“I can see why.”
Red scowled. “Aren’t you supposed to be here to serve and protect? What part of your job does busting my balls fall into?”
Merrick straightened to his full six-foot-four-inch frame and stared down at Red. Most men would cower, but Red stood defiant.
“That would be the part described as serve and protect. Something you might not understand because I’m pretty sure the words respect and honor aren’t part of your vernacular.”
“My what?”
Merrick shook his head. “Look it up. It starts with a V in case you were confused.” That small tornado was growing in size and strength. He was generally an easygoing guy, but he didn’t have much tolerance for people who mistreated women or animals. “Do you want me to spell it out for you?”
“Now who’s being the asshole?” Red asked.
Merrick turned back toward the store. “I’ve been called worse.” He walked inside and straight to the cooler to grab a bottle of water.
“You okay?” The woman behind the counter asked. He hadn’t met her yet because she was a new transplant.
“Yep, just need a cool down.” He twisted the lid from the bottle and gulped.
“Hot from the kiss?”
He stretched his neck from right to left until several vertebrae clicked into place. “It started there but ended with a pain in my ass.”
Her perfectly plucked brows lifted. “I’d say your neck by the way you’re popping it. Turn around so I can see that ass.”
“What’s with you girls these days? First, one kisses me and offers me dinner, and now you’re jockeying to see my backside?”
She laughed. “No worries. I’m not in the market, but there’s nothing wrong with a little window shopping.” On the table in front of her were several pieces of paper. From a distance, it seemed like she was creating a to-do list, but Merrick was trained to pay attention. On the pages were lists all right, but not stuff she needed to do. The one closest to him had the heading “grossest food to eat.” She put a column from A to Z and started with Anchovies.
“You don’t like anchovies? Can’t have a good Caesar salad without them.”
“No small canned or jarred fish for me.”
She didn’t look like the small-town type. She was more Housewives of Orange County meets cast member of Survivor. Definitely out of her element in Aspen Cove, but then again, so was he.
He wiped the bottle’s condensation from his hand on his pants and held it out. “I’m Merrick, by the way, and you’re?”
“I’m JJ … Jewel. I’m Jewel Monroe.”
She was as much of a misfit as he was with her Hollywood looks and witness protection persona. She’d been hiding in Aspen Cove for a few weeks trying to blend in, but Jewel Monroe wasn’t someone that went unnoticed. There was a story to this girl, but he wasn’t sure he had time to figure it out.
“What brings you to Aspen Cove?”
“My Porsche Cayenne.”
Yep, there was a story there, but it would have to wait for another day. This one would need some interrogating. He plopped a five on the counter. She rang up his water and made change. “I’ll catch you later, Jewel.”
“I’ll be here, Merrick. Enjoy your pizza and beer.”
That woman was one to watch. She paid attention, not that the whole scene unfolding in her store didn’t draw it.
Now that he was officially off duty, he needed a beer. Across the street and a few doors down was Bishop’s Brewhouse. On his way, he stopped at his truck and took off his khaki uniform shirt, trading it for a navy-blue polo. He figured he had enough time to drink a beer before heading home for a quick shower.
He entered and found Doc sitting at the bar. He’d taken a liking to the older man who passed out advice like a therapist—one who didn’t charge hundreds for each session.
“Merrick, my son. How are you settling in?”
His reference to the word son always made Merrick feel welcome. His father had abandoned them when he was five, which forced Merrick to grow up fast. He always felt responsible for his mother and sister.
“I’ve made the move and adjusted without much trouble.” He was happy to be out of the city. Denver had grown big, and the problems too many.
“We’re happy to have you here in our tiny town.”
Cannon walked in from the back room and grinned. “I hear you’ve got a hot date tonight.”
Merrick rolled his eyes. “News travels faster here than a bank robber’s getaway car.” He pointed to Doc’s half-full mug and raised a finger. “I’ll have one of those, please.”
Cannon took a frosted mug from below the counter and pulled the tap. “Sage was there when Deanna came into the bakery. She stopped by for one of my grade-A kisses before going home. She mentioned it.” He slid the mug to Merrick.
After a long draw, he licked the foam off his lips. “It all happened so fast. I don’t know how I went from investigating an argument to kissing Deanna and saying yes to a date.”
Doc chuckled. “Listen here, son.”
Cannon reached over and patted Merrick’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re getting a mentoring session. I’ll be in the back if you need me.”
Merrick never had a mentor. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or flustered. One thing was certain, and that was his mother had taught him to be respectful, so if Doc wanted to give him words of wisdom, he’d happily listen.
“I’m all ears, Doc.”
“Let me tell you about the women in this town.” Doc gulped his beer like he needed the alcohol for reinforcement. “They are all strong and independent. They may want a man, but they don’t need one, and if someone has set her eyes on you, then you’re one lucky SOB.”
“I’m not sure she chose me exactly. If I had to guess, I was convenient.”
“Why’d you say yes, then?”
That was a question to ponder. Deanna was pretty with her honey-colored hair and brown eyes, but he met many pretty girls. If he had to take an honest guess, it would be that he didn’t like the vibe he was getting from her. That asshole Red had hurt her feelings, and he had a soft spot for tenderhearted women.
“I wasn’t fond of the way Red was talking to her like she didn’t matter.”
Doc smiled. “Some men don’t ever take the time to really see a woman past her assets. You were looking at her heart and soul first.”
Merrick gulped his beer. “In truth, Doc. I saw her assets too, but they weren’t a motivator.”
Doc scowled, which pulled his mustache down on both corners. “You don’t think she’s pretty?”
He shook his head. “What I mean is, while she’s pretty, I was more concerned with her safety than her sex appeal.”
He ran his finger down the mug, sending the condensation to the bar. “I’m not all up on what’s hot these days. Damn people are piercing their noses, ears, and lips like they didn’t have enough holes. Then there are the ones who color everything from their hair to their skin.” Doc snorted. “A few years ago, one of the bikers waddled into my clinic. And when I say waddled, I mean walking like he’d been on a horse for a week without a break. He whipped off his pants and pointed to his pecker, which was huge. Not naturally huge, but swollen and red and hot. The damn idiot had pierced his penis and got an infection. That thing was worse than getting the clap. The treatment is the same, but holy hell, man, who sticks a barbell on the end of their pecker?”
Merrick rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Is there a lesson to this?”
Doc nodded. “Stick with the holes you were born with. Nature knows best.”
“Got it.” He sipped his beer and watched the last of the foam bubbles burst, leaving behind liquid gold.
“Now back to the women of Aspen Cove. I met my Phyllis here in town when we were youngsters. At that time, I was the fisherman, and she was the trout. I cast my line, and on the hook, I offered my love, commitment, and anything else I had, which wasn’t much more than a prize hog at the time
, but Phyllis was the first love of my life.”
Doc stared off into space as if he was reliving a moment and then shook his head and turned back to Merrick.
“Now, my Agatha is a different story. I’d had a grand love and lost her. I wasn’t looking for anyone, and happy to live out my life in peace. Women don’t bring you peace, son. They bring you everything else from happiness to hurt, but rarely peace. When it came to Agatha, she was the fox, and I was the rabbit. I tried to outrun her, but she was too cunning and too fast. I love that woman differently than Phyllis, but no less. We are in a different phase of our lives, and she’s perfect for me now. Maybe Deanna is who you should be with in this phase of your life.”
Merrick shook his head. If Doc shaved and put on a long red wig and slapped on some lipstick, he sounded just like his mother. She was always trying to fix him up with someone or another. He’d passed thirty-five, and her grandmother’s clock was ticking.
“I’m not ready to put a ring on her finger. I’m just having pizza and beer.”
Doc took a five from his wallet and laid it on top of a napkin riddled with tic-tac-toe. The Os appeared to have won.
“That’s how it all starts. You have a meal and a drink. You lock lips and then bodies. Pretty soon, I’ll be marrying you on Cannon’s dock at sunset. It’s the way it works, my boy.” Doc slid off the barstool and stood still for a minute. He shifted his legs and then his hips. “Old bones need to settle in place before I move them.”
Merrick pulled the five off the napkin and handed it back to Doc. “I’ve got your beer. It’s the least I can do to pay for your timely advice.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed a ten and a five on the counter.
“I didn’t give you advice, son.”
Merrick finished his beer and slid off the stool. “Sure, you did. You told me not to pierce my pecker.”
“I told you more than that.” He shuffled toward the door with Merrick following closely. “Here’s another piece of advice. Bring flowers and wear cologne. Women like that.” He sniffed the air. “If you don’t have any, I’ve got that Old Spice in the pharmacy.”
“I’m good on the cologne. Good advice on the flowers.” He pivoted and headed back to the Corner Store.
“Glad I could help,” Doc called after him. “I’ll be in Bishop’s Brewhouse tomorrow for that next beer you owe me.”
Chapter Three
Deanna rushed around, making sure everything was picked up. She fluffed the pillows on her couch and moved the corner chair to hide the spot where the wood was warped. She didn’t have the budget the others had to refurbish her old worn-out house. As Samantha’s assistant, she made decent money, but she didn’t get the big bucks like the artists did.
Her stipend to move to Aspen Cove was generous, but she prudently put some in savings and took a chunk to help pay for her sister Delia’s divorce. One thing about the Archer women, they were terrible at picking men. Maybe it was because their mother gave them all D names. Deanna was the oldest, followed by Delia, and ending with Demi. Her mother might have been better off calling them Disaster One, Two, and Three since they’d all failed at love.
“This isn’t a real date.” She glanced at Sherman, who curled up at the corner of the couch, looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “I mean, he probably thinks it’s a date, but I’ll set him straight right away.”
Her poodle buried his head behind his paws like he was embarrassed.
“Why are you hiding your face?” She reorganized the books on her coffee table. They were all poetry. Some were about love at its best, but most were about love lost. “I kissed him. Not the kind of little peck you give your mom after Sunday dinner, but the type of kiss that lands you naked between the sheets.”
She fanned her heated face with one of the books and set it on top of the others.
How was it she reacted so strongly to the kiss when she didn’t know the man? That had to be part of the allure. He was like a forbidden fruit. A rich candy truffle she snuck while on a diet.
A look at the clock said time was wasting. She had maybe ten minutes before he arrived. Did she stay in her jeans and T-shirt, or did she change into something nicer?
“This isn’t a date!” Sherman hated it when she raised her voice. It didn’t happen often, and that’s why he got so upset. He jumped from the sofa and piddled on the floor. “Seriously?”
He looked at her with a what-did-you-expect expression.
She hurriedly cleaned up the mess and raced to her bedroom to change. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head. In for a penny, in for a pound.
She chose a green sundress that complimented her eyes and slipped on a pair of sandals. That was all she was doing for this non-date. When she looked in the mirror, she realized she hadn’t touched up her makeup, so she moved toward the bathroom and primped just enough to look decent. That was all she was doing for this event. As she turned to walk out the door, she spritzed on her perfume. Okay, now that’s all she was doing—nothing more.
She preheated the oven to cook the pizza and pulled down her favorite dishes, one’s she’d inherited from her grandmother. There weren’t many opportunities to use them, so her non-date seemed the perfect occasion.
When she heard the sound of a car door closing, her heart took off like a squirrel avoiding an owl. It banked left and right in her chest until it found a steadier pace that didn’t make her head spin.
Sherman was already at the door. Dogs had the most sensitive hearing unless, of course, you were calling them, and then they were deaf.
“Be nice,” she told her stubborn poodle. Sherman didn’t like anyone, especially Red. The poor man had been bitten by her poodle a few times. She had to give him credit, though, because he never gave up trying to pet him. Was that commitment or stupidity? At this point, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was Sherman wasn’t a fan. Maybe that should be her litmus test for dating. If they couldn’t pass the Sherman test, then they were out.
A light tap on the door sent the poodle into a full-on big dog bark. It always cracked her up to see how protective he was for a fifteen-pound ball of fur.
She pointed to his bed. “Go lay down.”
If a dog could look dejected, Sherman did, and he dragged himself slowly to his timeout space.
When she opened the door, she found Merrick standing on her porch with a bottle of wine and a bouquet. Her heart rate picked up its pace again, only this time, it wasn’t running for cover but jumping for joy. This was the first time a man bought her flowers and offered them in person. Red left them on the porch to wither and die.
He looked at his offerings and held them out to her. “For you.”
Was that a blush she saw rise to his cheeks?
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She took the flowers and wine and stood to the side. “Come in.” As he passed through the door, she got a glimpse of her overgrown front yard. “I hope you didn’t have trouble finding the front door. I wish I could grow something other than weeds. I fear it might be years before my house looks presentable.”
“Houses take time … and money.” He glanced at his shoes. “Would you like me to take them off?”
A laugh bubbled up inside her. “No, there’s nothing you can do to damage this floor that the last 80 years of residents haven’t done already. My place is an eyesore, but I’m working on it.”
She looked at her house through a stranger’s eyes. It was a dump, but a warm, inviting one with overstuffed furniture that hugged her body each night she tucked into her favorite chair to read a book.
He stepped inside and looked around. “I love these old houses. What do you think they’d say if they had a voice?”
She closed the door behind him and moved toward the galley kitchen.
“Mine would say, Sucker. I love them too, but old homes are a money pit.”
“Don’t I know it. Luckily for me, I bought mine from Wes, and he gave me a remodeling allowance.”
“I’m jealous. I pur
chased mine from Mason Van der Veen, and he offered me nothing.” She pulled out a jelly jar, from beneath the counter, for the flowers. “Thank you for these. They’re beautiful.”
“My mom taught me never to go anywhere empty-handed.”
He leaned against the counter while she trimmed the stems and placed them in the water.
“I got the same lesson. It was part of a trilogy that went something like, Never show up anywhere empty-handed. Kindness is key. And your attitude is always a choice. My mom was a Gandhi of her time.” Happy with how the flowers looked, she walked them to the table and set them in the center. “Let me pop the pizza in the oven. Make yourself at home.” She pulled out a chair for him. “Beer or the wine you brought?”
“I’ll take a beer, please. Not sure about the wine. It was something new Jewel added to her lineup at the Corner Store. I picked it up with the flowers.”
Deanna pulled Dalton’s take-and-bake pizza from her refrigerator and placed it on a stone. She was a sucker for home parties. She had entire collections of Pampered Chef, Scentsy, and Tupperware. She was sure there was a rehab for home-party shoppers and she probably needed a thirty-day stint at one.
“What do you think about her?”
The chair creaked when he sat. She hoped that his big frame didn’t snap the legs.
“Jewel?”
“Yes, I hear she’s new in town too. There are a lot of us newbies.”
“I haven’t had a chance to get to know her. It seems like an odd career choice for a woman who drives a Porsche, but who am I to judge. I moved here too.”
Once the pizza was in the oven, she took two beers from the refrigerator and joined him at the table.
“Why did you move to Aspen Cove?” She failed to twist the top off and handed him the bottles. “Would you mind?”
His muscles barely flexed as he uncapped the beers and handed one back to her. “Cheers,” he said. “Here’s to our first date.”
Oh, hell. He did think this was a date.
“About that. I feel like I duped you into this dinner.”
He took a sip of his beer. When he put the bottle down, he looked at her with eyes that seemed to sparkle with delight. “I realize it was unorthodox, but hey, it works.” The corners of his lips turned up into a grin. “If it all works out, I can have a ring on your finger by next week.”
One Hundred Mistakes: An Aspen Cove Romance Book 16 Page 2
