by Ali Parker
“He claims not to.” I didn’t believe him, but I’d been dealing with my father for long enough to know he wasn’t always forthcoming when it came to the details of the criminal underworld he had gotten involved with. “He seems resigned to coming out though, if I’m being honest. Whoever is behind it, I could see Dad thinks they will succeed.”
Beau’s expression turned contemplative, his thumb and index finger lifting to his chin. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he did get out. As shitty a man as he is, maybe getting out is what he deserves. At least it would mean all this would be over.”
I felt like someone punched me in the gut hearing Beau say that. What Dad had done had been tough on all of us. It tested us and our ties to one another in ways I could never have fathomed or imagined. With three of our brothers now involved in trying to prove there was something larger at play and Dad might not have been guilty to begin with, we continued to be tested and put through hell because of our father.
Hearing Beau say that perhaps he deserved to come out knowing what the likely consequence would be, however, rattled me to the core. “He’s not a shitty man. He just did a shitty thing. That’s all.”
“Sometimes people can’t be separated from their actions, big brother. I would have thought you of all people would understand that.” Beau sounded dejected but also convinced by what he was saying. “Either way, if you go see him again tell him I don’t want any of that dirty money, okay?”
He waved Millie over abruptly, signaling for our check. She nodded and headed to the cash register as Beau stood up. “I’m ready for this to be over, Ty. It’s been too long and look at what our brothers and the women they love have been through because of it. I don’t want any part of it anymore, not even the money.”
Shocked by his statements and his sudden departure, I just nodded. It was all I could do.
Chapter Eight
Eve
“Do you have any new romance novels in stock?” I asked the clerk of the secondhand bookstore I frequented downtown.
Romantic fiction was my escape. The dirtier, the better. It could be pure smut and I would love it, which was why it was not only my escape but also my guilty pleasure.
I’d been through enough in my life to value the simple things like getting lost in a completely unrealistic love story about men with abnormally large cocks who could go for hours and who inevitably fell in love with the hapless heroine.
If my life had been a novel, it wouldn’t have ended with a neatly packaged happily ever after. It wouldn’t have been a romance novel either. Even if it were, I would have been the exact opposite of those heroines, and that was what drew me to them.
The fantasy of it all, of being allowed to be a damsel in distress and having a knight in shining armor riding in to your rescue, fascinated me. I didn’t even care that the knights in the books I read often had rusty armor instead of the shining kind or that they were so deeply flawed themselves that I regularly wondered if the heroine wouldn’t have been better off running away instead of toward the guy.
Those were the kinds of thoughts I craved to have, which made the books so addictive. They were so fun, mindless and free of any real-world consequences that I devoured them.
My heart did a happy little flip when the clerk nodded in response to my question. “Sure. We got a bunch of boxes in just yesterday. Follow me.”
Mentally calculating how many new treasures I could buy with my self-imposed monthly book budget, which was a necessity since I would go bankrupt if I let myself spend freely on books, I followed the clerk to the table labeled ‘New Arrivals’.
The hairs on the back on my neck rose just as I was picking up a book with a particularly promising cover showcasing a woman’s bare stomach with a dark head of hair planting a kiss below her belly button. Awareness that someone was watching me slammed into me. My gaze snapped up, away from the book and across the cluttered store.
It came to a rest on a pair of men wearing dark suits lingering around the entrance of the store near the bargain buy boxes. Neither of them was looking at a book.
Instead, they were both looking right at me. Shit.
I reached into my purse and rummaged around for my phone almost before I could comprehend what I was doing. Those men looked like the same ones who had been at the wedding open house.
I didn’t know why they might be following me, but I had a sneaky feeling it might have been because I’d met with Tyson. I knew a lot of men like them, but I didn’t know these ones. They weren’t ours.
I remembered seeing him speaking to the men who had been at the open house and I didn’t think it was a coincidence they had left after he spoke to them, or that they had sought me out when he wasn’t around.
I had programmed his number into my phone after our meeting, and I scrolled to it as I stepped off to one side so I would be almost hidden behind one of the shelves, pretending to be engrossed in whatever was on my phone so they wouldn’t be tipped off that I was making a call.
“Eve?” Tyson answered on the second ring, sounding surprised and concerned to hear from me. “Is everything okay? Are you done with the will already?”
“It’s not that.” I kept my voice low and even, not wanting him to hear how alarmed I was over being followed. “Do you remember those guys from the wedding open house the other day? The ones who looked totally out of place?”
“Yes.” His tone hardened. “What about them?”
“They’re in the bookstore where I am right now. I think they may be following me.” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not sounding like a frightened, timid mouse. “I think it’s because I met with you.”
“Where are you?” he asked, the words clipped. I told him the address. “I’ll be right there.”
Thank God. An unfamiliar warmth flooded me at the knowledge that Tyson was on his way. He was a busy guy, but he was willing to drop everything to come to the bookstore because of me. It was a heady feeling. If I was a giggler, I might have let out a delighted, girly little giggle at the thought.
Tyson arrived minutes later and walked right up to the guys. I was still partially hidden by the bookshelf, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying to the men, but soon I saw them scowl at Tyson before turning and walking away slowly.
That’s right, guys. Get out of here! I felt like cheering as I watched their broad backs retreating.
Tyson folded his arms and watched them until they were out of sight. The suit he was wearing was perfectly fitted, stretching just right over his shoulders and biceps.
It struck me again how well built he had to be underneath the layers of fabric he wore. I was willing to bet he was so damn sexy my eyes would cross if I ever saw him naked.
When the guys were gone, Tyson turned and looked around the store with a worried expression lining his handsome features. As soon as he saw me, he strode over.
My pulse started racing, my mouth getting dry as he approached. He was taking up all the oxygen in the room just by being who he was. It was getting harder to breathe, and the lack of air was making me feel dizzy.
My gaze slid from side to side, taking in the other customers to determine if they felt it too. No one else seemed to be borderline panting. Nope, just me then.
I didn’t know what it was that made him have this effect on me. I wasn’t the type to be scared or afraid of fighting my own battles, and yet I had called him at the first sign of trouble.
I instinctively knew he would protect me and keep me safe, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to feel that way. He was an alpha guy in the very best way possible and I wanted that. I savored the thought of surrendering to him.
Even when I read about those super alpha heroes in my novels, I never actually wanted one of them. I was perfectly happy to swoon over them in secret in the privacy of my own home, even as I viciously judged their behavior and that of the women who fell for them.
With Tyson, however, the strength, confidence, and power he exude
d evoked these strange feelings of wanting him to take care of me. It felt like, just this once, I could sit back and let someone else take charge for one damn time.
“Are you okay?” Tyson’s deep voice cut into my thoughts, a faint line between his eyebrows. “I don’t know who they were, but they’re gone now.”
“I’m fine. They didn’t come near me, just stood there and watched me. Thank you for coming.” I looked up into Tyson’s dark blue eyes, feeling like I might fall into them. They seemed endlessly deep, like the ocean when you were so far out you couldn’t see land anymore.
He was looking back at me, and I realized he was probably waiting for me to say something. It was a very random call to have received from someone he barely knew, saying I was being followed because I’d met with him. Especially because technically, there were other reasons I would have a tail. Tyson didn’t need to know about those reasons, though. Not yet.
I cleared my throat, pulling myself out of the depths of his eyes and returning my attention to the situation I found myself in. “I have no idea why they would be targeting me, if that’s even what they are doing. It sure feels like they are, first showing up at the open house and now, here. They weren’t in here when I walked in, so it can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t think it is, either,” he said darkly, his way-too-kissable mouth forming a set line. With his dark hair, tanned features and those eyes, Tyson resembled a thunderstorm ripping through the night sky when he was angry, and he sure looked angry right now.
I studied him, wondering why he would be angry about this. He didn’t know me, didn’t have any duty to protect me, or any real reason to feel anything at all about me and my welfare.
All of which left room for only one possibility. “Do you know why they would be following me? What’s going on here, Tyson?”
If he was surprised about me confronting him point blank, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes did a slow survey of the bookstore as though checking there was no one else around who appeared threatening or overly interested in us.
“I might have an idea, though I can’t be sure of it.”
I arched an eyebrow, my hands finding my hips. I was the one being followed, yet he was standing there being cryptic with me. “Let’s hear it. What do you think is going on?”
“We can’t talk about it here.” He leaned forward as he spoke. He had only been a couple of feet away from me before, but now he was close enough that his woodsy scent drifted over me.
Sandalwood and cedar. It was soft, masculine and sensual, not overbearing. He wasn’t one of those guys who spritzed a whole bottle of cologne onto their skin before leaving their homes. It was almost like you had to work for it to be able to catch a whiff.
Between his eyes and his smell, it was a damn wonder anyone was able to work around the man. I definitely wasn’t functioning at optimal levels. I had to consciously remind myself that we were in the middle of a conversation and not a staring match. “Where do you want to talk about it, then?”
No matter his looks, his smell or his overpowering presence, I wasn’t one of the damsels in distress I secretly loved so much. It was nice to feel protected and having him there to deal with the men, but that didn’t mean I was going to let him go away and leave me in the dark about what was going on.
Tyson cocked his head, his eyes narrowing briefly as though he was trying to decide how much to tell me. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “Meet me for dinner at Salt tonight. Seven o’clock. We’ll talk about everything then.”
My eyes wanted to widen at the restaurant he’d chosen, but I didn’t want to let on about the thrill that traveled through me that he wanted to take me there. I would’ve been fine to have a clandestine meeting in a government vehicle out in a darkened parking lot—although that might have been the spy romances I’d read coming through.
Whatever I expected, it wasn’t for him to ask me to have dinner at one of the most upper-class restaurants in Savannah. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
It’s not a date, I chided myself. I would do well to remember that when we met. It was just a business thing. As though confirming my thoughts, Tyson gave a decisive nod and a tight smile before walking away. There was definitely no excitement or any hint that he saw this as anything other than a business meeting, albeit one in a slightly more glamorous setting than the one we’d had in his office.
Once he was gone, I turned back to my browsing. I wasn’t going to let the incident derail me from my shopping for my weekend entertainment. Try as I might, though, I couldn’t stop myself from looking up every few minutes just to check that there was no one watching me.
Chapter Nine
Tyson
“Would you care for a refill, sir?” a waiter wearing a crisp white shirt with black slacks asked, motioning to my empty coffee mug.
I shook my head. “I’ll just have some water for now, thank you.”
Giving a little bow, I thought I saw pity in his eyes before he left my table. I had no doubt that he thought I’d been stood up. The truth was that I’d purposefully gotten there early. I wanted to be there when Eve arrived.
I told myself it was because it was unprofessional to be late and I’d rather be safe than sorry, but an insistent voice in the back of my mind kept hurling the truth at me. I was there early because I was looking forward to spending time with her, even if it was in a professional capacity.
Salt was renowned for being one of the best restaurants in the city. It was generally fully booked months in advance, but an old football teammate of mine was the chef and he always made sure I got a table when I wanted one.
It helped that I didn’t abuse the inside contact. I’d only called him up about it twice, the second time being tonight. The only other time, I’d brought Jeremy and Marie here to celebrate their engagement.
It wasn’t really the kind of place I would usually bring a woman. It was too romantic. Light was provided primarily by candles, lamps and fairy lights. Soft acoustic guitars flowed through unseen speakers and tables were far enough apart to be surrounded by greenery so that patrons felt like they were alone in the dining room.
Over the years, it had become known as one of the places in Savannah to get engaged or bring a date you really wanted to impress. Hence the waiting list and my aversion to bringing women here.
When Eve asked me earlier where I wanted to talk, I was tempted to tell her I didn’t want to talk at all. She had to draft Dad’s will. That was it. Why the hell my father wanted her to draft it remained a mystery. Being a lawyer, I knew quite well that any will needed to be reviewed by an attorney. As far as I knew, Eve was nothing more than an accountant. Yet she must know the financial details my father had worked so fucking hard to keep under wraps.
One look into her eyes and I knew that plan wasn’t going to fly. She wasn’t the type to sit back, shrug and say “Okay, you deal with it and I’ll wait it out.” She was the one being followed, and she wanted answers. It was only fair, which was why I relented. While I shouldn’t have invited her to this restaurant, as soon as I saw her arriving, I knew I’d done the right thing.
Eve looked so stunning that I was awestruck for a moment, unable to rise to my feet like my mother had taught me to do. Manners were the last thing on my mind as I watched her walk toward me wearing a flowing floor-length red dress. It was held up by the thinnest of straps that tied behind her neck, leaving the material to pool low between her breasts. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, and yet she somehow still managed to look elegant and demure.
Fiery hair tied at the side of her neck in a carefully messy bun, her eyes were lined with gray, giving her a smoky look that nearly weakened my knees. Shit. Only a few paces away.
My mother’s voice spoke up in my subconscious, a consequence of listening to her trying to teach five boys how to be gentlemen. By the time Sonny came along, I could mouth every one of her lessons along with her in any given situation.
I shot to my feet just in time,
rounding the table and beating the waiter to her chair. I pulled it back. “Eve. Hi. Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
It would have been too much to tell her she looked beautiful, though the words were right on the tip of my tongue. I had to be professional here. It didn’t matter how difficult it was going to be, I would have to manage.
A sweet flush touched her cheeks, almost like she had heard the words I hadn’t spoken and was responding to them in an adorably innocent way. “Thank you for inviting me.”
I took my seat and signaled for the waiter to bring out a bottle of wine I’d ordered earlier, asking him to hold it back until I called for it. He nodded, his eyes slightly wide as he took in my ‘date’. Not only had she arrived, but she was the most gorgeous woman in the room by a long shot, as far as I was concerned.
“Thank you again for coming to my rescue today.” She smiled, and her eyes shone like emeralds in the sun when she did. “I promise I won’t make a habit of calling you when I’m in trouble.”
If she called me whenever a man followed her, I wouldn’t have many days of actual work left in my life. “You’re welcome to. They shouldn’t have been there. You were right to call.”
“Why do you say they shouldn’t have been there?” Her hands were in her lap, but she scooted eagerly forward on her chair and bent slightly at her waist. “Do you know who they are yet?”
“Wow. There’s no beating around the bush with you, huh?” I grinned. “No niceties, no asking me how I am. Right to business.”
She shrugged, but I could see the corners of her lips were begging to lift. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? You promised you would tell me your ideas tonight.”
“I don’t recall promising, exactly.” My tone was teasing, and Eve responded easily by giving me a mock glare.
