by Jill Sanders
He walked over to his car and opened the passenger door for her.
“This is yours?” she asked, standing on the curb beside his BMW.
“Yeah, I usually don’t drive it in the winter, but…” He waited until she slid into the seat. “My truck’s in the shop getting new brakes.” He shut the door gently behind her, then crossed over to climb behind the wheel.
He hated driving his baby in the snow, but the truck hadn’t come back from Ed’s, the local auto repair shop, yet. The truck was for snow and work, the Beemer was for fun. It was the first item he’d purchased on his own and the most expensive by far. But it made his occasional trip to the city more than an hour away pleasurable.
He pulled into a parking spot at the Dancing Moose and opened his door.
“Why is it called the Dancing Moose?” she asked, looking up at the sign.
He smiled. “The story goes that a moose broke in during a wedding party. He made a mess of the place before finally walking out the front door.”
When she chuckled and glanced out the windshield at the building, he climbed out but before he could race around and open her door like he’d been taught, she was already shutting the car door and standing on the sidewalk.
When they entered the diner, he inwardly groaned when he recognized every single person in the place. He knew by the end of the day they would be the hottest subject in Haven. He could just imagine the conversations.
“Did you see who Trey took to lunch?”
“Who was the woman Trey McGowan was having lunch with down at the Dancing Moose?”
“Is this Trey’s latest catch?”
Thankfully, the list of possibilities was interrupted when Rumi, the owner of the diner, greeted them.
“Hey, Trey.” She smiled up at him. “If you can find an empty spot, grab it,” she said as she rushed past them. “The lunch rush is in full swing.”
He leaned over to Dylan. “Don’t let Rumi’s small stature fool you. She’s an ex-marine and can probably kick the ass of everyone in here.” He chuckled as he took Dylan’s arm and guided her towards the back where a table was just being cleared. “She and her husband Neal bought this place a few years back from her parents. The Dancing Moose has been in her family for almost four generations.” He pulled out the chair for Dylan.
Once she was seated, he sat across from her. He could feel every eye on them but chose to ignore the stares.
Kristy, one of his favorite waitresses, came over and set two menus on the table. “I’ll be just a moment,” she said before making her way across the room quickly.
“Have you eaten here before?” Trey asked, pushing his menu away since he knew it by heart.
Dylan picked up the large menu and scanned it.
“Not yet.” She bit her bottom lip as she looked over the items.
He leaned in. “Don’t worry, McGowan Enterprises is picking up the tab today,” he said in a low voice so everyone sitting next to them wouldn’t overhear. “My father always said, when two employees got together, it’s a meeting.”
He’d meant his words to be lighthearted, but he noticed that her slight frown grew.
“I’m not looking for a handout,” she said in a clear voice as she laid down her menu.
Now he was the one frowning.
“You aren’t getting a handout. After saving my butt today, it’s the least I can do to pay you back.” He leaned back in his chair and ran his eyes over her. “Why don’t we consider this an official interview, that way there won’t be any… questions.”
“But I’ve still got the job?” she asked.
He let out a quick breath of relief. “Yes. I don’t know if you know this, but the pool of professionals in Haven is very…” He thought for a second. “Limited.”
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Fine.”
He watched with amusement as she straightened her shoulders and prepared herself for the interview.
“So, it’s just you and your brother?” He could tell the personal question threw her off balance.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Since?” he asked. “You said your folks died?”
“Yes, in a boating accident in Mexico a few years back.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Her eyes turned sad. Reaching across the table, he brushed the back of her hand, then tucked his hands under the table. “It’s hard losing one parent, I can’t imagine losing both at the same time.”
“Your mother is still alive?” she asked.
“Yes.” He glanced around the room. “I’m surprised she’s not having lunch here today. I thought…” His eyes zoned in on the far corner and nodded. “There she is. She and Tony have been seeing one another for a few months now.”
Dylan glanced over to where his mother and the police officer, who’d busted him more times than he remembered, were quietly eating lunch together. He leaned across the table. “If we don’t bother them, they won’t bother us.” He smiled. “As I mentioned, my brothers are usually in here too, but Tyler and his wife just had a kid.”
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations.” She smiled, and he watched as she transformed. She had been beautiful before but seeing the first real smile on her was like seeing light for the first time.
“Thanks. So, why move to Haven? Your brother mentioned you’d been in Seattle before.”
“It really wasn’t my choice.” She relaxed slightly. “When Brent gets something in his mind…” She took a deep breath, then opened her mouth to speak again, but Kristy was back.
“Have you decided yet?” she asked.
He motioned for Dylan to go ahead. She ordered a small side salad and a cup of soup. He thought about telling her to order some real food but instead told Kristy to bring a basket of fries before their meal.
Kristy smiled at him. “Will do.” After she walked away, he continued with his questioning.
“Where are you living?” he asked, “I didn’t have a chance to look at your paperwork.”
“We’ve got a room at the hotel just down the street.” She motioned towards the front of the place and he winced.
“You’re staying there?” He shook his head and thought about it.
“It was the only place we could afford.” She sighed. “Now that we both have jobs, we’ll be looking for something more permanent.”
“I know of a few places that are for rent.” He thought about the small house in town that he’d rented from his mother’s best friend after returning home when his father had died. Shortly after he’d moved in, his mother had purchased the place as an investment property. Since he was living on his own land now in a double-wide his brother Trent had finished with, the place on Main Street was sitting empty.
Trent had finished building his own house a few months back and since his two brothers were now on McGowan land, he felt it was only fitting he move out to his plot of land as well. So, instead of his brother hauling the double-wide away, he’d parked it on the plot of land his father had willed to him.
It was, in Trey’s opinion, the best plot of land out of the three brothers. Tyler’s new home was on the hillside, overlooking the valley. Trent’s was halfway up a small hill, overlooking the stream that ran through the flatlands. Trey had tucked the two-thousand-square-foot trailer back in the trees right along the brook. He figured when he got around to building his own home, he’d do it right there, hidden away from the rest of the world.
The hot fries were delivered, and he nudged the basket her way and smiled when she nibbled on a few.
“Any more personal questions for me or are we going to keep pretending this is a job interview?” she asked.
Chapter 4
Dylan didn’t know what had caused her to ask the question. Maybe it was the fact that she was feeling full for the first time in months. Trey had pushed the basket of fries her way and the smell of them had called to her. It had been too long since she’d eaten so much, and her salad and soup hadn’t even arrived yet.
> It stung, knowing she only had two dollars in her purse, hidden from her brother for emergencies. She’d expected to buy just a cup of coffee or maybe a basket of fries and was thankful she would be getting a full meal instead.
She had a job, a real job, she reminded herself. Instead of putting in a few hours here and there at Carrie Ann’s when the owner felt like calling her. Sure, tips were great, but the job sucked. More nights than not, there were fights, and she was usually stuck in the middle of them, fending for and fearing for her own safety. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by her that every time her brother showed up, fights were inevitable.
Feeling the need to apologize ahead of time for anything Brent was going to do in the future, she glanced around and wondered how to go about it.
“About my brother…” She leaned in slightly. She wanted to make sure her job didn’t hinge on his. “I’m not… he’s…” She shook her head, at a loss for words.
“Hey,” Trey broke in, “I understand how siblings are. Half the town judges me by what my older brothers do or have done. Do you know, I walked into my freshmen year at high school with a bad-boy reputation already firmly in place?” He sighed. “Teachers would call out roll call and once they saw McGowan behind my name, they would groan and say, ‘We aren’t going to have problems are we, McGowan?’ It was almost like they didn’t know my first name or care to know it. I was just another McGowan to them.”
She’d watched him talk. He had gotten very animated when he was lost in the story, and she found it almost hypnotic to watch. His blue eyes turned slightly darker as his emotions spiked.
“I’m not my brother,” she said softly.
“And I’m not mine.” He smiled. “So, we’re in agreement. You won’t judge me for being a McGowan and I won’t judge you for anything Brent might say or do.” He held out his hand for hers. She reached out and took it easily. Instead of shaking it, he held it firmly. “But, know this, if I ever see him push you around again, I have no problem living up to the McGowan name and kicking the shit out of him.”
Her smile grew. “Agreed.”
For the rest of their lunch, they talked about family. She heard all about his brothers and their new wives, along with small details about his mother, Gail. He’d warned her that she and her new beau Tony might swing by their table when they left, and they had. Trey had quickly introduced her as his savior, who had taken over Rea’s job at McGowan Enterprises. She’d been happily surprised at her title of office manager. Not that she had anyone to manage, but it sounded better than secretary.
She’d liked Trey’s mother instantly when the woman asked about her tattoos and had been sincerely interested instead of judgy like a lot of older people tended to be.
“Trey has several tattoos,” Gail had nodded towards her son. “Of course, he’s not the only one.” She’d winked at her.
“What?” Trey had broken in. “Who?”
Gail smiled and tugged on Tony’s arm to get him moving out of the diner.
“Mom?” Trey had called after her. “Who else has a tattoo?”
The woman had just chuckled as she waved and walked out.
“I think your mom has a tattoo.” She smiled as she finished her soda.
Trey was frowning into his empty plate. He’d eaten an entire steak, a baked potato, and a massive helping of broccoli, and he’d ordered a large slice of chocolate pie on top of it. She was surprised that he didn’t weigh three hundred pounds. “She can’t. I would know about it.”
Dylan just laughed. “Are you really upset about this?”
He frowned at her as the waitress set the massive slice of cake in front of him. “No, of course not. She was probably just messing around.”
“What tattoos do you have?” She couldn’t remember seeing any the other night, and since he was dressed in a long-sleeved button-up shirt, she didn’t see any now.
She could tell that she’d gotten his mind off his mother. He smiled at her and slowly bit into the cake. He handed her an extra fork. “Dig in.” He nodded to the dessert.
She chuckled. “Not going to tell?” she asked.
“With someone like you, I might have tattoo envy,” he answered.
She smiled. “It helped that I dated a tattooist for almost a full year.”
He nodded. “I dated one in Miami. Rainah worked at Tatts and played in an all-girl punk band.” He sighed heavily. “Good times.”
She took a nibble of the chocolate cake and held in a groan. It was hot and melted in her mouth. She quite possibly could orgasm right there in the middle of the diner with everyone watching. It had been almost two months since she’d been able to afford a chocolate fix.
“Jax had his own shop and played bongos on the streets of Seattle when he needed extra money,” she added between bites.
“Sounds like a real winner.” Trey smiled over at her as they finished off the cake. “What kind of name is Jax anyway?”
“What kind of name is Trey?” she countered.
His blonde eyebrows shot up. “It’s a nickname. I doubt if one person other than my family knows my real name at this point.”
“Oh?” She smiled. “What is your real name?”
He chuckled. “Not going to happen.” He waved the waitress over and handed her a credit card, then glanced down at his watch. “We’d better get back. I’d hate to be late for my meetings. Tyler gets pissy when I do.”
They drove back to the brick building that housed his family’s business.
When Trey parked in his spot, she noticed him frowning at an older truck parked near the doors.
“Are we late?” she asked.
“No.” He shut the car off and she missed the warmth from the seat warmers almost instantly. “I’ll warn you about this part of the job as well. Dealing with my uncle.”
She turned back towards the truck as an older man climbed out. She was surprised at how much the man looked like Trey’s father, whom she’d seen in a family picture. She had studied the family painting in the waiting area while Trey had interviewed her brother.
Out of the three boys, Trey had gotten his father’s blonde hair and blue eyes. The other two boys had darker hair and brown eyes like their mother.
“Carl McGowan is a drunk. Anytime he shows up here,” Trey said quickly, “call the police.” He handed her his cell phone. “It’s in speed dial under PD.” He got out of the car, but before walking away, he leaned in. “Stay put.”
She found and dialed the number in his phone as she watched Trey move across the parking lot. The man sure knew how to wear a suit, she thought as she waited for someone to answer the phone.
“What’s up, Trey?” a woman answered in a sweet voice. She guessed it was the same woman from the other night but didn’t want to make assumptions.
“Hi, this is Dylan. I’m calling for Mr. McGowan. It appears that his uncle is here—”
“I’ll send Mike on over. Are you at the office?” the woman broke in.
“Yes,” she answered. There was a slight pause and Dylan could hear the woman talking to someone.
“Okay, they’re on the way. Who is this?”
“My name is Dylan…”
“From the other night? Your brother is Brent?”
“Yes, I’m the new office manager here.” She felt a slight twinge about throwing the fake title around.
“Oh, wonderful. They found someone to fill Kristen and Rea’s shoes. Well, don’t worry, Mike and Tom are on the way over. Just keep Trey from killing his uncle before they get over there.”
The line when dead and Dylan tucked his phone into her coat pocket and got out of the car.
“I don’t give a shit what you think, there’s nothing here for you,” Trey was saying in a clear voice.
“You know as well as I do, that’s shit. I’m due…” Just then his uncle’s eyes moved past him and landed on her. She thought about retreating for a moment but then held her ground. She’d never backed out of a fight.
“They’re on
their way,” she said, stopping next to Trey.
“Thanks.” He turned back to his uncle and she noticed that he moved slightly putting his body between her and the older man.
“Who?” his uncle asked her, ignoring Trey. “You call the cops on me?” His eyes narrowed at her. She raised her chin slightly and didn’t answer. She knew the signs of someone far gone into the drink and didn’t care what he said. By the looks of it, alcohol wasn’t the only thing pulsing through the man’s bloodstream.
“You never could fight like a man. Always running away to get your brothers or making your bitch call for help.” The older man swung out, missing Trey as he easily ducked.
“Easy, old man.” Trey held onto his shoulders, stopping him from falling over.
“Let go of me you son of a…”
Trey moved so quickly, Dylan didn’t have time to respond. One moment his uncle was standing and, the next, he was sprawled face first on the ground with Trey standing over him. All Trey had done was let go of the man’s shoulders and his uncle had fallen into the freshly fallen snow in the parking lot.
“You’ll need to be careful how you treat our employees from here on out,” Trey warned, as he pulled the man back to his feet. “And you’ll want to be extra careful. The parking lot is slippery,” Trey said as the man gained his feet again.
Dylan noticed the older man’s face was bright red. He swung out, catching Trey unaware. The man’s thick fist slammed directly into Trey’s nose. Blood splattered over her as she gasped, and Trey cursed under his breath.
The fight between her brother and Trey had left marks on both men. For his part, Trey was sporting a swollen eye and lip. Her brother had a matching swollen eye and a cut across his bottom lip. Now, however, looking at the amount of blood flowing from Trey’s nose, she wondered if he’d broken it.
“Son of a…” Trey said, swiping his nose. His hand came away covered in blood. Instead of releasing his uncle, he gripped him tighter and pushed him towards the front doors.
She followed and when they reached the doorway, the police cruiser pulled in and stopped a few feet away.
