Restore Me

by J. L. Mac

I get up to my elbow to look at him square on. “I think Versan should know about them. I think if he could read them, he could help you out with all of it. You can’t keep these things forever.”

  He nods in response. I know that he knows I’m right.

  “I’ll take them to him,” he says softly.

  “Promise me?”

  His crooked smile has me melting for him again. I’ve missed that smile so damn much.

  “I promise.”

  ***

  I’ve had my Damon back for a month. One blissful, heavenly, steamy month. We make love every day. We eat nearly every meal together. He’s even been joining in my morning ritual and coming to The Diner with me. Noni gawks and flirts with him every single day. She’s always blushing and smoothing her hair and straightening her apron when she sees us come in. It’s comical as hell.

  His relationships with others have been progressing, as well. He’s been seeing Elise every other week for dinner; they seem to be tolerating each other again. He’s back to work full-time and both Brian and Dr. Versan say he’s doing well. He’s seeing Dr. Versan once a week, and while he doesn’t talk to me about it, he seems a little more peaceful after a session. The store remodel is going well, too. Damon stops in to have lunch with me most days and we talk about all of my ideas. Hopefully everything will be done on schedule and we’ll have a grand reopening in a few weeks.

  “So do you think it’s a good idea?”

  “I do. You’ve said multiple times how great Noni is. She seems like the lady for the job. I think you should go with it.” Damon pats my leg reassuringly as he parks the Volvo in front of The Diner.

  “Awesome.” I was planning on going with Noni anyway, but I love knowing that I have his support in the decision. “Have you thought any more about your mom?” I ask, completely changing the subject.

  He gives me a look that spells exactly what he’s thinking and I back off. Last time I asked, he said he’d think about it; I guess he’s still thinking. I understand that he’s got serious hatred for the woman, but I can’t help thinking that somewhere underneath all that muscled up Big Man exterior is a boy who’s been waiting a terribly long time for his mother to come claim him.

  “Okay, but just know that if you’re still undecided then maybe you could ask Brian his thoughts. What if we asked Elise, Brian, Noni, Dr. Versan, and Grams? We’ll take a poll to see if it’s a good idea.” I shoulder bump him as we walk into The Diner and he shakes his head, dismissing my idea easily. He’s not ready.

  Right on cue, Noni blushes and smoothes her brown hair, straightens her apron, then glides over to us. I’m starting to get nervous about my proposition. What if she thinks I’m nuts?

  “Good morning, Jo, Damon.” Noni turns in Damon’s direction and gives him a little nod with her head. Damon smiles curtly back then turns his attention to the menu on the table.

  “Morning, Noni,” I say as I slide into our usual booth. I don’t bother with the menu. I always get the same thing. Damon however…Big Man likes to sample two or three different breakfast items every morning.

  “You know what I want,” I mutter then look to Damon, who’s still scanning the menu.

  “I want coffee and the Ultimate Sampler, but can I get double bacon and double eggs?” Damon flips the menu shut and gives Noni his signature crooked smile.

  Noni is battling to keep her stupid grin under wraps. She nods and scribbles down our order then heads back to the kitchen.

  I twirl my hair and smile at Damon like a lovesick idiot. I couldn’t care less. I’m definitely one of those “bitches cruising through life” now. I like cruising through life. Things are coming together nicely and I’m one satisfied broad. I still miss Captain and my parents on a daily basis, but Damon is by my side to ease the ache. He senses when I’m in a bad place emotionally. He’s that person that reels me in when I’m treading deep water and tiring quickly. Everyone should have someone, anyone, who can do that for them.

  “Let’s make a bet,” he says out of nowhere.

  I raise my brows. I love a good gamble as much as the next person. “What’s on your mind, Big Man?”

  “Five bucks says you won’t ask her when she comes back over to the table.”

  “Deal. I hope you have a five dollar bill in that designer wallet of yours.” I look over my shoulder and locate Noni. Perfect timing—she’s on her way over, coffee in hand. I extend my arm and lay my hand out in front of him, palm up as I look to Noni.

  “Thanks, Noni. Hey, you wanna run the coffee shop in the store?” I blurt out. I see Damon shaking his head and digging out his wallet in my peripheral vision.

  Noni raises her eyebrows in a mix of surprise and confusion. “What?!”

  For a second, I’m worried she’s going to drop the coffee pot; her hands are shaking that much. “Remember? I told you about adding a coffee shop to the bookstore during the remodel, because serving coffee and muffins and that shit at the store will bring in business?” She nods her head. “Well, I need a barista or whatever they’re called. You’ve been pouring my coffee every morning for years and Damon and I both agree you’re the lady for the job.”

  “Me?” Her chin does this scrunched up quivering thing and the waterworks start. Ah, shit. “I-I would be full time?”

  “Yeah. Store hours.”

  She stops for a minute, a worried crease between her eyes. “Are you sure, Jo? I don’t know anything about running a coffee shop.”

  I reach out to take her hand. “Noni, I don’t know anything about running a coffee shop, either. I trust you, and I figure we can learn the rest together.”

  “I’ll take it!” She beams a smile at me and Damon.

  “Don’t you want to know what the pay is?”

  “Anything is better than here,” she whispers.

  Damon smacks a 50 dollar bill into my hand and shrugs. “You win. Change?”

  “Not a chance, Big Man.” I slip my winnings quickly into my pocket, proud of myself. I just know this is going to work out.

  Noni swipes the moisture from her eyes and lights up the room with a smile I’ve never seen on her face.

  “When can you start?”

  She looks over her shoulder at her boss, Margaret, who’s wiping the counter and chatting with the regulars at the counter. “Margie! I quit.”

  Margaret looks up and rolls her eyes. “You quit every week.” Margaret keeps at her cleaning duties while all three of us laugh at the grumpy waitress’s comment.

  “Stop by the store tomorrow, okay, Noni? We’ll talk about plans then and get you on the payroll and everything.”

  She nods, unable to stop smiling. “Thanks, Jo,” she whispers. “You, too, Damon. You don’t know what this means to me.”

  After my morning ritual with Damon, I drop him at the penthouse to “work” and head to the store. He promises he’s going to be home all day, making calls, and he’ll drop our fur kid at the store if he has to go out. Hemingway doesn’t like to be alone.

  My day passes swiftly and before I know it, my cell phone says it’s ten minutes to five. I head back into my freshly renovated office and gather my things. I smile at Captain’s photo on my desk, kissing my index finger and pressing it to the glass frame.

  “Looking good, huh, Captain?”

  I step out of the office and take a look at the store. New shelving has been installed. The paint is fresh and vibrant. Pendulum lights dots the ceiling, bathing the store in a warm, ambient glow. Plush chairs, exactly like the one in Damon’s library, are scattered randomly. The small coffee bar in the front corner of the store is nearly done. It has a refrigerated glass food case to display whatever the hell we decide to sell; muffins and bagels, I guess. I’ll have to discuss it with Noni. She’s a career waitress, she’ll know what to serve with her coffee. Boxes and boxes of inventory are stacked high, just waiting to fill the shelves. Damon made all of this happen and it still baffles me how I got so damn lucky with a man to love me and support my dream.

&
nbsp; I stop ogling my beautiful store and get ready to leave. I grab my phone, sling my bag over my shoulder and prepare to arm the damn security system. Arming the system is still pretty tricky for me, so I carefully punch in the code and select the “arm” button. It gives me 60 seconds to get my ass out the door before it activates the bells and whistles. I scurry out the front door and lock it with one hand while dialing Damon with the other.

  He answers on the first ring, sounding less than pleased. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey, why the grumpy tone?” I dawdle in front of the store, pacing back and forth in front of the window and admiring the “Opening Soon” sign.

  Damon sighs loudly. “My sister has invited herself over for dinner. She says we have to talk, but if you want, I can get rid of her.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. We have to meet each other at some point, right? I’ll cook something. What do you have a taste for tonight?” I can nearly hear him grin devilishly. Naughty man. “And no, I’m not on the dinner menu. I’m dessert.”

  “Damn right you are. Make that cheese and potato stuff again,” he says, sounding way too excited to be eating my poor man casserole. I’m beginning to think that he has a thing for comfort food; we’ve had macaroni and cheese once a week per his request for the last three or four weeks.

  “You got it, Big Man. See you in a few.”

  “Bye.”

  I hang up and hustle to my car so I can get home. Home. It’s a word that still dazzles me. I have a home and it’s with Damon and Hemingway. I couldn’t possibly want for more.

  ***

  I fish out my keys and unlock my doors with the fancy key fob. I toss in my bag first then go to get in.

  “Jo?”

  I spin around to see who’s called my name. “Andy? What the hell are you doing around here?”

  He chuckles, showing off his straight white teeth. “My apartment is just down there. We’re changing up our route; I think Spot was getting bored with our old route.”

  I look down at his dog and the first thing I notice is that it’s a solid black lab. “You named your black lab Spot?”

  Andy shrugs and looks down. “Lots of dogs are named Spot.”

  I scrunch up my brows and shake my head. “What the hell is it with men and their inability to name their pets?”

  Handy Andy lets out a deep laugh and cocks his head. “And just what would you name him?”

  I squat down and take Spot’s handsome, silky fur face in my hands. His chocolate eyes look back at me calmly. It’s easy to name this one. “Chaucer. Definitely a poetic kind of dog.” I stand and put one hand on my hip, pleased with my choice.

  Andy just laughs, of course. “I think I’ll stick with Spot.”

  I laugh a little, too. “Of course you would.” I smile back at Handy Andy then pat Chaucer/Spot on his satiny black head.

  “See ya, guys.”

  “Yeah, I hope so.”

  I roll my eyes and guffaw at Andy’s bold remark. “Bye, Andy.” I slide across the leather seat and shut the door. Damon won’t be happy with me chatting with Handy Andy. I won’t bother bringing it up; it’ll only make him grumpy, and he’s already in a mood thanks to Elise. This should be an interesting night.

  As the elevator doors chime and slide open, butterflies start flying around in my stomach. His sister already dislikes me. The stupid broad blames me for Damon not talking to her while he was recovering from the overdose. Whatever. I don’t give a shit what she thinks, but for Damon’s sake I’d like to at least like us to tolerate each other. Hell, maybe she and I can even have polite conversation. That’s a novel idea.

  The minute I step into the penthouse, I hear Damon’s deep, booming voice. He’s shouting. Fan-fucking-tastic. I make my way into the living room as quietly as possible. Damon is sitting across from Elise. Her back is to me. Damon’s eyes immediately go to me as I enter the space. I can tell that he’s irritated with her already. Elise follows Damon’s gaze and turns in her seat to see me. She doesn’t look anything like him, and if I didn’t know, I’d never believe they’re siblings. I see she has Grams’ blue eyes, though.

  I smile curtly at her and Damon stands to introduce us. Elise follows suit, standing and making a production of smoothing the wrinkles out of her sleeveless summer dress.

  “Elise, this is my girlfriend, Josephine. Josephine, this is my sister, Elise.”

  I nod and step forward to offer my hand. She takes my hand, but suspicion is written across her pretty, fair features. An awkward silence descends on the room and I leap at the opportunity to escape.

  “Elise, it’s nice to meet you. I’ll get started on dinner and let you two talk.”

  “Oh no. Please sit and talk with us. It seems you have a lot of control over my brother. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

  Excuse me?! I narrow my eyes on the smartass then shift my gaze to Damon. He runs his hands through his already disheveled hair and plops down on the couch.

  “Fine.” I cross the living room to sit beside Damon. It’s no wonder that he doesn’t want to talk to her; she’s a pushy bitch.

  Elise sits primly back on the couch, patting her perfectly coifed blonde hair. “I was just telling Damon that family is important. Even when we don’t necessarily get along, we still have to support each other.”

  “Oh, cut the shit, Elise!” Damon’s deep voice startles she us both. “I’m not shocked that he needs money, he always does. I am shocked that you’re here, doing his bidding.”

  “He’s our dad!” she snaps.

  “So you bail him out.” Damon growls.

  I sit back to watch the shouting match. Having no siblings of my own, this is all very entertaining; especially when they push each other’s buttons.

  “I can’t. Isaac refuses to give him anything.” Elise looks down at her lap, clearly ashamed.

  “Looks like my brother-in-law and I have the same opinion of his drunken ass.”

  “Please, Damon. It sounds like he’s really in deep this time,” she pleas.

  “Did he tell you how much he owes?”

  “Forty-five,” she mumbles.

  I look over at Damon to see his eyebrow shoot up. He feigns amusement and laughs loudly. “Oh, that’s just brilliant. He’s racked up a 45,000 dollar bill with some loan shark or a bookie that’s likely been squeezing him for weeks to pay up. Jackass. Well, I won’t help him. He’s going to have to take his beating like a man and figure out how to pay the guy.”

  “What if they kill him?” Elise screams as she leans forward. “You can buy some cheap slut a new car and some stupid store but you won’t help your own father?”

  It’s my turn to look surprised and I am. She has balls, I’ll give her that much, but insulting me in front of my face? After she asked me to stay and talk with them?!

  Damon jumps to his feet. His chest heaves in and out. His cheeks burn red. “Josephine means more to me than he ever will. I’d rather throw away every cent I’ve ever earned than give anything to that man. That’s the one and only time you’ll ever talk about the woman I love that way. Do it again and you’ll be dead to me. Now get out,” he roars.

  I smile at his endearing defense of me. My Big Man can be quite intimidating.

  “Damon—” she protests.

  “Out!” he bellows, jabbing a finger towards the door.

  Elise’s head snaps back like she’s been smacked. She heads for the door and I almost feel bad for her. It’s clear that she knows nothing about Damon’s relationship with Edward, what he has endured at the hands of his father. Damon told me himself that no one knows. Just me and Versan; though I imagine Grams has an inkling. I step in front of him and lay my palms on his chest. His heart is racing. He needs to forget all of this bullshit. We may be skipping right to dessert tonight.

  ***

  “Look at me.” I cup his jaw in my hands and guide his attention from the door to me.

  He resists and I get up on my tip toes and kiss him with everything I’ve
got. He needs to relieve some stress and I’ll do just that. He groans as I slip my tongue into his mouth and explore his skillful tongue. I pull away from him just a fraction, so I can look in his eyes. “Dessert is ready,” I mumble against his lips.

  “Read my fucking mind,” he grumbles then bends over, grabs me around the waist and tosses me over his shoulder. I laugh and smack his ass playfully as I dangle down his back. My brown waves sway with each step he makes. He lugs me towards the kitchen. I’ve been his appetizer in here one time. It’s only proper that I be his dessert, too.

  He squats down and gently sets me to my feet. He kneels down in front of me on one knee and looks up. My heart stops for a moment when I realize how incredible he looks in front of me on bended knee. He knows exactly what he’s doing, too, because he smirks mischievously. Asshole.

  “Not today, Josephine,” he says with a smirk, lifting one of my feet and sliding off the wedge heel. He drops one sweet kiss on the inside of my ankle then puts my foot back to the ground. He lifts my other foot and repeats the sensual gesture, removing my shoe then kissing my ankle.

  I’m thankful he isn’t watching my cheeks burn red with embarrassment. I’m sure he saw the look on my face. The image of him on one knee is now burned into my brain and has me thinking all sorts of things. I’m quickly distracted as he slides his hands under my cotton dress and up my legs, those big hands of his snaking around to cup my ass. He leans in and rests his head against my stomach for a moment. I can see his lashes flutter closed. I feel so worshipped. So cherished.

  His fingers curl and hook into my damp lace thong, guiding it down my thighs to my feet. I step out of them. Damon shoves them aside on the kitchen floor. He gets to his feet then grips my hips to lift me. I’m propped up on the countertop, waiting. He smiles devilishly and steps over to the refrigerator. With the door open, I can’t see what the hell he’s digging for. The door closes and Damon holds up his prize.

  “Strawberries a la Josephine, my new favorite dessert.”

  My stomach flips then coils. I don’t know what he plans on doing with those strawberries but I have a distinct feeling that I’m going to like it. A lot.