Kyle (Hope City Book 4)

by Maryann Jordan

  “God dammit!” he yelled, rushing toward her. Their bodies collided, and as she flailed about, he wrapped his arms around her and maneuvered her to the ground. “Stay down!”

  He had not taken a direct hit from the irritant, but his eyes teared and he sucked in a ragged breath. He pinned her to the ground with one hand on her back and swiped his hand over his eyes and nose, blinking to clear his vision. Hearing rapidly approaching footsteps, he looked up and saw Alex approaching, weapon drawn.

  The girl continued to wiggle and sputter, and he flipped her over. A streak of dirt mixed with a trail of tears on her cheek marred her otherwise flawless complexion. Coughing, trying to catch her breath, she blinked rapidly. Finally, her eyes stayed open, and he gasped when staring into the familiar green orbs.

  For a few seconds, the underbelly world of Hope City disappeared as the two stared at each other. “You?” he growled, recognition hitting him, barely aware that she had uttered the same word in equal disbelief.

  2

  One week earlier

  The Celtic Cock was already crowded by the time Kimberly Hogan arrived, pushing through the front door underneath the sign of a rooster inside a Celtic circle. While in downtown Hope City, the appeal of the bar was its location—tourists didn’t find it and college students avoided it since it was a popular hangout for the Hope City police and first responders.

  The owners eschewed trendy and went for real. Mismatched bar stools, high-top tables, and chairs would have been enough for the eclectic interior, but with framed photos of first responders from days gone by adorning the walls, the effect was unique. A couple of pool tables were in the back to one side and in the other corner was a small area for dancing. Not that there was room to dance on a night when the local team was playing and the wide-screen TVs held everyone’s attention.

  Maneuvering her way between bodies, she skirted closer to the bar as she continued to squeeze between people until she came upon the table of friends.

  “Bekki! Caitlyn!” she called out.

  “Hey, girl,” they both said in unison.

  Hugs ensued, and she hefted her bootie up onto the stool after giving her drink order to the server. “It’s been a while since we’ve met each other here. Jeez, it’s crowded! Reminds me of the days when we’d hit the bars near campus.”

  “Those were the good ol’ days, when the more crowded a place was, the more guys there were to meet,” Bekki added while shooting a glare toward the back of someone who bumped into her stool as they walked past.

  Caitlyn nodded her agreement. “I love the Celtic Cock, but it always seems like I run into my brothers here. Of course, with two of them now spoken for, it makes it a little bit easier!”

  Kimberly scrunched her nose as she attempted a sip of wine while being jostled from behind.

  “I have to agree. It’s hard to have a conversation here and, just like Caitlyn, I find myself trying to avoid my brothers,” Bekki said.

  Kimberly envied the other women—she had no family to run in to and wished she did. Eagerly sipping her wine after the server set it in front of her, she tapped her foot on the rail of her stool in time to the Celtic music, but the overall noise was distracting. “Everyone has to talk so loud to be heard over the music and the music has to be loud so that you can hear it over everyone’s conversations. Seems counterproductive, doesn’t it?”

  Caitlyn laughed and said, “Try having five hundred teenagers in the cafeteria at one time. Sometimes I think cafeteria duty is going to make me deaf! Well, that and pep rallies.”

  “I don’t see how you do it,” Bekki said, shaking her head slowly. “That many teenagers in one place… good God, think about the hormones!”

  “At least the two of you have jobs in your fields,” Kimberly said, sighing slightly. “Spending my day writing up brochures on the benefits of one drug over another is hardly my idea of a stimulating career. Maybe if I’d majored in marketing, I’d find it more interesting.”

  Bekki agreed. “I was lucky to get the internship at the news studio that led into a job.”

  “That type of journalism fits you so well. For me, I wanted to use my journalism degree to write human-interest stories. But here I am, five years after graduation and still working in marketing.”

  “Can you do that on the side?” Caitlyn asked, snagging cheesy-fries from the plate they were sharing. “Maybe write some freelance pieces?”

  Taking another sip of wine, her lips curved and she wiggled her eyebrows, catching the attention of both friends.

  “Ooooh,” squealed Caitlyn. “Are you already doing that?”

  “Thanks to a helpful hint and nudge from Bekki, yes. A small-but-growing e-magazine was looking for articles, and I’ve written several that they’ve taken. They seemed to like my work and have offered me a continuing contract.” Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head. “Actually, it’s not a continuing paid contract. No salary or anything like that. But they said that anytime I write something, as long as they have room, they’ll print it, and I’ll get paid.” Shrugging, she added, “It’s not much now, but I’m hoping to parlay that into full-time or maybe use the experience to write on my own.”

  Caitlyn and Bekki high-fived her and their conversation was interrupted by another friend stopping by. Sandy Carmichael, a petite blonde with a sarcastic wit and a twinkle in her eye, hugged them each.

  “Grab a stool and join us,” Caitlyn offered.

  Flashing her wide, white-toothed smile that generally brought men to their knees, Sandy shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve been here for a little while and it’s time for me to head out.”

  “Alone?” Bekki asked, eyes wide.

  Sandy shot a glance to the side, her smile falling slightly. “Yeah, I have to work tomorrow. Anyway, you girls have a nice night, and we’ll grab drinks together another time.”

  As Sandy made her way toward the door, Kimberly leaned to the side, searching for the reason for Sandy’s hasty departure.

  “I can tell you what she saw,” Caitlyn huffed. “My brother. Rory.”

  A gorgeous man with short dark brown hair and bright blue eyes was shining his killer smile on a leggy brunette who was in the process of erasing any space between their bodies. Glancing back at Caitlyn, she nodded slowly. “Damn. I didn’t know Sandy was hung up on anyone.”

  “I think she pretends she’s not, but she and Rory have danced around each other for months. I tried asking her about it, but she shot me down quickly.” Bekki sipped more wine and shrugged. “I wondered if they had hooked up sometime, but I don’t want to make it awkward for her, so I stay quiet.”

  Caitlyn checked her phone and said, “I hate to run, but it’s later than I thought. I’ve got to be at the high school tomorrow morning to chaperone an event, so I need to get home.”

  “I’ll say good night also.” Bekki slid from her stool and looked at Kimberly. “Are you staying?”

  “Nah, I’ll head out also. I just need to hit the ladies’ room before I leave, so I’ll say goodbye now.”

  The friends hugged, then separated, paying their tabs. As Caitlyn and Bekki weaved their way to the front door, Kimberly shifted through the crowd toward the hall at the end of the bar leading to the bathrooms.

  Exiting a few minutes later, she sighed at the mass of bodies between her and the door. Seating was such a great equalizer… the height difference between her and her friends was not so noticeable. But, standing, she did not doubt that statuesque Bekki would have been able to easily see, and even Caitlyn, who was shorter than Bekki, would have had no problem. Sandy was petite, but with her long yellow-blonde hair and cheerleader smile acting as Moses’ staff, the crowd would part for her.

  Me? Not so much. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes as she came upon a group of men standing at the end of the bar completely blocking her exit. As she attempted to skirt around the gathering, one of the men moved slightly and trapped her with the bar on one side, his back directly in front of her, and more people pushing t
oward the bathrooms on the other side.

  The man directly in front of her had longish hair, haphazardly brushed back as though it had only been finger combed after a shower. Easily a foot taller than her, she hesitantly placed her hand on his back, cautious about touching someone. “Excuse me. Can I get by?”

  At her touch, he jolted and twisted around, but not before her fingertips felt the hard muscle underneath his shirt. Snatching her hand back, her gaze shot up to his deep blue eyes as he pierced her with his stare.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t get by.”

  His intense gaze softened, and his lips curved into a smile. From the front, she could see that his long hair was truly just swept back from his face. Tattoos snaked down his muscular arms and peeked from the top of his shirt. He was unshaven, his facial hair caught between scruff and a beard. His nose was straight, his mouth perfectly formed, but it was his blue eyes that held her captive.

  His brow lowered and she blinked, realizing he’d spoken, but her appreciation of his physical attributes had caused her to blank out. Sucking in a quick breath, she hoped the somewhat dim lights of the bar would keep her blush from flaming.

  “I said that I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realize I was blocking the way.”

  His voice was smooth and clear, not a hint of inebriation. An almost-empty beer bottle dangled in his grasp, but it was either early in his evening or he held his alcohol well. He shifted to the side, placing his back against another man to clear the way for her.

  Offering a smile, she nodded her appreciation and began to slide by when she was jostled by someone forcing their way through the crowd coming from the restroom hall. Bumped from behind, she slammed into the man and she emitted a squeak as his hands snapped out to catch her by the arms, keeping her from going down onto the floor.

  As he steadied her on her feet, she was sure the dim lights could no longer hide her blush. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she gushed. “I’m kind of a klutz.”

  “No apology necessary. It was that asshole’s fault. Are you okay?”

  He lowered his head so that he was closer to her, but all that did was bring his mouth closer to hers. Forcing her eyes away from his mouth, she nodded. “Yes, yes. It was nothing.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she nodded, shocking herself. Rarely impulsive, and never when alone in a bar, it was his voice that drew her in. That—and his smile. And eyes. And muscles. Blinking, she tried to force her mouth to work when her brain was once again categorizing his attributes. “Okay, um… sure. I was getting ready to leave since my friends have left, but I’ve only had one glass of wine.”

  “Red or white, or do you have a preference?”

  “White. I could try to impress you and pick a label, but I’ll just take a house white.”

  He gazed over her head—which wasn’t hard with his height—and called toward the bartender. “House white.” His smile widened and he stepped closer, just enough so that she could hear him clearly without feeling too crowded. “You don’t have to do a thing to impress me. Just one look at you, Green Eyes, and I’m honored you let me buy you a drink.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Kind of a cheesy line, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but is it working?”

  “I’ll tell you after my drink.”

  He reached past her shoulder and picked up the wine glass from the bar. Handing it to her, he shifted his body once more, providing a protective barrier against the jostling crowd. “Then I’ll just have to keep coming up with cheesy lines, hoping that one of them impresses you.”

  Taking a sip, she smiled toward her wine glass. His body radiated warmth, and she was surprised she didn’t feel crowded. Somehow, he managed to stand close, his attention focused directly on her, and yet, she knew that if she told him to back off, he would. Taking another sip, it struck her—telling him to back off was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Kyle had not been in the Celtic Cock long when he caught a glimpse of his sister, Caitlyn, and Bekki King as they were leaving. Giving quick hugs, he promised Caitlyn he’d make it to the family lunch on Sunday, knowing their mom would grumble if he didn’t. Having maneuvered his way back to his friends, he’d managed to squeeze into the group next to the bar. Just finishing his first beer, he waited for a lull in their conversation to tell his friends he was ready to head home when a soft touch landed on his back.

  He instantly stiffened and jerked around, his gaze dropping as it landed on a beautiful pair of green eyes. Normally one to take in the whole package all at once, he found himself mesmerized until he noticed her gaze shifting over his body. Grinning, he took the opportunity to do the same with her.

  Long honey-blonde hair hung about her shoulders. Her complexion was flawless, pale with rosy cheeks. A tiny mole was just to the side of her right eye, not distracting from her looks in the least but drawing his gaze back to her beautiful green eyes. Petite, she only came to his shoulders. He was not often attracted to short girls, and yet, with her sweet curves, gentle smile, and entrancing eyes, he couldn’t look away.

  She had wanted to get past him, but his brain locked on how to keep her there when chance stepped in and he rescued her from a fall. He offered to buy her a drink, almost certain that she would turn him down. When she accepted, the shock that ran through her eyes indicated her acquiescence was a surprise to her as much as him. Hoping to drown out the noise, he turned his back on the crowd and leaned closer. He threw out a cheesy line, thrilled when her laughter met his ears.

  As she sipped her wine, his gaze left her face only to scan the bar, but there were no empty seats he could offer her. Bringing his attention back to her, he watched her sigh and place her wine glass back on the bar.

  “Thank you for the drink.” Her voice was cool, surprising him at her about-face, uncertain what brought it on.

  “Don’t you want to finish it? I was hoping to find a seat I could offer you, but it looks like they’re all taken.”

  She blinked and tilted her head to the side. “Oh. I thought you were looking for… well, um… I thought your attention was diverted.”

  Brows lifted, he shook his head. “You thought I was stringing you along but keeping an eye out for someone else?”

  “Something like that,” she murmured, her gaze dropping.

  He pressed the glass of wine back into her hand and leaned closer. “I assure you, Green Eyes, you have my undivided attention.” The man sitting closest to her moved and she was jostled from behind. Kyle’s hand snapped out to give the man a push back, then realized he was leaving. As he and his date slid from their seats, Kyle shifted his body forward to keep anyone else from moving in. Inclining his head, he asked, “Can I convince you to sit with me?”

  His breath halted when she smiled her reply, and he placed his hand on her back as she stepped on the bar rail to heft her delicious ass onto the stool at the end of the bar. Thrilled she had taken that seat, he sat in the one next to her, and with his back to the crowd was able to focus all his attention on her. “At the risk of offering another cheesy line, I don’t remember seeing you in here before.”

  Her smile widened and she shook her head. “I like the Celtic Cock, but I’m not crazy about crowds. When I get with my friends, I like to be able to hear what they’re saying.”

  “And your friends have left?”

  “I already had a drink with them. I was getting ready to leave when someone was blocking my path.”

  “The gentleman in me wants to apologize again for being in your way. But the truth is, right now, I’m thrilled you’re having a drink with me, however that came to be.”

  She laughed, her eyes bright as they held his gaze, and she slowly shook her head.

  Throwing his hands up, he said, “Damn, you’re calling out all of my cheesy lines. You’re never gonna believe this, but they’re not lines. Or at least I don’t mean them to be lines.” She had captured his complete attention, and h
e couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Years earlier, his trips to the Celtic Cock would have ended in a tumble after a very quick drink. Back then, he looked for pretty and easy. With a few years under his belt, easy was no longer particularly interesting.

  She turned her attention toward him, and he felt that she was peering deep inside. Being at the end of her scrutiny was a little unnerving, but he was curious about what she saw. Before he had a chance to ask, she set her wine glass down between them and asked, “Besides tossing out lines to ladies at bars, what do you do?”

  “I’m a cop.” He threw out the short answer and waited, knowing what her reaction would be. Wide eyes. Maybe even a little squeal or an ‘ooh’. And then, of course, the inevitable quip about his handcuffs and what she’d like him to do with them.

  She nodded politely and took another sip of wine, saying nothing.

  While he wasn’t looking for easy, it was a little disconcerting that she seemed to not react to his job. Elaborating, he said, “In truth, I’m a detective.”

  Once again, she smiled and nodded. “Do you like your job?”

  Rearing back slightly in surprise, he opened his mouth then snapped it shut, lowering his brows. “Like it? Yeah. I mean, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.”

  “Are you called by a desire to serve or by the excitement?”

  “Are you analyzing me?”

  He watched as the color in her cheeks deepened, and she scrunched her nose. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to. I was just curious.”

  “So, what do you do?”

  Her top teeth landed on her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her perfect mouth. “I’m a writer.” Scrunching her nose again, she said, “Mostly, I work in marketing, which isn’t very interesting to me. But, part-time, I’m a writer, and that’s what I really want to be.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been curious about what a woman did for a living and was so jaded with the reactions to his career that she caught him off-guard. A roar from the crowd in the back drowned out the rest of her response. Shit… the Celtic Cock was not conducive to conversation with a game on the large screen TV in the back corner, and the shouts from the crowd had only become louder. He’d had several people bump into him and was glad that she was in the seat closest to the wall so that she was not being continually jostled.