“I don’t want you to compromise your location just to give me a call.”
“Don’t be silly. I can’t not speak to my boy,” she gasps out like what I suggested is outrageous. “Now tell me, what is happening? Have you had a date with Harvey yet?”
“Mom …” I groan, looking over at my new old watch to see it has taken her a whole twenty seconds to bring up my dating life, or lack thereof.
“What? I’m concerned. You’re on your own, and Christmas is around the corner,” she cries.
I wince. I know this tone. It’s her guilt-her-son-into-doing-what-she-wants tone.
“I don’t want my boy all alone.”
I sigh heavily in response, wishing things could be different, too.
I have a choice to make. Tell Mom the truth and keep her in the loop with what is happening with Dad, or lie through my teeth to make her feel better.
It’s obvious which choice is best.
“I have seen Harvey. We …” I glance around the office, memories assailing me at the most inappropriate time. Shit, why the hell did I come in here to talk to her?
“You what?” she asks before gasping in excitement. “You went on a date! Did you kiss? He looks like a man who knows how to kiss. Oh, I just knew you two were meant for each other!” I hear clapping and can’t help laughing at her enthusiasm.
“It’s new, Mom. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I fib, deciding this white lie can’t hurt.
“I don’t care. I’m so happy for you, Phoenix. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished at the restaurant, you know that,” she tells me easily. No matter how many times she’s told me, which is a lot, I still feel a rush of pride that she is proud of me. “But I always worry it’s taking up too much of your time. You need a life away from the restaurant, dear. And Harvey, well, he’s perfect,” she gushes.
“Why is he perfect?” I ask, curious to know what she considers perfect about him, especially for me.
“Because you need someone to look out for you, you need someone to tell you when to take it easy, and you need to be protected. Harvey is all those things, wrapped up in a delicious man, who is also trustworthy, reliable, and brave.”
“What are you, his job reference?” I snort. Deep down, I am happy she feels this way, even if it isn’t likely to go in the direction she and I both hope.
I fell asleep last night with Harvey stroking my hair, but I woke up alone. No accidental spooning in the night or fun to be had with any morning wood.
I haven’t even received a message from him today, and I’m not sure if I should expect to see him tonight.
I did get two messages from Teagan. They weren’t invasive, but I’m still concerned about the fact that Harvey specifically pointed out to be careful of her. I should have asked him why when I had the chance.
I can’t read any evil intent from her, since she’s been giving me aspirations to not give up. Maybe she likes me for the moment.
I got one message from Sasha, telling me Harvey looked like he didn’t get any last night and has been a moody bastard all morning. Then, an hour or so later, I got a message from Ava asking for more details on our dinner. Then I got one from Cynthia asking me for more details on Scarlett.
“No,” Mom states, bringing me back to our conversation. “I just want my boy to be happy. So, make me happy. When is your next date?”
I roll my eyes, but decide to kill two birds with one stone. “We’re having dinner with his coworkers on Christmas Eve. They’re coming to the restaurant,” I say truthfully, before my lying begins. “And then we’ll spend Christmas Day together.”
“Oh, really!” Mom cries, which tells me I did the right thing, especially when she bursts into tears. “I was so worried you were going to spend Christmas alone. It’s our first one apart, and I-I—” She hiccups. “I felt so horrible to be away from you. Marty was ready to send the jet out to fetch you.”
I chuckle at the thought of Marty rushing around like a headless chicken trying to make Mom happy.
I love that she is with someone who will do anything, even spend a lot of money, just to cheer her up and make her smile.
“Well, there’s no need. I’m going to miss you like crazy, but I’ll be perfectly content spending it with Harvey. Besides, the restaurant only closes for the one day, and New Zealand isn’t exactly close.”
“You should take a vacation. You work too hard.”
“Mom …” I groan, having had this conversation with her plenty of times.
“I bet Harvey can talk you around. He’ll be good for you. He won’t let you get away with hiding from life.” She sounds smug, and I can picture the look she would be giving me right now if she was in front of me.
“I don’t hide from life. I work.”
“You work too hard. But now you have something that can be more important.”
Is this really what she has been waiting for? Me to find a man who makes me decide my restaurant isn’t important to me anymore?
That will never happen.
“You do know I only just met Harvey. You’re putting a lot of pressure on this.”
“Then I’ll stop mentioning it for now.” Those last two words sound more like a threat. “Just know, I am so happy for you and him. You’re a catch, and he’s lucky my boy likes him.”
I roll my eyes, then glance at the closed door and try to force my thoughts away from how lucky Harvey has gotten with me.
“Right, I’ll be sure to pass that on.”
“Give me his personal number and I’ll pass it on myself.”
“No way. Leave Harvey alone and don’t push this, Mom,” I demand, only slightly worried he might reveal we don’t have Christmas plans together if she talks to him.
“Fine, but promise me you won’t shut yourself off to this. I just want you happy, and I believe Harvey can do that for you.” Her tone turns serious. We are just one octave away from her turning her guilt on me.
“Is this you backing off?”
“Fine.” She sighs dramatically. “Tell me about the restaurant, then.”
“How about you tell me about New Zealand,” I suggest, needing a distraction.
Mom doesn’t disappoint.
***
Leaving the restaurant while bundled up in my winter gear, I don’t take more than a few steps before I search for the shadow that is quickly becoming familiar.
I don’t spot Harvey until he steps out onto the pavement. Then I walk over to him, not knowing what this means or if it means anything at all.
We don’t speak as we shiver our way back to my apartment, and I’m somewhat delighted when we go through the same routine as yesterday. I pass Harvey a bottle of ale, which I went out this morning to buy just for him since I was obviously feeling optimistic. Then I go take a shower and wrap my towel around me as I make my way into my room.
This time, I did consider taking fresh clothes in with me, but decided not to.
Maybe that was a mistake, or maybe it’s just sad on my behalf. Regardless, I don’t read too much into it, hoping Harvey doesn’t, either.
I notice he has removed his jacket and folded it neatly on the floor beside his boots. It takes me a second to recognize and process that on the floor, also folded neatly, are his jeans.
I gulp, feeling his eyes on me as I give him my back. I’m not sure he will be impressed with my cock that is hardening from just imagining him partially naked in my bed.
Dressed, I quickly scoot under the covers and sneak a peek to see Harvey still has his briefs on and socks over his feet. Well, it’s an improvement.
I curl onto my side, my body feeling well enough now not to need any pain meds. I look up at him as he fans his hand over my head again, tangling his fingers in my hair.
“Your bruises are getting better,” he says.
I wish they would heal a hell of a lot quicker. The slight jabs at work, good natured or not, are beginning to annoy me.
“You seemed to have come out of it a lot better than I did,” I
grumble, not that I’m sad about it, but he had two men going for him and is only sporting a dull bruise over his cheek and forehead.
“I doubt that,” he says slyly before moving his hand away from me so he can lift his shirt up.
I’m not stupid. I know almost instantly that this is an incredible chance to ogle, and I’m not one to waste it, so I quickly sit up, the blanket falling to my lap, as I stare over his chest.
First, I’m shocked at the bruises littering his body, all nasty colors. Then I’m furious at what happened to him. Then I see the few small cuts at his ribs, all healing, and clearly from the glass that cut him at the Christmas party. I’m sure his legs and back look much worse, as well as his arm that had the jagged piece wedged into him.
All too soon, I’m desperate to touch him, to place my hands over his body, but I resist, simply feasting my eyes over him instead.
His olive skin is flawless where it isn’t bruised or cut. Muscles and drool-worthy abs have my brain misfiring when I attempt to come up with anything witty to say. I literally have to fist my hands to stop myself from running my fingers through the hair over his chest, noting that it’s thicker up top then dwindles over his lower waistline before the trail kicks back in. Unfortunately, his briefs and the blanket hide the rest from my gaze.
Harvey keeps his shirt up longer than is appropriate, and when he tries to pull it down, my brain finally catches up.
“Wait, I’m not done looking,” I drawl.
He rolls his eyes at me, but he can’t keep the smirk off his face. “It’s fucking cold in here,” is his only reply.
I pout when the shirt goes back down. “Then get under the fucking covers,” I grumble, taking my own advice and curling back up on my side.
“The slope is already slippery enough,” he mumbles, his hand moving seemingly unconsciously back to my hair before he becomes aware of his actions and holds himself back.
Damn.
“Then, what is a little more? Being warm and next to me isn’t going to change anything. I can keep my hands to myself if you can.” I say this like I believe it. Deep down, I don’t trust my own statement. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?
He eyes me for a moment longer before he flips off the bedside lamp then slides his ass down the bed and lies flat on his back, looking tense as hell as my eyes adjust to the dark.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why do you stay here if it makes you that uncomfortable?” I finally ask.
I don’t have curtains or blinds in my room. I only ever sleep at nighttime, and I like that the light in the morning helps wake me up. Now it has the added bonus that the lights from outside keep my room from falling completely into pitch black.
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
“You are,” I argue, unable to hold back a laugh. I have never seen someone look so much in pain from just lying next to me.
“I’ve never been in this position before,” he admits.
“And what position is that?” I bite my lip from turning his words into something sexual.
Something tells me that turning us in that direction is a sure way to get Harvey leaping out of my bed. And while I would like to be able to touch him, haul myself next to him, and soak in his warmth at the very least, I will take what he’s willing to give me now over nothing at all.
“I like you, Nix.” He says this like he’s admitting he’s not perfect, like he’s revealing a fault in his persona.
“You’ve never liked anyone before?” I guess, questioning if that is even possible. It would explain why the women said I was a unicorn.
“Not a client.”
“Then you’re fired,” I quickly retort, watching his face break into a breathtaking smile.
“Nice try.”
“You know, I didn’t even hire you. I’m not sure I need you to do anything other than stay alive.”
He shakes his head along the pillow, his eyes not leaving my face. “I’m not leaving you to deal with whatever is coming alone.”
“And I appreciate that, but you can help me deal with this as my friend, you know. I don’t have to be some client.”
“I don’t really do friends.”
“Do you mean do friends as in have them, or do friends as in do friends?”
He rolls his eyes now, shifting so he is on his side facing me, and leans on his elbow, almost seeming to loom over me. “Is everything about sex with you?”
“Not usually, but weirdly enough, it tends to be that way when I’m in bed with someone who promised to fuck me just a couple days ago then backed out.”
“Nix …” Harvey groans as he flips back to his back.
“Okay, fine,” I sigh, trying to think of something else to talk about. “You seriously don’t have friends?”
Sadly, other than my mom, my only other friend would be Scarlett. All my friends have drifted away over the years.
Maybe Mom was right about me not having a life outside the restaurant?
“Well, I like the guys. My best friend is Teagan, and her partner Joey and I have gotten close this past year.”
“Teagan is your best friend?” I ask, processing this.
Is that why she’s the scariest? Because she’s the most protective?
“Yeah.” He has a smile back on his lips. “She crashed into my life about a year and a half ago.” His smile almost automatically dims.
“What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your smile just disappeared.”
“I’m just tired, Nix.”
He sends me clear vibes of not wanting to go into this, so whatever it is we inadvertently touched upon, I decide is off limits.
“I spoke to my mom today,” I give in and change the topic.
“Oh yeah? How is she?”
“Good.” Now I’m the one with the smile. “She couldn’t stop telling me how fucking warm it is. She’s excited to have a summer Christmas.”
I swallow down the emotion that tries to surface. I have never spent any real length of time away from her, and now that she is gone and with no idea for how long, I find that I miss her terribly.
“That’s good. I’d take a summer Christmas without hesitation,” Harvey admits.
“I don’t know. I love the snow, and the songs don’t really make sense if you’re sweating balls. Besides, how boring would the photos be with no ugly sweaters?” I point out, hoping to distract myself.
“You sound like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Well, she mentioned sending Marty’s private jet to pick me up. It’ll be the first Christmas I’ve ever had without her,” I finally admit.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know what part you’re surprised by, but yes to both. My dad is a fuckhead, but my mom has always been there for me. We don’t have other family, yet she’s always made a big production of the day.”
“So, why not just leave?” He sounds genuinely confused, like the idea of me staying here and making sure my father doesn’t put another hit out on him doesn’t make sense.
“Many reasons. My restaurant is only closed one day, and it’s hard enough getting people to turn up for shifts this time of year, let alone the boss disappearing. And then there is my dad. It makes me nervous that he’s gone quiet. I wish we could just get whatever it is I have to do over with so I can put him behind me.”
“He knows he has you, Nix,” Harvey says softly, shifting to his side again so he can look at me directly.
“What does that mean?”
“He knows he can pull your strings. What’s to stop him from doing this again another time? It might not be my life he threatens again, but you have friends and a business you love.”
I groan, covering my face with my hands as I suddenly feel despair so huge that it tries to engulf me.
“I’m not trying to upset you,” Harvey says uncertainly as he pulls me forward with tentative hands until I’m against his side. Then he wraps me up in his arm
s.
I move my hands away, resting my head against his chest, and take a few deep breaths to try to ward away the hopelessness, but it doesn’t work.
“What the hell do I do, then? I can’t do this for the rest of my life.”
“You won’t have to. I’m going to help you through this, and I’m going to make sure your father can’t get to you or anyone ever again.”
I nod against his side, trying to believe that is possible, yet I’m not convinced.
Even arrested and in jail, my father still has pull. What more can possibly stop his hold over me, short of him dying? And I somehow don’t think Harvey is talking about taking a hit out on my own father.
“I hope you’re right,” I murmur, closing my eyes, listening to the steady cadence of Harvey’s heartbeat and enjoying this stolen moment of intimacy.
If only it could last longer.
Chapter 8
I have two, quiet, easy hours of the lunch shift before I watch Sasha and Teagan waltz in. A man who doesn’t look like Sasha’s fiancé accompanies them. Then again, I did only see Declan at the party for a few moments. Before the shooting, I was too busy freaking out over breaking into Harvey’s office, and after, I was too busy being in shock to take a lot of notice.
Sasha is holding his hand, or maybe she’s dragging the poor bugger inside. Either way, they are all approaching the bar. I know this could easily go downhill quickly.
“Hi, Teagan, Sasha.” I nod to them, not expecting Sasha to grab my shirt, pull me halfway over the bar, then kiss my cheek like we are close friends rather than just knowing each other less than a week.
“Nix, it’s so good to see you again,” she gushes, her smile bright. Then she waits expectantly for who knows what.
“Right, good to see you, too,” I finally say, not sure I quite pull off sounding sincere. “And your friend?” I ask purely because I can’t think what else she wants me to say while still looking expectantly at me.
“I’m so glad you asked!” She grins even brighter, and I suddenly wonder what she is playing at. “This is Conner. He’s my incredibly hot, smart, funny, single friend.” She introduces, and Conner turns bright red.
I Broke Into His Office (Love at First Crime Book 4) Page 9
