If You Fall (Brimstone #1)

by S. E. Lund

  I complied, reaching into my pocket for my other ID, which I held out for her to see.

  "OK," she said and took my ID, looking it over. "That’s the only exemption.” She frowned at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were DEA? Are you really CEO of a security firm or is that cover?"

  "Like I said, why can’t I be both?” I took back my ID. “I’m impressed that you know your gun laws."

  "I work at a bar,” she said, sounding irritated. “As much as I’d love to carry on where we left off, I have to get back to work."

  She turned and went to the door back into the restaurant. I caught up with her and stood beside the door before she could leave. "I hope this hasn't put a damper on our drink after your shift is finished."

  She stopped and narrowed her eyes. "I like a man with a big…gun," she said and smiled.

  "Oh, sweetheart," I said, a surge of adrenaline going through me that I hadn’t blown it completely. "Then I'm just your type. Beretta M9A1, 8.5 inches from tip to base."

  She laughed out loud at that, then pushed through the door.

  Man, did I like this woman… She could keep up. She could dish it out and take it.

  I wanted her to take it. Every inch.

  “Look,” she said and stopped me, her hand on my chest. “You’re really funny and all, but I really can’t have a drink with you.”

  I sighed, disappointed at her abrupt change of mind. “You know, you kissed me. A man might take that as a woman expressing a certain interest in him.”

  “That was just to see if I could touch your weapon.”

  “You can touch my weapon any time,” I said, grinning, trying to hide my disappointment behind a façade of good humor. “I’ll be really sad if you don’t give me a chance.”

  “I can’t,” she said and shook her head. “Sorry. And I mean that.”

  “Is that Steve guy your boyfriend?”

  “What?” She frowned and shook her head. “No. What gave you that idea? He’s a family friend who works at the bar in the summer.”

  “What gave me that idea is that he definitely sees you as his property and did not like me flirting with you.”

  She shrugged. “He’s just being protective. We’re not dating.”

  “Well,” I said and followed her back to the bar. “He wants to.”

  She harrumphed at that but said nothing more. On my part, I knew the Steve guy wanted her. That much was clear.

  I sat at the bar and sighed, sad that she had agreed to have a drink with me just to check my weapon. I knew she’d be cautious about me now that she knew I was DEA, probably trying to figure out why I had two jobs. I didn’t want to explain my job with the DEA. I wasn’t just an informer who met with a contact now and then to provide any intel. I was an undercover DEA agent. I took the training. I went for periodic exercises on how to do a recovery or takeout of a suspect. I kept my credentials up to date, with weapons training on the range and in the field.

  But my main job was to provide intel on my family’s contacts with the Irish-American mafia.

  I could tell her none of that. Hell, I barely told Graham, except I had to come up with some excuse for the weeks I was away in field training. All I told him was that I was undercover DEA and that now and then, I’d have to take a week off for exercises.

  So while she worked pouring drinks and restocking the bar, I put my earphones on and tried to work out what I’d tell her. I decided that it was best to tell her, well, whatever minimum I had to in order to appease her.

  I listened to some music, watching her while she worked. When she saw that I had my earphones in, she came over.

  "Our music not good enough for you?" she asked.

  "I'm not much into Billboard.” I shrugged, not wanting to insult the music, but it wasn’t my favorite.

  "Let me listen," she said, and reached for one of my earphones.

  I was currently playing some Dylan and was curious how she’d respond.

  "Who is it?" she asked, frowning. Then her eyes brightened. "It's Dylan. ‘Knockin' on Heaven's Door.’"

  That surprised me. Genuinely surprised me. Dylan was retro stuff. "The lady has knowledge about bourbon and music," I said and held a hand over my heart. “Goner.”

  She smiled but avoided meeting my eyes. "My father used to play it." She listened for a time and then nodded. "It's good."

  Finally, I decided to ask her for the phonebook, since I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet the manager or find one in the office.

  "Do you have a phonebook?"

  She nodded and bent down to sort through some things on the shelf under the bar. Then she placed the thin volume on the bar top in front of me.

  "Thank you. I'm looking up someone." I paged through the directory, looking for the section with Scott Lewis’s phone number and address. “Their address wasn’t in the white pages on the internet. I hoped it would be in the local phone book.”

  While she continued to pour drinks, I flipped through the pages of the directory and found what I was looking for. Sure enough, there was an entry for a Scott Lewis, giving an address on Ocean Drive. I entered the address on my phone and then closed up the directory.

  Then I drank down my bourbon.

  “So you’re really not going to have a drink with me?” I asked, making a pouty expression.

  She shook her head softly. “I was just playing you, Mr. Tate. I wanted to check to see if you were really carrying.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said, a well of regret opening up inside me. Damn…

  “I practically need toothpicks to keep my eyes open as it is,” she said and held a hand up in front of a yawn. “I’m going straight home to bed and to sleep. I have a morning shift and will be bartending all day tomorrow.”

  “My loss,” I said, wracking my brain to think of some way to convince her. “What about tomorrow night?” I asked, since I could always stay an extra day.

  She shook her head again, smiling. “Already have plans.”

  I finished my drink and stood up, leaning on the bar so that my face was a few inches from hers.

  “Last chance to reconsider,” I said. “You seemed to really enjoy that kiss.”

  “Like I said, I wanted to see if that was really a gun,” she said with a guilty grin.

  I sighed and gave in, smiling back at her. “Damn, woman. I had my hopes up so high…”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I do appreciate the attention.”

  “That’s something,” I said with a grin. “Well, I’m off, back to my very luxurious and very lonely hotel room. Alone…”

  “Wish I could help you with that, but as I said, I’m not that girl.”

  “My loss.”

  I smiled one last time at her, wishing I could find some way of convincing her that I was not a threat. I was not dangerous. She was so pretty, so smart and funny…

  I left Oceanside, but I decided that I’d go back when I held my staff retreat and I’d make sure I convinced her to have at least one drink with me. I was a tenacious bastard when I had a mind to be and I had a mind to get to know the lovely Mira Parker a bit more.

  A lot more, if she were interested and I had a suspicion she was.

  I went back to my bike and rode off into the dark night, feeling that although I hadn’t succeeded in getting Mira to have a drink with me, we had a nice back and forth between us. A nice vibe. I knew that if I could get her to relax a bit, she and I would have fun together. We both liked to laugh and could take and give it.

  Someone like her was exactly what I needed.

  I went back to my hotel room dejected but not defeated. I took off my clothes and watched the late news. When it was over, I turned off the lights and thought about Miranda Parker. She was beautiful, with her long auburn hair, doe eyes, and those freckles... They gave her this slightly impish look that contrasted with her beauty in a very nice way.

  She was smart. You didn’t do a Master’s degree in forensic science without having a lot of brains. She was fun
ny and spunky. There was a quiet strength to her that suggested she was self-reliant and independent.

  I really liked that in a woman.

  I wanted her.

  God, I wanted her. I hadn’t wanted a woman like that since… since Sue.

  I thought back to our kiss, which was exactly the wrong thing to do if I wanted to get up early in the morning, go for a run, and then head back home. I needed to get at least seven hours of solid rack time.

  So instead of thinking of the beautiful and curvaceous Mira Parker, how good her lips felt on mine, her tongue touching mine during our very deep kiss earlier in the back hallway of Oceanside, I should have been blanking my mind.

  I should have, but memories of her delicious body and mouth would not be chased away by sheer willpower alone. My dick ached from the memory of her body pressed against mine.

  At that moment, I wished that instead of being alone in the dark hotel room with my cock in my own hand, I was with Mira, the lights on so I could watch her.

  Despite knowing down deep that I was making a huge mistake, I wouldn’t give up on Mira Parker.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Miranda

  Of course, I didn’t hear the end of it the next day when I met Leah for lunch after I finished daily cash. I dropped the bank deposit off and walked down the road to the small beach hut we both liked. They served great seafood so I ordered a crab cake and slaw, having not eaten anything since the previous night.

  “You should have at least had a drink with him, Mira,” she said, shaking her head as we took our drinks and meals and sat at a picnic table under an umbrella. The sun was hot and I couldn’t wait to change into my bathing suit and go for a swim in the surf. “From what I could see, he really had the hots for you and was very chivalrous. Steve was so jealous I thought his head would explode.”

  I laughed and waved her off. “Steve isn’t jealous. He’s just being protective. He’s never said or done anything that would give me any other idea. And Beckett was trying to seduce me. Men who want something from you are always very chivalrous.”

  “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t have the hots for him, too. I saw you smiling at him like a girl on her first date.”

  “He was very persistent.”

  She slurped her drink and forked a piece of crab cake. “What did you two talk about? You talked a lot.”

  I shrugged, remembering back to our conversation, trying not to sound too interested. “He’s a veteran. He was in both Afghanistan and Iraq. He’s now in technology. Has a business that develops high tech for the military. That kind of thing…”

  She punched me on the shoulder playfully. “He’s perfect for you! Why on Earth didn’t you at least have a drink with him? God, girl… You’re nuts.” She took a huge bite of her bun and chewed thoughtfully. “I’d have been all over him like white on rice.” She swallowed and slurped down more of her drink. “Why didn’t you bite? Still feel guilty?”

  I raised my shoulder, not wanting to get into it. “I live with Jeanne and Scott. What would they think if I came home with some man I met at the bar? They’d think I was a floozy.”

  “Floozy?” she said in mock-horror. “I’ll have you know I met all my past boyfriends at bars. Am I a floozy? No, don’t answer that,” she said with a huge laugh.

  I grinned but said nothing.

  “Compared to you, we’re all floozies. Two men, Mira? You’ve only been with two men in your life. You need to get out there and sample a few so you know what you like.”

  “I liked Dan,” I said, defensively. “I loved Dan. Dan was amazing.”

  “Of course you did, and he was a beast-God of a man fit to be worshipped and all that,” she replied, her eyes wide. “But now, you gotta move on. You have to start your life again.”

  “I am,” I protested. “I’m moving back to Manhattan. I’m finishing my degree. I’m moving on.”

  “Life means love,” she said. “My nana always said that life is nothing without love. You need to find someone else. Get married. Have a family. The only way you’re going to do that is by taking a chance on someone you don’t know.” She raised her eyebrows. “Am I right?”

  I sighed. “Of course you’re right.”

  “I know,” she said and eyed her crab cake, poking it with her fork. “I’m always right.”

  “Annoyingly right,” I said with a face of pretend-anger.

  “You love me anyway,” she said and chewed, her smile huge.

  “I do,” I said and nodded. I did love Leah.

  She’d kept me from utter despair after Dan was killed. She spent so many nights with me sitting in front of the television watching sad movies, letting me cry and talk about Dan without complaint. She kept me sane at work, talking to me about all the characters who came to the bar. It became a game for us, concocting fabulous tales about the regulars.

  It kept me from losing myself in depression. I was so glad she was returning to Manhattan with me, to finish her degree. She’d been there for the months before I married Dan. She’d been my maid of honor. She was there for me when Dan died.

  She’d be there rooting for me when I returned to Manhattan to John Jay.

  That evening, after a day spent on the beach, Leah and I worked at the bar once more. I was pretty exhausted after pulling a couple of double-shifts that week. Pete, the head bartender, was on vacation before the summer season ended and I left for Manhattan.

  Steve was my assistant for the night and as I fully expected, he started to rib me about Beckett.

  “I hope you went right home last night and didn’t hook up with that hood you were talking to.”

  I frowned and pushed him playfully. “What the heck are you talking about? I went right home. Besides,” I said and knocked the bottle of tequila I was holding down on the top of the bar, “he’s not a hood. He’s the CEO of a company. And it’s none of your business. You’re not my big brother.”

  “You need one,” he said. “You don’t know what men are like, Mira. They’re dogs looking for a bone.”

  I grinned to myself, thinking of a snappy retort like “Maybe I want a bone…” but I held back. Steve seemed so serious and protective. As one of Dan’s old family friends, I knew he was just trying to protect me.

  “Just sayin’,” he said and shook his head, polishing a glass with a fresh cloth. “That guy was trying to hook up with you. I could see it as plain as day.”

  I shrugged and went back to my drink order.

  “Of course he was trying to hook up with me. It happens sometimes,” I said. “I happened to stay no, so don’t worry about me.”

  Just then, Jeanne and Scott came in for dinner, which they did occasionally, to check out the service and make sure the food was up to snuff. I joined them during my break and sat across from them in their booth. They were two lovebirds who always sat side by side, holding hands despite the fact they’d been together for over thirty-five years.

  I sighed to myself as I sipped an ice tea, watching them gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes. I always thought Dan and I would be together for thirty-five years. Instead, I had a couple of years when we dated and then three brief months of married life – such as they were with him deployed to Afghanistan.

  “So, are you excited about going back to school?” Jeanne asked, her eyes bright. “We’ll miss you but you have to start your life again. You and Steve both leaving us. What will we do?”

  “I’ll miss you both,” I said and smiled. “It’ll be hard to leave Topsail Beach. I’ve had some of my happiest days here.” Then I frowned. “I didn’t know Steve was leaving too. Where’s he going? I thought he was still going to bartend on weekends during the school year.”

  “He’s transferring to Columbia. Didn’t he tell you? We thought the two of you were…” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Steve? No!” I said a bit too forcefully, embarrassed that they thought Steve and I were a thing. “We’re just friends. Co-workers. He’s like my big brother.”

&n
bsp; “I know,” Jeanne said and reached out to squeeze my hand with affection. “It’s okay if you find someone new. Dan would want you to finish your degree and get a job. He’d want you to live your life, sweetie. Find someone new.”

  “I will,” I said, almost cringing because of the awkwardness of the conversation.

  Then, they talked about Dan’s memorial coming up in a month. We’d all drive to Arlington and visit Dan’s marker in the memorial, then they’d take me north to Manhattan. Leah and I would get settled into our respective dorms for the year.

  My stomach was filled with butterflies thinking about it but there was a small part of me that felt reluctant to leave Topsail Beach behind, as if doing so meant Dan would be lost to me forever.

  I had to stop thinking like that. I would always have Dan in my memories and in my heart, no matter what.

  Maybe I’d meet someone who could be a substitute. No one could ever replace Dan, but someone might be good enough to stand in for him in my life. Steve was a friend, but I never thought of him like that. He was uptight and always seemed so in need of being right about everything. I was used to Dan’s freewheeling ways.

  Steve was moving to Manhattan and transferring to Columbia? Well, that was sure news to me. He was studying business at UNCW. Sure, he’d said he’d miss me when I went back to Manhattan to finish my degree, but I never thought…

  “A few of the other families will be meeting at Arlington on the 19th, so we can visit,” Scott said.

  I nodded, drawn back into the conversation from my thoughts of Steve. I really didn’t feel like socializing with the other families. It was such an emotional time when Dan died. All the other families were at the joint memorial and I felt as if I couldn’t get a hold of my emotions. Maybe with a year having passed, I might be better able to handle meeting the other families who lost their loved ones that day in the accident.

  A year is a lot of time.

  I smiled at the two of them and drank my ice tea.

  Later, after my shift was finished, I sighed and glanced around the bar, wishing that Beckett had returned and was there to make me smile and engage in some friendly banter. I had fun with him, despite how obvious he was being about trying to pick me up. He was a good sport about it, and didn’t get obnoxious even when I turned him down. He was more resigned and amused. I could tell he enjoyed just talking to me. I had the feeling I would enjoy doing much, much more with him if I’d had the chance.