Cherry Hill 15 - A Love to Kill For

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  She straightened out her shoulders and was so impressed with the place. She loved it. It was sort of upscale, which was weird for a cottage that basically was on a ranch fifteen minutes from Main Street in town. But it went with her personality. She was professional, a hard worker. She saved money, wasn’t struggling, just liked to keep active and to socialize a bit to challenge her fears. As she walked out of the bedroom she saw Harley by a door at the end of the hallway. He slid his hand along the top as if admiring the decorative molding.

  “You have a knack for carpentry, I see. I love the decorative trim molding. Not too much, but enough to add some upscale sort of prestige to the woodwork.”

  He eyed her over and holy shit, her nipples hardened. She was shocked. No, no, no way would she ever consider another relationship with a soldier. Not happening.

  “Thank you for noticing. Would you like to see the outdoor patio and setup?” he asked.

  “Definitely,” she said and he opened the door. There was a storm door with screens and already she could see the stone patio, and what appeared to be seating and a fire pit. He opened the door, held it for her and her eyes widened. As she walked past him, she brushed by his body, inhaled his cologne and felt the attraction. Then she forced herself to be real. She wasn’t going to fall for a man’s charms and sex appeal. No way, no how.

  “Oh my God, this is incredible.” She walked around the small area, noticing the barbecue and outdoor kitchen, wall seating, the lounge chairs to sunbathe in, a covering for the one seating area and then an open area for the fire pit and outdoor furniture around it. She could imagine Faith and Genesis coming over, and maybe a few other friends and having some drinks, cooking up food, almost like a family. The tears stung her eyes, and she looked out toward the land then to the left and saw the large ranch house, the wraparound porch and it was incredible. Almost like having a home.

  When Harley cleared his throat she turned to look at him, and she quickly wiped away the tear before it fell and then chuckled. “This is incredible. Your vision here is just beyond a rental. This could be a home. It really could be home for me,” she said and her voice cracked. She cleared her throat again, noticing he seemed uncomfortable. “So, how much are you asking for rent?” she asked.

  When he told her, she was shocked.

  “Seriously?” she asked and looked around the place.

  She was stunned and felt that he was undercharging. It made her suspicious. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and he looked right at her top. She realized by doing this, she exposed more of her breasts to him but now that she crossed her arms she didn’t want to uncross them. “Why so cheap?” she asked, squinting up at him. He sure was tall. If she had to guess, he was probably six feet five or six. What did she know? The man was big all over. She got that intimidated sensation again and it annoyed her. She could stand her ground. The new me.

  “I don’t think it’s that cheap. I would love to ask more but considering it’s a ways from town I’m trying to be competitive.”

  “Hmm, makes sense,” she said and then uncrossed her arms and looked around the place.

  “The Sheriff mentioned that you’re renting a place right now.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Is it as big as this?”

  “No, which is why I questioned your price. However, it makes sense about the distance to town and well, your ranch is way out here. I’d have to think about this a little.”

  “You’d be safe out here,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his massive chest and looking a bit annoyed with her. She stared at him. Why was she thinking about the negatives so much and the danger? She needed to stop looking at every man as an abusive asshole.

  She looked at him. At the beard, the dark, yet beautiful eyes, that stern, commanding expression and deep tone of voice. A seasoned look. The man was at least ten years older than her. She was really trying her hardest not to panic. “Military, right?” she asked him, eying him over. He somehow narrowed his eyes even further. He nodded.

  “Figured,” she said and then looked around again and then back at him. She hadn’t expected the annoyed expression. “I’m interested in the place, but I can’t move in for another week, maybe two. If someone else comes along, don’t hold it on my account. I’m still figuring things out.”

  “Yeah, I won’t hold it then,” he replied and gave her an attitude right back.

  Her face flushed. She wasn’t good at being a bitch. It wasn’t her style, but her foot was already in her mouth so she figured she should get out before she said something else stupid. One last glance at the place and she knew it was perfect for her. A place that would make her feel independent, successful in being a survivor, and also better than the dives she’d had to stay in the last year of recovery. Her current place was okay, but not secure. The window locks were broken, the door lock shitty. She needed to say yes and do this. She followed her gut. Something she was trying to get a better grasp of instead of ignoring.

  “I’ll take it, Harley. I don’t want to pass up the opportunity, and I really want to get out of the place I’m at,” she said and then walked closer to the door and checked the knob on it and the additional lock.

  “It isn’t safe?” he asked her.

  She glanced up at him.

  “Oh, it’s okay. Needs a bit of work on security and other things need updating. At the time it was the best option and the only one.”

  “What did you mean security needed updating?” he pushed.

  Damn, he’s likable. I really need to be tougher, less conversational, but it’s hard. I’m not a mean person. I like talking. Maybe because I’m alone so much.

  “Well, the locks on the windows were broken and the door lock was crap. One kick and I could get robbed,” she said and then wiggled the new lock on the front door and tested the deadlock. “This right here is what I should have on my door.”

  “Damn, so when do you want to move in?”

  “I need to make some plans, and I’m starting work at Harper’s tomorrow. I need to speak to my landlord. She and her husband will be disappointed.”

  “Let me guess, an older couple?”

  She smiled. “Yes, and friendly as could be. Anyway, they did help me find a job so I don’t want to upset them and just say that I’m moving out this week. I kind of need to transition. But don’t worry, I can give the deposit so you know I’m serious and all,” she said and then started to open the door the rest of the way.

  “You can give me the deposit when you plan on moving in.”

  “Okay, it’s a deal. Thank you, Harley,” she said and reached her hand out for him to shake, completely forgetting about how it felt earlier when they shook hands. This time it was even stronger and she stared up at him and he didn’t let her hand go.

  He squinted. “So the older couple got you the job at Harper’s?”

  She pulled her hand back and then shook her head. “No, they have sons who own a construction company. I do the accounting work and books for them.”

  “So why the job at Harper’s, too?” he asked as they walked outside and he closed the door.

  “Well, the job with the construction company is part-time and I basically make my own hours. My friends Faith and Genesis work at Harper’s and Harper was in need of bartenders and waitresses, especially after what happened with C.C. and Cherise. So I told her I could come back to work.” She stopped by her jeep. “Well, thanks and we’ll talk soon.”

  “Oh, wait, your number,” he said and pulled out his cell phone. She opened her door to grab hers and when she turned he was right there. She wondered if he checked out her backside as she bent into the jeep, then wondered why that interested her. He was a soldier, and a very wild looking one at that. She got her phone ready. “Okay, what’s your number, Harley? I’ll send you a text to make sure you got my number correctly.”

  He said his number and then she sent him a text and his phone made a noise. He c
hecked it and then smiled. “Okay. Let me add this to my contacts. Thanks again.”

  “No problem,” he said and helped close her door and then appeared as if he inhaled, like he liked the smell of her jeep or something. She started the jeep. He stepped back and she drove down the dirt driveway. As she headed to the street and looked to the right at the beautiful large house and land, she spotted two other men working on a fence. Her stomach felt tight, and she wondered if they were workers or if they lived there, too. Did he have brothers? A series of crazy thoughts went through her head, and then the worry. Brothers, maybe all as big as Harley living next door to her. Soldiers, no less. Jesus, what the hell was she thinking? Maybe this wouldn’t work after all. Oh God, but she loved that place. Could see herself and her friends hanging out, drinking, lighting a fire and making memories. She wanted to make memories. To have a life, mornings to be enthusiastic about waking up to. She wanted happiness and safety. Could this be the chance? It had to be. That cottage was to die for.

  She pulled out her cell and called Faith to tell her all about it. As she placed the call on Bluetooth, Faith asked a thousand questions and also about what Harley looked like.

  “Who cares? He’s your typical military god. Muscles, tattoos, attitude and a beard.”

  “Sounds yummy,” Faith replied. Emerson hadn’t expected the jealous feeling to hit her gut. Like she saw him first. Oh God.

  “You are so full of crap. You talk a big talk but you’re like me and Genesis. We aren’t easy.”

  “No, we sure aren’t. I need to get going, the place is busy. I can’t wait to be working with you tomorrow night. See you at my place in the morning, like ten, okay?”

  “You sure you’ll be alive by that time?” Emerson teased.

  Faith chuckled. “For the sights we’re going to see tomorrow, I will be ready. Don’t you worry.”

  Emerson laughed as she headed back to Benter and hoped she was making a smart decision here. She wanted a home, and that cottage was more than she ever had before or could ask for.

  * * * *

  Harley felt a bit off kilter. That young woman, Emerson, was incredible. She was young, sexy, beautiful and so easy to talk to. He hadn’t spoken to anyone like that in a while. He actually didn’t want her to leave. He noticed the bit of intimidation she had toward him. He could forget sometimes how big he was, and his brothers, too. He was attracted to her and that was the shocker.

  “Hey, how did it go? Another no?” Raven asked as he and Beretta stopped working on the fence.

  He looked at them and picked up one of the pieces to start helping. “Looks like we got a tenant.”

  “What?” Beretta asked, sounding shocked.

  “Seriously, Harley? That’s great. When will they move in and who are they?” he asked.

  Harley looked at them. “Emerson will be moving in within the next two weeks. She’s making some different arrangements with work and with the place she rents now,” he said.

  “A woman? Are you fucking kidding me?” Beretta asked.

  “What? It isn’t a big deal. She seems nice, professional and Kane brought her here so he knows her. She’ll be a good tenant.”

  His brothers were silent.

  “What does she look like?” Raven asked.

  “You’ll see when she moves in. Let’s finish this shit up and start on dinner,” he barked and the conversation was over. He was feeling too many things, and he didn’t like it at all.

  Chapter 3

  “Cut it out.”

  Blake stared at Pete as he pressed close to some blonde who came to the party with some other guys they knew. Only a few minutes before Pete was whispering into Felecia’s ear and even squeezed her ass. Under normal circumstances he would think that was sick, but they weren’t biological brother and sister. There was no blood relation. It still annoyed him because right now Felecia was his, Matt, and Scott’s, not Pete’s. She was twenty-four, and Blake and the team closer to forty. She wasn’t as mature as Emerson though. She was nothing compared to Emerson.

  “I’m telling you that fucking dude is a dick. Why the hell do you even bother to let Pete be involved in shit anymore? He’s going nowhere fast, and always looks up to no good,” Terrence asked him and then took a slug from his bottle of beer.

  “He knows too much, number one and number two, he has the connections to the people we need to get our supplies,” Blake replied.

  “We should just take him the fuck out,” Matt added.

  “I’d do it. Want me to do it?” Scott asked very seriously.

  Blake knew that any of the guys would be willing. He really didn’t need to keep Pete around any longer. Because of Pete, Blake met Emerson. It fucking hurt to think of her. To know he fucked up the way he did. Should have stayed away from trying the new line, but the guy who made the connection, that Blake and his buddies shared the cut with, had some serious power. Blake didn’t want to piss him off. He wasn’t into killing cops, or getting the heat from them.

  “What is Carver doing talking to Felecia?” Scott asked.

  They looked that way and sure enough, Carver was hitting on her. He reached up and caressed her hair from her cheek. Blake felt nothing. Not jealousy, or any kind of protectiveness. No, he only had that for Emerson. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. How he hurt her. How she tasted that night he confronted her after work at the bar. She was so hot, and had a perfect body, perfect everything. She was sweet, committed, and if he took his time then he, Terrence, Matt, and Scott would be with her right now. She would be sitting between them, on one of their laps, hell, in bed by now. He glanced at his watch. It was after midnight. He wondered where she was. What she was up to.

  He watched Scott go over and say something to Carver. Carver raised his hands in the air and Felecia looked annoyed. She didn’t really care about screwing over her own sister. She pretended to be sorry, but the truth was, Felecia was a whore. She screwed other guys. He had been so fucked up that night that when he woke up with her in his bed and his buddies around them he had been shocked and felt sick. He knew he fucked up big time. He also knew that Felecia would rub it in Emerson’s face. There was jealousy there but Emerson was too kind, too sweet to even see it.

  Scott brought Felecia over. “Sit down,” Scott said and practically pushed her into the seat. She didn’t even care that her skirt was too short, her blouse too low. She didn’t have a body like her sister Emerson. It was decent, but nothing like Emerson’s. She wasn’t classy, professional and ladylike. He wanted Emerson back. Maybe he should let his men get rid of Felecia and Pete. Then the four of them could work on getting Emerson back, even if it meant forcing her to come with them while they convinced her she belonged with them, and no other men could have her. With that thought came the fear that Emerson could be with another man. Maybe sleeping with one. A boyfriend? The anger hit his belly.

  Felecia caressed his crotch, right over his cock as she kissed Matt’s neck. Blake locked gazes with Matt, and could tell he wasn’t happy or enjoying it. Terrence and Scott downed their drinks and made sour, disgusted expressions. Looked like they’d all grown tired of Felecia, and maybe Emerson was completely on all their minds.

  “What’s wrong with you guys? You were just jealous of Carver, now I’m here and you don’t want to touch me? What gives?” she asked with attitude.

  “Shut up,” Matt told her and then reached for his beer.

  She went to get up but Matt grabbed her inner thigh and held her down very easily. Felecia was thin, and her recent interest in doing drugs was having its effect on her. They didn’t do drugs, that one night was a mistake. They made money from selling drugs. Not enough to warrant being investigated, just enough to be the runners for those who were silent partners.

  “I don’t understand what it is you want. I can’t just sit here and wait for an order or something. Is this really what you want? An ornament on your sleeve? Some model girlfriend to show off to your friends.”

  “You’re no model,�
� Scott said, straight-faced. She gasped.

  Blake gave a light backhand to her skirt. “You dress like a whore. You need better outfits. Classier ones,” he said and then took another sip from his bottle of beer.

  “What is that supposed to mean? I’ve always dressed this way. You never complained before. In fact, you’ve been pretty happy with these skirts and how I can fuck you in the back of the truck while you’re driving home at night,” she said and eased her palm along Blake’s leg.

  He gripped her wrist so tight she gasped. “You disgust me. You aren’t—” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead he shoved her hand away.

  He looked at Terrence. “She isn’t,” Terence said in agreement. Then he looked at Matt and Scott. They shook their heads and he knew they agreed.

  “I’m not who? Who?” She raised her voice but one look from Blake and she shut up. “You’re the ones who took me to bed that night. You destroyed any possibility of ever getting Emerson in bed with all of you. You did that, not me. You’re done having your fun? It’s been a while since we screwed. I take it you want to move on. Fucking do it then. I can get any guy I want.”

  “Then go,” Blake said, feeling no emotion. He didn’t care, and obviously neither did his team as Matt pulled out her chair with her in it, yanked her up and slapped her ass, sending her on her way. She raged and then stomped out of there. He noticed Carver followed.

  “We should have done that the first night we screwed up,” Scott said, sternly.