She began to pull back but stopped when his body started shaking. “Hector?”
He was laughing, a full-out belly laugh, and she felt every shudder in his body as he did it.
Wow.
It felt really nice to be held by someone laughing.
Unless…was he laughing at her?
This time, she sounded a little afraid and wished she could have kept a steadier voice. “Hector?”
He leaned his laughing lips against her neck and pressed a wet kiss there.
Wow. That felt good, too.
He leaned back a little, his hands roaming up her back and holding her head in place. “I like it when you’re honest with me.”
Apparently, he equated her idiotic rambling with honesty. “Okay.”
He brought her head closer. “And I really like the way you don’t care that I’ve got a stump.”
“Of course I don’t.”
His grin widened into a smile, bringing the dimples into full force. Those dimples should be considered lethal weapons. They had the ability to put her, at least, into a dimple-hazed trance where she did whatever he asked.
“Kiss me, babe.”
“Okay.”
See? Dimple-hazed trance.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his and, as he usually did, he took over. He angled her head just so and she opened her mouth to him. God, he tasted so good. Was a kiss supposed to taste good? She’d never thought so until she’d kissed him.
After a few moments, he drew back. “I’d love to keep you right here, but we’ve got to get back to work.”
She’d completely forgotten the pub full of people, cops, and royalty just outside the door.
She jumped from his lap. “Sorry! I’ll go and—”
“Stay. Let me just put myself together again and we’ll walk out together.”
She was an idiot. Maybe he needed help walking and didn’t want to say he needed help. “Of course. Is there, um, anything I can do?”
He shook his head and adjusted his stump again. “I’m halfway there.”
“Oh.”
He grinned, then started gesturing and explaining. “Before you distracted me being cute, I’d just put on this liner.”
She was still cute! “Liner?”
He nodded. “It’s silicone. It has this metal pin on the end, which connects to the prosthetic. Before I put it on, though, I put on these socks. They go over the liner.”
Oh. She hadn’t even noticed there was a hole in them, to go over the pin.
“My leg’s shrinking. That’s normal, but it sucks. Putting on socks makes the prosthetic fit better. I might need to use more socks down the line, until my new legs come in, but two is enough right now.”
He picked up the prosthetic and slid it over the sock. Then he stood and seemed to be putting his weight on that leg, then shifting back and forth between legs. He winced a couple times but, eventually, she heard a click.
“And that means the pin on the liner has locked—or started to lock—with the socket in the prosthetic. It’ll click more as I walk until it settles.” He took a few steps around the desk and she heard more clicking. Eventually, that stopped, too.
“I think I’m good.” He held out a hand to her.
She looked at it for a second before she took it.
He pulled her against him. “Do you have any questions about my legs?”
“How do they come off?”
He lifted up his pants leg again and let go of her hand to gesture to a button. “I press that and the pin unlocks. That allows me to pull the prosthetic off when I need to.”
He shuffled his pant leg back down and reclaimed her hand. “Anything else?”
“Not right now.”
“Then let’s go.” He walked towards the door.
“Should you be doing that?”
“I can walk fine, babe.”
“I meant holding my hand.”
He paused and turned to look at her. Had she said something wrong again?
“Slow,” he muttered.
Did he mean his walking was slow? “Hector—”
“Okay, babe.” He lifted the hand to his lips, kissed it, and let it go. Then he turned and opened the door. “After you, Amelia.”
A little shudder rippled from that just-kissed hand through her body.
That felt nice. Tingly, but nice. She couldn’t focus on the tingles right then—not with work waiting beyond the doorway—but she could think about them later tonight when she was alone. Oh, she’d definitely think about those tingles, and his thigh, and his underwear, and—
“Amelia?”
She cleared her throat and walked forward, stopping in front of him. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then she gave him a small smile and walked out the door.
Chapter Six
Hector watched her walk away, her hips swinging, then adjusted his pants when his cock twitched.
Fuck.
It wasn’t her body making him hard this time, or at least not the only thing. No, it was her mind, her feelings, her awkwardness, her…
Just her.
She was the first woman who truly wasn’t bothered by his legs. He’d known others who’d told him they didn’t mind but, in the end, well…yet his Amelia wasn’t like that.
She accepted him. Fuck it all, but she accepted him. She wasn’t disgusted by what she saw. She was more worried about seeing his goddamn boxers than she was his stump or his prosthetic.
Yes, Amelia was the woman for him.
Now, he just had to prove he was the man for her.
He followed her down the hall, limping a little more than usual. He took stock of the pub, and everyone seemed okay, if a little subdued. The glass had now been cleaned up and a few officers were talking to the customers. Cecilia and Liliana were sitting in their booth, and he stopped by to check on them; both were fine and Liliana was her usual ball of energy.
Low caught sight of him and waved him over to where he stood with Sully.
Hector held out his hand. “Sully.”
“Hector.”
“You catch the guy?”
Low answered. “My agents missed him when he jumped in a car and sped away, but they confirmed it was Piers. They’re looking for the car now.”
Hector sighed, and his eyes strayed towards Amelia, who was serving customers. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but I also am. I thought he was still in jail after breaking into Amelia’s?”
Sully glanced over at Amelia, too, then back to him and Low. “He made bail a couple days ago. We haven’t been able to confirm yet who’s behind that—it was paid by some shell company.”
Low shook his head. “He threatened and almost attacked me months ago, on the day we took over the pub. As a royal, that alone should have prevented bail at that time. Yet now he’s been let out on bail again? Which judges approved the bail? Was it the same one both times?”
Sully shook his head. “Sir, I don’t know offhand, but I can get you that information.”
Low whipped out his phone and started typing. “No need. I’ll have someone look into it.”
Since Low’s older brother, Prince Marcello, was essentially in charge of espionage and intelligence for all Valleria, Hector didn’t doubt that was his ‘someone’.
Sully turned to him. “Would you like me to tell Millie?”
Hector shook his head. “I’ll do it. Damn it.”
Low’s hand came to his shoulder. “She’ll be all right.”
He sighed. “I know she will. First day we’re open and something like this happens. I’ll need to hire some discreet security in case he tries something again.”
Low squeezed his shoulder. “I can help you.”
“Low, I don’t know…”
Sully finished writing something on his pad and tucked it away. “Sir? If I may present an alternative suggestion?”
Low nodded.
“There are several officer
s who moonlight doing security on their off hours. If you’re interested, I can get in touch with some of them.”
“That work for you, Low?”
Low shrugged. “Up to you.”
He knew Low’s shrug. Low’s shrug meant he’d like Hector to take him up on his offer—which would likely include several agents of various Vallerian intelligence agencies—but he’d leave the final decision up to him.
“Thanks, Sully. I’d appreciate the help. I’ll take you up on it.”
Sully nodded. “Will do. Are you approved for outdoor seating?”
Hector blinked at the change of subject. “Uh, yeah, though we haven’t purchased the furniture yet. We were waiting until it warmed up a little more.”
“Get it sooner, if you can. One person could position themselves outside to keep an eye on things. If you’ve got the budget for two people, then they can take turns monitoring both the exterior and interior perimeters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ll call you once I have some names.” Sully gestured to the other officers around the pub. “In the meantime, the other officers will finish getting statements, including yours, Hector. I’m going to head back and start working on things from my end. You still have my card and phone number?”
Hector nodded.
“Good. Use it if you need it.” Sully held out his hand and Hector shook it. Then, Sully turned to Low and bowed. “Sir.”
“Officer.”
After Sully left, he turned to Low. “You get anything to drink?”
Low shook his head. “I got my girls something, but I’m good. How you are?”
“First day in business and this shit happens. Not a good start.”
“I wasn’t talking about the pub. I meant you. How’s your leg?”
Typical Low. His Captain would care more about the person than the business. Though he was relieved he didn’t have to worry about the disastrous start to their new venture, Low’s words also made him want to succeed even more than before. He wanted to prove to Low that he deserved the kindness he was giving him.
That gnawing anxiety was creeping up slowly again, the ‘what ifs’ that never left him alone. What if he didn’t succeed? What if he couldn’t pay Low back? What would he do if he couldn’t do this?
He owed Low everything. Their army team had gotten stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time, due to faulty intel. When Hector had gotten hurt, when he’d seen his team dead around him, he’d wanted to die, too. But Low had saved his life. They’d been the only two to make it out alive.
How had he repaid Low? He’d spent years in a deep depression, wasting the life that Low had saved. He wouldn’t waste any more of it. He owed it to Low. He couldn’t let him down again. He couldn’t let himself down again, either.
Hector shook his leg out a little. “Leg’s all right. Just twisted a little, but nothing’s broken.”
Low nodded his head at Amelia. “You can still have one of the officers tell her. You don’t have to do it.”
Hector sighed. “Yeah, I do. Would you let someone else tell your woman shit like this?”
“Fair point.”
“You don’t have to stick around.”
One corner of Low’s mouth tipped up. “Yeah, I do.” He gave him a wink and slap on the shoulder, then went back to his booth.
Hector shook his head with a small grin that faded when he spotted Amelia walking towards him.
She’d pull away from him; it was what she usually did when her shit-for-brains half-brother did something. He wouldn’t let her, though. After today, after seeing her reaction to him when he needed help…no way would he let her pull away.
He needed her.
She may not know it yet—or maybe she hadn’t accepted it yet—but she needed him, too.
Chapter Seven
Three weeks later…
* * *
“Hector, we need you out front!”
“Coming!” Hector yelled back as he rose from his chair and checked to make sure he had his keys before heading out of his office and down the hall.
The sounds of the Seashell filtered through, filling him with a sense of pride. The attack on day one hadn’t hurt the opening; they’d gotten more press and customers because of it. However, after that initial burst of customers, the sales had tapered off a little. Not a lot, but enough to make him a little nervous. He was hoping once tourist season hit full swing, those particular nerves would go away.
That little niggle in his gut, that self-doubt that he may not make the pub work, was nestled deep. The pub had only been open a few weeks since the relaunch. He’d worked hard—too hard, if the pain in his legs was any indication—but he’d do whatever it took.
He continued down the hall towards the main part of the pub. The sounds of laughter and easy conversation grew louder as he walked closer.
It was odd to think of it, but the pub was home, and not just because he lived over it. He felt more at home behind the bar than sleeping above it. No, it was the fact that it was his, that he was accepted here and, most of all, that he was respected. A man who’d lost both legs below the knees, an immigrant that some were wary of for no good reason, had trouble believing he deserved respect.
Well, that he deserved anything really.
His stiff movements caught the eye of a few patrons—not locals, as the locals never took notice of his legs anymore—and they glanced as he limped to the bar. He supposed it was also his looks that caught attention. Though olive-hued skin was common enough along the Mediterranean, his Mexican heritage was not. Plus, though his legs might be fake, the muscles in his body, clearly visible through his fitted tee, were not, either.
He stopped at the bar and lifted a chin to Daley, who was working as bartender. “You yell for me?”
Daley, both hands full with pouring two drinks at once, jerked his head towards the other end of the bar.
He caught sight of two of his waitresses and realized Daley had called him out to deal with them. Again. With narrowed his eyes, Hector strolled over to them, trying like hell to tamp down his annoyance. “I told you both to stop pulling this shit.”
Liz hitched her hip and hand out. “Whatever do you mean?”
He glanced between Liz and her identical twin, Beth. “Dressing alike? Again?”
Liz pouted. “Come on, Hector. You know it brings in tips.”
Hector just shook his head. “What I know is that the two of you dress alike, you look alike, and you both use the same name—”
“Our nutty mother named us both Elizabeth. That’s not our fault.”
“—and the customers feel so guilty when they mix you up that they tip you more, but then they’ll never come back because they don’t want to risk confusing you two again.”
“The regulars don’t care,” Liz reasoned. “It’s only the non-locals.”
“And this is what you want tourists to think of when they visit Valleria?” He was counting on that tourist money. He couldn’t risk it. “Do it again and you’re both fired.”
“What did I do? It wasn’t my idea.” Beth cried and pointed to her twin sister. “It was hers. It’s always her idea.”
Liz gave Beth a small shove. “Traitor. I can’t believe you’d betray me, and after I let you be born first.”
Beth’s eyes bugged out. “Let me. Let me?”
Knowing exactly where this was going—especially as the pair had this fight at least once a week, he cut them off. “Beth, I know you weren’t behind it, but you are participating and making the customers feel bad. Don’t do it again. You hear me?”
Luke, one of the regulars, sat on a stool with a beer in his hand. “Hector, man, you’re being a little hard on them.”
“Stay out of it, Luke.”
“It’s all right, Luke. You know I like to push Hector’s buttons.” Liz leaned on the bar and gave Hector a pointed look. “Though, maybe if you need to ream me or Beth out again, you can do it in your office?”
; Damn it. She was right; he shouldn’t have said anything in front of the customers. He’d led other men in the army, but still couldn’t manage a couple of his staff. He’d have to do better.
His body stayed tense for a few seconds before he relaxed. His voice was soft but strict. “That’s a fair point, but don’t do it again, all right?”
Liz nodded and winked.
Jesus. That meant she was humoring him and wouldn’t really stop. He’d worry about it next time. Maybe Amelia, who’d be working the closing shift with Beth tonight, could have a word with her.
Did Amelia notice that he always scheduled himself on the same shifts as hers? He doubted it. Did anyone else notice how much he observed her and how they were around each other? He doubted that, too. Since she’d requested ‘more time’ before they went public, he’d been waiting for the right moment to make his next move.
He checked his watch. Amelia was running late for her shift.
She was never late.
He glanced around, looking for her, not finding her. “Amelia still not here yet?”
Liz shook her head. “She’s never been late before, though, and I hope she doesn’t start tonight. I’ve got plans.”
“You and Frank?” he guessed, even while worried energy began to build inside him.
Liz gave him a sappy smile. “It’s our four-year anniversary. I can’t wait to see what Frank has planned.”
Beth scoffed. “You’re assuming he remembered.”
Liz’s mouth dropped open in a dramatic gasp. “Of course, he’ll remember!”
“Like he ‘remembered’ your birthday?”
“He’s in law school. He had a final the next day.”
Beth just raised her eyebrows. “Mmm-hmm. And what was his excuse for Christmas?”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “He forgot about Christmas?”
Liz tipped her nose up and looked to the side. “Not exactly.”
“Yes, exactly. He bailed on you to go on a skiing trip with his pompous friends and didn’t invite you or even bother telling you about it until after he’d left on Christmas Eve.”
Luke shook his head. “Jesus, Liz.”
Liz reached for her tray and dug her order pad out from her half apron. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m going to make a round before Millie gets here.”
Rush (Hector & Millie) (Seaside Valleria #1) Page 10
