by Jody Holford
Damon smiled. “I’m good, love. You?”
“I’m great. Oh, where are my manners? I’m sorry. Taylor, this is Damon. He’s the new musician we have playing every couple of weeks. Before he makes the big time. Damon, this is Taylor, a friend of ours. Her family owns the inn on the bluff.”
Damon came off his stool to shake Taylor’s hand, and Declan caught Sophia’s eye. He saw the mischief in it and tried to communicate his concern with setting up someone he considered a good friend with a musician. They had reputations for a reason. He frowned. You had your own reputation and can’t play any instruments. He was being judgmental. When the hell had he gotten so protective?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Taylor,” Damon said. His voice was smooth, and Declan listened closely for any signs of the guy being a player. Maybe he had a couple of slick lines at the ready.
“You, too. What kind of music do you play?” Taylor fidgeted with her glass.
“I do covers of almost every kind, but I tend toward a folksy rock vibe when I do my own stuff,” he said.
“I’d love to be able to play an instrument. It’s just one of those things I always thought, hey, I should do that, but never did. I admire people who do,” Taylor told him.
“Taylor is a very talented artist. She refinishes furniture and creates beautiful pieces. She also does custom signs and photography,” Sophia added.
“Oh yeah? My mom’s birthday is coming up. You have a card or anything? I’d love to get her something special. Unique,” Damon said.
Declan walked forward, feeling a responsibility to watch out for Taylor. Sophia’s eyes widened, and the kitchen bell signaling an order up rang. Slipping off the chair, she smiled at him. A sultry, sexy, knowing fucking smile.
“Our food is up. Come help me grab it, babe,” Sophia said, her voice soft. She moved out from between Taylor and Damon, who all too happily took her vacated seat.
He met her at the end of the bar, surprised at the way the term of endearment—one he used for her frequently—lit him on fire. Made him feel more possessive and better, more wanted. Like she was staking her own claim.
“I see what you’re doing,” Declan mumbled under his breath, putting his hand to the small of her back.
“Stop shooting big brother eyes at Damon. He’s a sweetheart, and you know it,” Sophia hissed.
“Oh yeah. That guy’s a sweetheart, and he knows it. Which is why he probably gets laid more in a month than—”
Declan bit his lip and looked down at Sophia’s amused gaze.
She put her hands on her hips. “More than? Hmm. Maybe more than a small-town, bar-owning Romeo?”
His heart snagged, like a foot on a rug. He didn’t want her worrying about his past or bringing it up. It was nothing. Just the road that led to her. He cupped her cheek.
“You’re the only one that matters, baby. You know that.”
She leaned into his palm and covered his hand with hers, then pressed a kiss to his skin.
“I do. And it’s the same for me. If that can be true for us, then let it be true for others as well.”
“Adam was right, women in love always want everyone else to be in love, too,” he said. He shook his head, about to turn and grab the food orders when he caught the look in her eye and replayed his words in his head.
Shit. Had he just painted her into a corner? Why had he said that? Assumed that.
“I didn’t mean… I just meant…shit. I should have said lust. Or like. Whatever. Get that scared look off your face, Sophia. Don’t even think of running.” A little piece of him—tucked deep down in the hollows of his chest—worried that one day, she’d up and go again, and this time, she’d take his heart.
Sophia stepped into him. “I’m not running. Ever again, so don’t accuse me of that.” The front of her body molded against his, and from the corner of his eye, he saw his line cooks smirk and back up to give them the illusion of privacy.
“And I’m not scared. Well, maybe a little. But no more than you. So, we can be scared together.”
He couldn’t think with her touching him like that, but he recognized the challenge in her tone. He wasn’t backing down. He loved her. Hadn’t really planned on telling her in a crowded bar with a growing number of spectators tuning in to them.
“Say it then,” he goaded so quiet only she could hear.
“You first,” she whispered back, her eyes playful.
“Ladies first.”
“Not this time.” It was the hint of vulnerability in her tone that she couldn’t cover that undid him.
Declan leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, as close to her ear as he could so he could whisper, “I do. And you know it. But I’m not saying it here, with all these people watching. Tonight, when I get you alone is a different story.”
She leaned back and slipped her arms around his neck, and he felt her shuddery breaths. Not caring one bit about giving her what she needed in front of his staff, he held her tight and rubbed his hands up and down her back.
“Uh, boss? You want me to run this food out?” Colton asked.
Declan let go of Sophia, hearing her sniffle, but was glad to see she wasn’t crying.
“I got it. One is Sophe’s,” he said, watching her carefully.
She crinkled her nose adorably, looking like they’d offered her a plate of dirt.
Colton laughed and shook his head. “Dammit. I owe you five bucks.”
Sophia scowled. “For what?” She looked back and forth between him and Declan.
His chef pointed at him. “Dec put a note on your order and said that he’d eat it when you said you didn’t want it and to make you a fruit cup with a side of toast for when you changed your mind.”
“You did not,” she accused.
Declan shrugged, taking both plates while Colton lifted a fresh plate of fruit and toast onto the pass through.
“You think you know everything, Declan James,” she said, taking the plate.
Declan and Colton laughed again as she walked away, back to claim her spot by Taylor.
“Not everything,” he mumbled, following her. He had no idea what to do with everything he was feeling. No idea how to make sure he was enough so she’d never want to up and leave again. But he had a few thoughts on how to cement things between them. Starting tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Declan checked the time again and saw that Ty was close to being an hour late. Pulling out his phone, he texted his bartender again. Ty was never late. He was dependable and prided himself on being a good employee.
The bar started getting busier as Damon set up his gear, getting ready to play. He and Taylor seemed to have hit it off, and Dec heard her say she’d pop back in later tonight.
“I need three rum and coke, two pints, and a martini of all things,” Beth said.
Declan shoved his phone back in his pocket and got to work making the drinks.
They had two waitresses on and one of them could handle the bar long enough for Dec to call Ty and see what was up. He’d sent Sophia home, insisting her wouldn’t be far behind her. The eagerness to be alone with her made his movements and words clipped, short.
He fumbled a highball glass and swore.
“You okay, Boss?” Emily, another new hire, asked.
“Yeah. Slippery fingers. I need to call Ty and see what’s up. You want to hop behind the bar after I fill this order?”
“Of course,” she said.
He had a good staff. He needed to do something to show them how much he appreciated them. Now that Sophia had loosened up his schedule, taking over the day-to-day parts he didn’t like, it gave him more of an opportunity to sit back and watch their performance. The people he had working for him were a big part of what made On Dec popular.
Declan set the drinks on the bar, and Emily smiled as she came to relieve him for five minutes. The hum of Damon’s guitar lit through the speakers, adding to the laughter, chatting, and noise in the pub. Declan walked down t
he hallway toward the office, already dialing Ty’s number.
Another call came through while he was listening to it ring. He didn’t recognize the number but switched over.
“Hello?”
“Dec, it’s Ty.”
“Where the hell are you, man? You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry, dude. Danielle cut her hand bad. I thought I’d have time to take her to the hospital so she could get stitches. We got here, and they stitched her up but then she passed out. They’re running some tests. I was lost in that, man. I’m sorry.”
Declan shut the door to the office with his foot. “Breathe, bud. It’s okay. Take care of your girl. Do what you gotta do. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Stop. You’re where you should be.”
Declan hung up, a heavy breath rushing out of his lungs. He was glad Ty was okay, sorry his girlfriend wasn’t, and wondering if he could get Bryce to cover tonight. If not, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to pull a double.
Dialing his other bartender’s number, he left a message and asked him to come in and cover the shift and if he couldn’t, to call back either way.
When he walked back out to the bar, the crowd had increased, people were already swaying on the floor, loving Damon’s music. Sophia was right. The guy was good. He had a folksy, soulful voice that the chicks were all over. But even the guys were tapping their feet.
Emily was fine behind the bar for a minute, so Declan grabbed a tub and did a walk-through to collect empties. He tried to get out on the floor when it was busier so he could say hi to people and make sure everyone was having a good time.
Damon’s pace picked up, and he sang into the microphone. Declan smirked at the way the women literally leaned forward like they wanted to be closer. Maybe he should have taken up playing an instrument. He wondered if Sophia would find that sexy.
“Wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, standing all alone, turned out it was you, my person to call home,” Damon crooned, and the lyrics crawled into Dec’s brain.
Home. That’s what Sophia was. His home. Making his way back through the crowd, toward the bar, Dec saw the line for bar service was getting longer. Declan dropped the tub of dishes and empties at the waitress station—one of the cooks would come grab it—and went behind the bar.
He moved past Emily who was leaned over the counter talking to a customer. Declan grabbed the order tag from the waitresses’ station and started pouring drinks. Glancing sideways, he saw the lineup behind the guy Emily talked to was getting longer.
A lull in Damon’s music made Emily’s words ring out. “She’s not here,” she said to the guy.
Declan switched spots with Emily, leaning down to ask her to fill the waitress orders. He looked at the guy holding up the line. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for Sophia Strombi. I heard she works here.”
“She’s not here.”
“Know how I can get a hold of her?” the guy asked.
It was the way he asked, like he had the right to “get a hold” of Sophia, that stiffened Declan’s stance. “She works mostly days.”
“Can you give me her number? It’s changed, and I need to talk to her,” he said, looking like he was losing whatever patience he had.
Yeah, that would be a hard no. Things clicked into place, and Declan knew who this was: knew he needed to keep his cool and remember that this man had no place in Sophia’s life. Or her heart. “No.”
The guy leaned forward. “Excuse me?”
“I said no. I don’t give out employee information. Someone who wears a suit as expensive looking as yours ought to know a thing or two about running a business properly.”
The guy flinched but recovered quickly. “I know more than you can imagine about running a business and not some dive like the one you’ve got here. Guess there’s no point in asking for your boss. You the manager or the owner?”
The crowd in line sent glances at Dec, and Emily kept filling orders.
“Both. Sophia’s not here. What’s your name? I’ll tell her you stopped by.” Though not one tiny piece of him was on board with that idea.
“Keith Warrington. Like I said, she’ll want to talk to me. She’s my girlfriend.”
Declan’s vision almost blurred with anger. He clenched his fists at his sides. He wouldn’t start a fight, but he was done. “Like hell she is. She dumped your ass, and if you don’t get it out of my bar in the next five seconds, I’m going to enjoy kicking it out.”
His expression showed surprise for one quick second before he schooled it, and a mean glint shone in his eyes.
“I’d like to see you try. Maybe I’ll even give you the first shot. You look like you could use the advantage.” His eyes narrowed with a predatory challenge.
Time to end things. Declan started from behind the bar and ran straight into Bryce.
“Whoa. Hey, Dec. Got your message. I was already out when you called, so I just came here. I can cover.” He looked back and forth between Keith and Declan, reading the situation with the ease of someone who’d broken up more than one barroom fight. “I can toss this jackass first, if you’d like.”
“No. That pleasure is all mine.” He rounded the bar, and Keith backed up a step. Declan leaned in so the prick could hear him over the music. “I’m going to walk you outside, and then I’m going to explain to you why you’ll stay away from Sophia in the kind of simple language you seem to need.”
The guy glared at him and turned on his high-priced loafer heels and started for the door. Declan followed him out, not caring about the biting cold or the fact that he was in a T-shirt.
Keith whirled the minute they were on the front steps. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I came looking for Sophia, and I intend to find her.”
“Good luck with that, jackass. How’d you know she worked here?” Declan leaned against the cold wood of the door, pretending it wasn’t icy as hell and that he didn’t feel like he was on fire with anger and unease.
Irritation dripped off of the guy’s stance like rain. “Facebook. She’s better than this place.” He looked back at the double wooden doors with an expression of disgust that punched Declan in the gut.
He got the distinct feeling that Keith wasn’t just talking about the pub. Sophia was finally settled. They were in a good place. She was in a good place, and this ass wasn’t taking that away from her. She’d been on her own for too long without anyone taking her back. The urge to pound on the guy warred with the need to just get him the hell out of Brockton. Away from Sophia. She didn’t need any more fucking drama.
“Listen, I appreciate you’re looking out for her, but I need to see her. She’ll want to see me. I don’t know what you think you have going with her, but we have history.”
“Your wife know about that history?”
The guy’s face blanched, but he covered it well. “She told you about me. Whatever. People make mistakes.”
Declan pushed off the door and crowded the guy, who went down one step. Did he mean letting her and her baby go was one of his mistakes? Did he think he could waltz in and smooth things over and Sophia would fall at his feet? This is her baby’s father. His insides tightened to a painful degree.
“Yeah, they do. And yours was coming here. You screwed her over once, and you’re not doing it again. Get into whatever mode of transportation brought you here and get the hell out of Brockton. Forget you ever met Sophia Strombi, because trust me when I say she is not fucking pining away for you. She wants not one thing to do with you, and I intend to make sure you get nowhere near her.”
The door swung open, and a couple, arms and mouths wrapped up in each other, came through, grinning when they saw Dec and Keith on the stairs.
“You guys aren’t driving right, Elroy?” Dec asked, one eye still focused on Keith.
“Nope. Me and Lori walked. All good here, Dec?”
Elroy, a construction work
er who frequented the pub, stopped pawing his girlfriend for a second and focused on the two men standing off.
“We’re good. This guy is just leaving. I’m making sure he doesn’t get lost finding his car.”
“All right then. Night.”
“Night.”
“You can’t keep me from Sophia,” Keith said.
“You did that for yourself, bud. Threw away the best thing you ever had, and there’s no way I’m letting her go.” Declan’s heart was running a marathon in his chest. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this and not to this guy. They were meant to be together, and he’d waited too long to find his perfect match to let it be screwed up by some misplaced sense of loyalty Sophia might have to this guy because of the baby. “I’m warning you, man. I see you again, I will make you sorry you ever looked at her.”
He must have taken Dec at his word because he gave him one last glare and left. Declan’s breath sawed in and out, and his heart refused to calm the fuck down. Shit. Shit. Shit. Would he go? Would he make a nuisance of himself? Would Sophia give him another chance if he was here wanting it? The thought twisted in his chest like a serrated knife.
Shoving both hands into his hair, he forced himself to breathe in and out through his nose. He wanted to punch something. Throw something. He wanted to see Sophia and hold her close, cement this thing between them so he could have some sort of guarantee his world wouldn’t implode. Because no doubt, without her, it would.
For the man who’d never wanted any of this, she’d quickly become his everything. And there was no way in hell he was giving that up without a fight. He pulled out his phone as he went back into the bar and dialed Marcus.
Chapter Thirty
Sophia finished packing up her clothes. She hadn’t brought much from Arizona originally and since she’d been home, hadn’t acquired much more. Imagining herself giving in completely and letting herself believe in the fairy tale Declan was promising made her smile and feel restless. He’d texted a couple hours ago saying Ty got held up so he had to cover. That was fine. She’d come home, puttered around, posted some information online for next week’s Valentine’s event, and then looked around her “home.”