.
“Let me try,” Al added and picked up and fork and dug into the pie on the side. Behind them Cindy was asking if they were buying the pies because a group of men smelled them and asked for one whole apple pie.
“My God, this is heaven. You made this yourself?” Al asked Nina. She felt her heart racing. She wanted to scream with joy that they loved her pies, but she knew that her luck couldn’t be this good. Something was going to go wrong.
“How much do you want per pie this size, Nina?” Lester asked her.
She looked at Cindy. Shoot, she never thought about a price.
“Well, they are homemade, I do get all the fresh fruits from the market,” she started to say.
“How about this. I get the pies, this size from the distributor for fifteen. If you can offer the same deal then I’ll place an order with you and see how our customers respond
? How does that sound?”
“That’s a deal, Lester. Thank you so much.” She reached out and shook his hand.
“Wonderful. How many pies are you going to need and what kind?” Cindy asked, handing Nina a pen and paper. Thank God because Nina was so shocked she thought she might pass out.
Lester rambled off the pies he wanted, and Florence smiled.
“So how about we take these for now, minus Lester’s cherry pie,” she teased as Lester held the rest of the pie pan in his hand as if he wouldn’t let anyone else try some.
“The cherry pie is on me. It was a sample to let you see what you were buying,” Nina told them.
“Excellent,” she replied.
“Oh, I think we owe you for the others, too,” Florence said.
“What others?” Al asked.
Nina looked on the counter and the pies were gone.
Cindy handed over some money.
“They paid twenty dollars a pie when I told them they were the last ones,” Cindy said. Lester, Florence, and Al chuckled, but Nina felt her jaw drop.
“Twenty each?” she asked Cindy with tears in her eyes.
She was so thrilled. If this kept up, she would be able to save some money and rent a bigger place with a better oven sooner than later.
“A hundred bucks for five pies, and about a dozen very satisfied firefighters with sweet teeth,” Cindy teased.
Nina felt the tears reach her eyes. “Thank you, Cindy,” she said and then turned toward Florence, Al, and Lester.
“Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
“You’d better not. I expect eight more pies here tomorrow morning by eight. Can you handle that?” Lester asked.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“No, thank you, Nina. We’re so glad that Cindy told us about you and your homemade pies. Before long the other restaurants will be ordering, too,” Al said.
Hearts on Fire 4: Kisses Sweeter Than Pie (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4