I Knocked Him Out (Love at First Crime Book 2)

by Jessica Frances

  “And what does that mean?” I tiredly ask. I felt refreshed when we first sat down. Now I’m exhausted again.

  “It means I like you, Sash.” He makes sure to look me in the eyes as he continues. “I think you like me, too. Sure, we drive each other crazy, but I don’t think that should be a mark in the negative column if we were making a list. I think we owe it to each other to see if there is something more here.” I see his determination and hear the pleading in his voice.

  He thinks there is something between us? He wants to give us a shot?

  Have I walked into some weird time warp or alternate universe?

  “Do I get a say in that?” I ask, not sure if I have an answer in me, anyway.

  What would I say? Do I want this? Is this just an epic train wreck waiting to happen?

  “You do, but I already know you will say yes.” He steps closer to me now, swinging me around in my stool so I’m facing him. There is something about this position, something about having him look down at me while standing between my legs that feels hot, feels sexy.

  Then again, maybe it’s this new confidence and attitude he’s giving me.

  He’s never spoken to me this way before.

  “Oh, you know that, do you? And how do you know I will say yes?”

  “Because you gave me the best kiss I’ve ever had. Because you were so pissed off that some asshole took a shot at my sexual competence that you were prepared to jump on a bed, moaning all night, to prove him wrong. Because you came on my leg and with the most beautiful, sexy moan on your lips that I shot in my pants more from that than because your hot hand was rubbing over me. Because what we have is fireworks, and we both owe it to ourselves to at least see if that can lead to something more.”

  I hate how he just went from making me unsure to completely turned on in a matter of moments.

  “This is crazy,” I murmur breathlessly.

  “I know, but if we’re going to do this, or at least think about doing this, then it has to be now.”

  “N-now?” I splutter, my mouth drying uncomfortably as I try to gather my wits. “Why now? Why are you acting like this is so urgent?”

  “Because I saw that look Zander gave us. He looked about ready to murder me, which means fuck knows what we did at their reception. I assume we didn’t exactly keep things between us quiet. Either one of us said something, or did something. Whatever happened, he knows.”

  “Cynthia saw us kissing, and she was quick to tell Ava, so it might not have been anything at the wedding,” I disagree, hoping like hell we didn’t make a scene together. If we made fools of ourselves, someone would have mentioned that to us this morning.

  “Trust me; Zander went from having tears in his eyes as he expressed how much my friendship meant to him while we were having our toasts, to giving me daggers at the airport. If he didn’t have a plane to catch and his son in his arms, I’m pretty sure there would have been words.”

  “You’re overthinking this,” I argue. Zander might be surprised about a potential Declan and me, but not angry.

  “You’re like a sister to him, Sash. He might have tolerated me when I made you mad, knowing it wasn’t coming from a bad place, but he also knew I would lay down my life for you.”

  I gape at his calmly spoken declaration, while he doesn’t even seem surprised by his own words.

  “But us fucking? Having a relationship? No way. Protective brother times a million will come out to play then.”

  “I might be like a sister to Zander, but you’re definitely like a brother to him,” I point out.

  “He doesn’t feel protective over me, though.”

  “That’s sexist. Just because I’m a woman, I need protecting? What if I’m a bitch? What if I break your heart?”

  “It won’t matter to him,” Declan explains on a shake of his head. “If I am going to claim you as my woman, I need to be willing to take what happens.”

  “More sexist bullshit. You can’t claim a human being, Dec. Don’t make me hit you,” I snap. I would never ever admit it to another living soul, but the heat in his eyes and his declaration that I would be his woman is rather hot.

  “Sash,” he sighs, reaching forward and gripping my hand. “I know I’m not perfect, and I know this is mad, but a big part of me is wondering if I’ve been blind to what has been right in front of me all along. And I know I’ll kick myself if I never get the chance to see. We wait, and then Zander is back, we have an overprotective brother with a loaded shotgun breathing down our necks. I can tell you now that’s not going to help us figure out what is going on between us. So, give me these couple of weeks to see what happens without him around.”

  I consider his words, filled mostly with warmth.

  “Can you make it more of a question rather than a demand?”

  He sighs dramatically, trying to look put out, but it is ruined by the twitching of his lips. “Sasha, say yes to dating me for these upcoming two weeks, and let’s see if we have something between us.”

  “That still didn’t sound like a question,” I tease, though I’m not wrong.

  “Sasha!” he growls.

  “Okay, fine, yes.” I sound exasperated, yet I can’t help smiling. Of course it only takes a few seconds for Declan to ruin it.

  “And, for these upcoming weeks at the very least, we can’t have sex.” Even he looks as though the words taste sour coming out of his mouth.

  “Say what?” I gasp. Not in a million years did I think those words would come out of his mouth. I would be less surprised if Joey were to tell me he was getting married and settling down with Kay right now.

  “Sex complicates things,” Declan explains with a grimace. “If we had a few months, then sex would be on the table. But we need to know we’re compatible without sex now. I somehow doubt we’ll have any issues in that department.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Now I’m the one growling.

  “It’s just a couple weeks, for sure, while we don’t have Zander causing problems. Certainly, you can manage that?” His pleading tone is back.

  I wonder, if I pushed this, how easily he would cave. Then again, Declan is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be.

  “Dec, we argue under the easiest circumstances; how do you think we’re going to manage when we’re suffering from being chronically horny?”

  I wince at what I just admitted to him. I should be playing it cool. Instead, I’m basically whining about resisting sex for a couple weeks.

  At least he looks pained, too.

  “Let’s just see if we don’t kill each other,” he says, running his fingers through his hair and causing it to stick out at the sides.

  I sigh again, figuring his logic probably isn’t faulty. Still …

  “Fine. Tell me what you found out about Bowen and those flowers.”

  He exhales loudly and leans his hip against the counter, his body still between my legs. He plays with my hair as he begins to talk.

  “As for ass-wipe, he was born and raised in New York. His parents are dead, and he has three younger sisters. He owns property in New York, Miami, Paris, and Dubai. He has no criminal record, no known criminal associates, and the guy is loaded. He makes your parents look like they belong on welfare.”

  No wonder Mom is super keen on him. Money talks to her, and apparently, his worth is very chatty.

  “That doesn’t really tell us much.”

  “He’s a guy who doesn’t get told no often. He’s an asshole and a bully. That stalker you had in college, Jordan Yorke, was a kid who peed himself when he saw me approaching. I was able to speak to him for five minutes and he never bothered you again. Ass-wipe won’t be like that.”

  “Can you not call him ass-wipe for this? It’s a little distracting,” I plead.

  “Nope,” is Declan’s response, leaving no room for argument. He’s clearly serious about this.

  Righto …

  “So, what do we do, then?”

  “This is where it’s hard.
There were no foreign fingerprints left at your house because, as far as I can tell, no one except the delivery people entered the place. The cash is long gone from the florist who deposited the money in the bank. So, no way to trace the money. The phone number she had was for a burner cell. She said she spoke in person to a woman a week ago who claimed she wanted to surprise her boyfriend, and she specifically asked for them to place the flowers in the house. They’ve done stuff like that before, mostly for proposals and special events. The key to your front door was left under the welcome mat, and they locked up when they left. I swung back around to take a look, and your key is still under there.”

  “I never leave a key under the mat! And other than my own key, the only spare one I have is with Zander!” I snap, angry at what he is telling me, and just as much concerned that someone was able to make a copy of my house key.

  “I know, and I don’t doubt you,” Declan soothes. “This whole thing is fishy. There is no logo on the spare, so no way to trace where it was cut. But with what has happened and with the lack of evidence, there isn’t much that can be done. We’ll get your locks changed, and I can sort out the flowers, but from a police standpoint, this is just one solid dead end. We can file a report, but nothing will get done about it. It’s the lowest of low priorities. They will need to wait for something more substantial to happen to properly investigate this, but I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen. This ends where it started, and no one is getting close to you that you don’t want,” he promises.

  I’m torn between being relieved and happy by his statement, and also annoyed that the police can’t do something about this. I understand that this wasn’t a violent act, but it was still an invasion of my privacy, and the note was creepy.

  “This all happened while ass-wipe was away, so it’s clear he’s using others to do his dirty work, though I don’t doubt he didn’t have a hand in it. Tracing anything to him is going to be tricky.”

  “But you said a woman came in over a week ago? I only just met Bowen.”

  “He was interested in you straight away, and he already knew your parents. It isn’t a stretch to think he didn’t go to that wedding unprepared.”

  I’m not sure what to think of that, especially if it means my parents are possibly pimping me out, so I try not to focus on it for now.

  “What do we do?” I ask again, getting sick of not knowing that answer myself.

  “In these situations, it’s typically a waiting game. If he escalates to something we can prove, then we contact the police and look at pressing charges.” He caresses my neck, but it doesn’t distract me from my anger.

  “So, I just what, live here forever with you?” I sarcastically snap, not angry at Declan but this situation.

  “No, but I think it’s best you stay here for now. At least until he gets the picture. For all we know, ass-wipe will decide a woman who is taken, has a life cemented in Chicago where he currently appears to do zero business, will be too much of a hassle.”

  I fear he might take it more as a challenge.

  “So, we’re just going to do nothing?”

  “Legally, yes. But obviously, we have Jerry on our side. He loves a challenge. I bet screwing with ass-wipe will be a lot of fun.” Declan is smirking now, moving his hands over my shoulders where he kneads them gently. It feels good. I can’t tell if he’s hoping to distract me on purpose or not. Either way, I find myself leaning closer to him while my brain scrambles to recall what we are talking about.

  “Screwing with him, how?”

  “A guy like him thrives on his money. He wants to keep making it. What he doesn’t want is to start losing it. That’s where Jerry can have some fun.”

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” I worry my lip as I think about Jerry. I might have never met him before, but given his vulnerabilities, I can’t help feeling protective over him.

  Declan moves his hands to cup my face, pulling on my chin with his thumb until my lip is released from between my teeth. “Jerry won’t get caught, and he won’t do anything drastic. Just enough to keep Bowen’s mind on other issues.”

  “Okay,” I reluctantly agree. “So, what happens now?” I ask yet again as Declan shifts his hands back to my shoulders and I feel their weight and warmth all over me.

  “As in, right now?” He has a teasing edge to his voice. I wonder how set he is on this whole “no sex” thing. We could both use the release, even if it’s just a stress relief for right now.

  “Well, yeah.” I reach out and finger the buttons on his shirt, wondering what he will look like with it off. I saw Declan shirtless when we were younger on a few of the warmer summer days we had, and just a couple days ago when he answered my panicked knocking at his door, but I haven’t been able to appreciate him under this situation, with desire on my mind and free reign to touch him whenever I please.

  “Right now,” he breaks into my fantasy as he gently grabs my hand and takes it away from his shirt, “I’m going to soak these.” He nods at the dirty plates then immediately shifts away to place them in the sink. “Then I am going to shower and crash. I still feel a little hungover, and I think sleep is what I need now. You can do whatever you like. I have some books on the shelf.” He nods at a bunch of thrillers and mysteries I noticed earlier. “Or you can watch some TV. I’ve got loads of movies.”

  “Then, tomorrow we will leave a little earlier if you need to grab anything at your place and go into work. Business as usual. I’ll get your spare tire sorted out, and I’ll take you out for lunch. After work, I’ll cook up my famous hot wings.”

  “Got it all figured out, huh?” I try to sound unimpressed, but I am actually a little excited and turned on by Declan’s take-charge attitude. I have never been with a guy who has it all figured out, and never one who volunteered to cook. Still, I will hold back any sort of tick in Declan’s pro column until I taste his cooking.

  “I try to.” When he grins at me, I’m taken aback by how good-looking he is.

  “You know, again, you never actually asked me to lunch or dinner, just demanded.” And again, I’m miffed I’m not at all bothered by this.

  “Are you saying you already have plans for tomorrow?”

  “Well, no,” I reluctantly answer, already feeling as though this will forfeit my argument.

  “Then your answer is yes.” He turns the water off at the sink then turns to face me.

  “That is incredibly cocky.”

  “No talking about my cock for two weeks,” he jokes, giving me a serious frown. “Now, do you need anything before I go grab a shower?”

  How about an invitation to join him?

  “Why don’t you join me in watching a movie? See if we are compatible enough to sit next to each other for a couple hours.” I know I shouldn’t have offered because it is entirely selfish of me. I got to nap all afternoon while Declan spent the entire time working, looking into Bowen for me.

  “Okay, tee up the DVD player, and I’ll be out in a few.”

  When he leaves, I do an embarrassing, excited hop as I move over to his DVD stand and look over his options.

  I have already checked to see if he has any subscriptions on his TV, but apparently, old man Declan hasn’t advanced far enough to move away from DVDs. And I say this while seeing a handful are newly released, so it isn’t like he just has physical copies because that is all you could get going back just a few years ago.

  As I look over my options, I see nothing that sparks my interest. I glance over them again just to be sure and see nothing. Surprise, surprise, they are all action flicks.

  That isn’t a good sign, right? We should at least have some similar tastes. I mean, dinner and a movie is typical date fare. If we can’t even manage that, what hope do we have?

  “Found anything?” Declan asks, rubbing a towel over his hair. I’m momentarily distracted by the movement, and the man himself.

  I have always known Declan is hot. I’m not blind or an idiot. But has he always been this hot? We hav
e showers at the work gym, and I have seen Declan many times just after a shower, yet I have never been so turned on before.

  Is it the fact that I now know what his body is like? What his mouth can do? What he has promised he wants to do and will hopefully do to me in exactly two weeks? Or was I just a blind idiot before?

  “Sash? You okay?” He sounds concerned now.

  I shake my head and glance back at the DVD rack to disguise my obvious desire. “Your taste in movies is shit.”

  “Harsh. Have you even seen any of them?”

  Okay, he might have me there.

  “I’ve not even heard of most of them. Are these straight-to-DVD releases?”

  “Let me show you my favorite.” He reaches around me to grab a case. I don’t see the title, but the cover is just a man who looks to be surfing a huge bullet. “It’s hilarious.”

  He looks so excited to be putting it on that I keep my mouth shut on how low my expectations are.

  “Do you have any popcorn or something to nibble on?” I ask.

  “Nah, I don’t. But we just ate dinner.”

  “You can’t watch a movie without eating something! You didn’t even give me any dessert,” I point out.

  “Don’t eat dessert,” he tells me, having no idea the hugeness of that statement.

  “I’m sorry, but what?” I gape at him, letting him lead me over to the couch where he plops himself down then pulls me until I fall next to him.

  “I don’t eat dessert. Wedding cake? Fine. Birthday cake? Maybe. Otherwise?” He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my back as he tucks me in against the back of the couch while he leans me partly over his chest. I have to admit, this feels kind of nice.

  “That has to be against the law. I’m sure I’ve seen you eating ice cream sometime in my life …” I trail off because, of course I haven’t. Declan and I never do things together where we would share a meal, and if we did, there is no chance we would usually make it to dessert without one of us bailing. “So, no nibbles and no dessert? I’m not sure I will survive this experiment.” I purposely sound dramatic, attempting to hide my actual unease.