Beneath These Chains

by Meghan March

  She crossed her arms, her expression turning mulish. “I don’t think you understand how stubborn I am. I’ll literally just keep showing up every day until you lock me out.”

  I released a long breath and laughed. This was getting ridiculous. “Why? Why the hell do you want to work here so bad? It makes no goddamn sense.”

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting in the way of an answer, but it wasn’t her quiet, “I’ve got my reasons, and it’s just icing on the cake that everyone I know will think I’m being ridiculous again and wasting my time.”

  My momentary humor fled. “And that’s supposed to convince me to let you stay? You insulting my shop?”

  “I’m not insulting it; I’m just saying what they’ll say to me. It’s nothing against you. And quite frankly, I’m already hooked on the idea of working here, so if you really try to make me leave, we’re going to have issues.”

  It was official: I would never get women. Arguing with Elle was absolutely pointless. I didn’t understand her reasoning, her logic, or any other damn thing about her—except that she’d impressed the hell out of me on Saturday when she’d rattled off all the items I’d been underpricing. I’d spent a few hours combing the internet, and she’d been right. I couldn’t help but wonder what else I was missing. I’d accumulated a lot of knowledge in the last two years about the stuff that came in and out of this place, but I couldn’t know it all, and I didn’t always have time to research every single piece. She was right about one thing, though; she had skills, and they’d be welcome. So I did something I rarely ever did, and I gave in.

  “We open at ten, which means I’ll be by to pick you up at nine-thirty. It’s out of my way, but if that doesn’t work for you, you’ll need to adjust your schedule. We’re open Tuesday through Saturday, and I’ll run you home after we close at seven. Mathieu covers the store when I’m out on calls to take a look at bigger stuff people want to sell, so you’ll need to make sure you get along with him. If you’ve got suggestions for price increases or anything else, we discuss them first. I don’t gouge customers—I make the fair deal.”

  Elle’s red lips curved into a smile. If that was the look of victory on her face, something told me I’d give in more than once just to see it again. The thought flashed through my brain before I could shut it down. This was dangerous. This whole fucking thing was dangerous.

  Elle straightened her shoulders, all business. She slipped around to the back of the display case and unlocked it—with keys she must have gotten from Mathieu. He and I were gonna have to have a chat. “Perfect. Then let’s talk now. I’d re-price almost all of this entire case…” She slid open the mirrored back and pulled out watches and jewelry and went over point-by-point why each was priced too low, how to increase the margin, how she would respond to customer inquiries about the higher prices. She didn’t stop for at least twenty minutes. I stood, watching and listening. And trying to control my growing fascination with this woman. She didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong in my world at all. But damned if I didn’t like the way her cut-through-the-bullshit attitude livened up the place already.

  She’s not for you.

  I waited until she was done with her spiel before speaking. “Do it. All of it. And make sure you fill out your paperwork before we leave today. You’re not getting paid under the table.”

  I couldn’t believe I was saying the words. She was going to complicate the shit out of everything.

  I turned and headed for my office, just to get a break from the intensity that was Elle. Mathieu was in my chair, tapping away at some computer game.

  I lowered myself onto the couch, dropped my head back, and closed my eyes. “You gonna work today, kid?”

  Mathieu burst out laughing. “I’ll work, but I didn’t want to interrupt your one-on-one session out there. Can’t believe we’re adding a rich girl to the family.”

  I snapped open my eyes. “Adding her to the payroll. That’s it.”

  “Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say. I recognize a keeper when I see one.”

  I refused to acknowledge that keeping Elle might be the only way I could have her without causing a shitstorm. If I wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck … if I was looking to start something with her for real, Vanessa might not freak out. But to Mathieu, all I said was, “You’re nineteen. You recognize tits and ass and call it a day.”

  “Well, someone’s gotta recognize. You’ve been going through a dry spell lately. You need to get some—”

  “My personal life is not up for debate.”

  “Well, shit, man. How long’s it been? A few months? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that the parade of cars parked in front of your house stopped and hasn’t started again. I keep an eye out from my side of the street, you know.”

  For fuck’s sake. Why did I help the kid get an apartment across the street from me? Oh yeah, because I wanted to keep an eye on him. I just hadn’t considered he’d be keeping an eye on me.

  Mathieu kept at it. “You know I’m just watchin’ out for you. I think if you maybe got some—”

  A noise in the hallway caught my attention, along with a flash of red hair. I held up a hand to silence Mathieu and called, “Might as well come in, sweet thing, since you’re eavesdropping anyway.”

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was going to ask you a question about that Cartier bracelet.”

  “Yes, it’s real. Yes, it’s been vetted to see if it was stolen. Everything we buy that’s high end is vetted for that purpose.”

  “Oh, good. Do I get an employee discount?”

  Mathieu’s quick laughter filled the office. “She’s a chick, man, what did you expect?”

  In general, I’m easily amused, so I expected to be entertained by the pawnshop—at least for a while. But I hadn’t expected to be completely fascinated. I’d been a shopkeeper part-time at Dirty Dog, but this was an altogether different kind of commerce. There was an utterly unique slice of life walking through these doors, and the stories I heard would never leave me. A drumhead signed by Dave Grohl that a sixteen-year-old was selling to help buy his first car. A Bronze Star Medal from World War II that a man had found when his great uncle passed away. A wedding band a woman wanted to pawn in order to buy a prescription for a sick baby—except I wouldn’t let her and instead slipped her some of my own money while Lord wasn’t looking. And then the people who came in to buy—they expected to haggle, and they loved it. The thrill of the bargain and feeling like we’d both won something was energizing. One guy came back several times to go head-to-head with me. After almost five days, I was feeling like I’d finally found a place that fit me—at least for now.

  And Lord. Lord oh Lord. It had become my go-to internal chant. The man could melt the panties off damn near any woman. Me included. I realized now that the speech he’d given me the day he’d ‘hired’ me was probably the longest set of words he’d ever strung together. He didn’t use two words when one would do. Which meant I got a lot of—“Yes,” “No,” and “Good”—in response to my comments and questions. The men who ran in my circle were usually entirely too happy to talk about themselves. Ask one question and a guy could go on and on about his hobbies or job for an hour. After four and a half days, I still knew almost nothing about Lord that had come from the man himself. I picked up bits and pieces from Mathieu, but what I learned through that avenue only made me more curious. I also knew a little from Vanessa, but again, that just added to my growing list of questions.

  For example, I knew that Lord and Con had been separated as kids and hadn’t been reunited until they’d enlisted in the Army. He was three years older than Con, which put him at thirty-four. Vanessa had told me that Con’s early life in foster care hadn’t been the best, and something made me think that Lord’s had been even less of a fairy tale. I wanted answers, but it wasn’t like these were questions I could come out and ask, no matter how badly I wanted to. So I took a page out of Lord’s book and listened and watched and waited. It was a process that r
equired patience, which wasn’t something I could generally claim as a strength. But every time I danced back to the office to crow over a big sale and he’d crack a smile at my excitement, I felt like I’d won a minor victory—even though my attempts to flirt had gone completely unnoticed.

  I wasn’t giving up though. All I had to do was look at the guy, and I had a hundred ideas of how we could break in the couch in his office. He was at least six foot six, with shoulders like a linebacker. I’d caught him changing his T-shirt in the office after he’d come back from tinkering with the cars out in the warehouse. His abs? Holy motherfucking hell. Eight pack, ladies. Eight pack. And that V that disappeared into his worn jeans? I wanted to drop to my knees and trace it with my tongue. I had to back away before I mauled the man. And don’t get me started on the ink… I’d understood Vanessa’s fascination with her boyfriend’s tattoos on a surface level. They were edgy and dangerous and definitely sexy. But on Lord? Cue wet panties and sleepless nights. Every time his arms flexed I wanted to tell him to hold still so I could study the designs and maybe pet them. If one was even allowed to pet the sexy, blue-eyed man beast. I shivered just thinking about him. And to cap off his insane body and artwork, he had this hot, blond buzz cut that I wanted to scrape my nails through and an elusive smile I’d made it my mission to see as often as possible.

  The front chime sounded, and I shook off the thoughts of my too-hot-for-his-own-good boss.

  But apparently today was Tempt Elle with Drop Dead Sexy Men day.

  A big man, with light caramel-colored skin, a shadow of dark hair, and piercing silver eyes stepped into the shop. I did a double take because the guy was a dead ringer for Shemar Moore from Criminal Minds—one of my all-time favorite TV shows.

  Hello, hot stuff.

  He stood just inside the doorway, and his presence filled the room. He exuded power—a lot like the intensity that hovered around Lord, but darker. More menacing. My hot stuff thought morphed into dangerously hot. The kind of hot you wouldn’t go out of your way to tangle with because who knew if you’d survive it. And, working in this part of town, my survival instincts were improving rapidly.

  Those unusual silver eyes pinned me where I stood. I wanted to glance back toward the office in hopes that Mathieu would have heard the chime and would be poking his head out right now, but I couldn’t look away, and Mathieu didn’t magically appear beside me.

  He lifted his chin at me, and a devastating smile spread across his face. “So now I see what my boys are all talking about.”

  Say what now?

  “Excuse me?” I asked, careful to keep my voice steady.

  “You might be a little thing, but you’ve made a big impression on my boys. I had to come see the sexy-as-hell redhead they’re all talking about.”

  I frowned. First, I wasn’t little. I was five foot seven with kickin’ curves. Tits and ass, thy name is Elle. It just seemed that all the guys who came in here were freaking giants. Second—and more importantly—I didn’t know who this guy was or why he had boys, but I knew I didn’t like the fact that I was being talked about.

  He held out a hand. “I’m Rix. Nice to finally meet you, Elle.”

  A ripple of unease slid through me. He knew my name. And apparently I had some kind of reputation. Nope. I didn’t like this at all. Red flags waved in my brain wildly.

  But his eyes were mesmerizing, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to shake his hand.

  “So, you’re Lord’s new girl.”

  “Ummm … I’m his new employee,” I replied.

  Rix tilted his head to the left a fraction of an inch and studied me. “So you’re not his girl.” The man didn’t ask questions; he made statements. I was also pretty sure I was screwing something up here.

  I was saved from answering by the squeak of the back door hinges and heavy booted footsteps walking toward us.

  Lord’s presence filled the shop just as effectively as Rix’s, and a battle for dominance waged in the air. I tugged my hand out of Rix’s grip.

  “Are you here to see Lord?” I asked, attempting nonchalance, and becoming bolder now that I knew I had back up coming my way.

  Rix never took his eyes off me. “No. I came here to see you, Elle.”

  That ripple of unease? It was growing exponentially.

  Lord dropped a takeout bag on the far end of the counter as he came around to stand behind me. The heat of his body radiated through the thin cotton of my dress.

  “Rix,” Lord said, finally drawing the man’s attention off my face. I almost sagged into him with relief.

  “Lord,” the other man replied.

  “You need something?” Lord’s tone sharpened with an unmistakable edge of challenge.

  Rix shook his head. “Just came to see what all the fuss was over this new woman you got. I expected another like Bree—wasn’t expecting high class. Your taste is improving.”

  Okay. Now, I really didn’t appreciate being discussed as though I wasn’t present. Not a damn bit.

  “I’m—”

  “She’s too busy working and keeping me satisfied to have any time to chat with you, Rix,” Lord interrupted. “If you’re not here to buy or pawn something, I suggest you move along.”

  “You sure about that, Lord?” Rix did that head-tilting thing again, and his eyes raked us both. “You’re looking a little tense, man. A woman this fine should have you relaxed and taken care of.”

  Lord’s big hand wrapped around my hip and drew me flush against him.

  What the—? My internal question cut off as I realized what was happening here: He was marking his territory. Which was crazy, considering Mr. One-Word-Wonder had practically avoided me all week. Besides, I was nobody’s territory. I didn’t get a chance to think about it for too long, because Lord’s chest vibrated behind me. Did he just growl?

  “Don’t you worry about my woman taking care of me. As a matter of fact, don’t you worry about a goddamn thing when it comes to my woman.”

  His woman?

  Apparently Lord was a mortal man. A little competition, and I was back in the game. But we’d be talking about this his woman thing later.

  Elle stiffened, and I tightened my grip on her hip and kept her pinned to me. A few seconds passed before she relaxed into my chest. Good. She’d have to be completely clueless to not pick up the vibes Rix was throwing down. He was here to scope her out and decide whether or not he wanted her for himself. And the look on his face said he absolutely wanted her. I couldn’t blame the guy. I’d been fighting it for days, and it was a losing battle. Those dresses, that hair, those tits, that ass. Not to mention her crazy, peppy personality. She was constantly upbeat, bringing life into the shop that had never been there as long as I’d been running the place. I constantly found myself fighting the urge to go hang out on the sales floor—which I generally did several hours a day—but with Elle there, I didn’t think I could handle the temptation. She was cutting through my restraint one thread at a time. I’d been holding firm to my do not touch decision, even as my willpower faded more every day. But that was before.

  Watching Rix study her curves with an eye toward ownership flipped every possessive switch I had. There was no way in fuck I’d let him swoop in and take her because I’d never fucking see her again. Not because Rix would break her or kill her, but because the motherfucker barely let another man near the women he claimed. He owned them. There was no way in hell I was letting him add Elle to his numbers.

  “You sure she’s your woman? She didn’t sound so sure, Lord. In fact, she looked pretty fucking surprised.”

  I had no doubt she did. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about that. Fuck, I’d probably give the girl whiplash if she knew what was happening right now. “If there’s any surprise on her face, it’s because she can feel the giant hard-on she’s giving me just being pressed up against her.”

  My words might have been crude, but they were also true. My dick had sprung a life of its own the second her body
had come into contact with mine.

  “Is that so?” Rix was laying down the challenge, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than put his interest to rest once and for all. He wasn’t buying the act, and I couldn’t let him leave while he had any doubt about Elle being unavailable to him. My brain kicked into gear, but Elle was quicker. She turned her head, and her body followed. She wrapped around me like a vine, hand trailing up my chest and shoulder until it curved around my neck. Her green eyes were sparkling with amusement as she pulled my head down to her level. She was going for it.

  Well fuck, if we were going to do this, we were gonna sell it. And I was going to get the taste of her I’d been denying myself since the first time I’d seen her. I reached down and cupped her ass with both hands and lifted her onto the countertop next to the cash register.

  Her sharp little inhale was one of the sexiest sounds I’d ever heard, and she didn’t miss a beat. She gripped my shoulder with her other hand and held on while I lowered my head to take that luscious mouth. The moment my lips touched hers, I knew I’d made a big fucking mistake: one taste would never be enough.

  Her fingernails dug into the muscles of my shoulder as she opened for me, and my tongue dove inside. Cinnamon and woman. That was Elle. Spicy and sweet. I slid one hand up her back, burying it in her hair so I could tilt her head for better access. My dick, which had already been hard, pulsed against my zipper.

  I’d never been so turned on by a fucking kiss.

  Never.

  I was so goddamn screwed.

  But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

  Elle gripped me tighter, and neither of us did anything but breathe in the other until the sound of the door chime pierced our bubble.

  My head jerked up, not sure who else was catching our show. But I saw no one. Just an empty shop, and out the window, Rix climbed into a blacked-out Caddy. I dropped my eyes to Elle; her pupils were huge, her chest rising and falling on each breath.