by Stacey Lynn
She never liked Mara, but never said anything. It was simply obvious with her quiet hums of displeasure, or the looks she’d shoot my dad when Mara and I were around them. At the time, I figured it was just because I was the baby of the family, the last to settle down, and my mom was having a hard time letting go.
Now I knew it was just her sixth sense about the eventual destruction of our relationship. Moms really did know everything.
Except for Trina’s.
My lips curled into a growl as I walked back to the kitchen and filled my coffee mug with fresh coffee.
That woman. What I wouldn’t give to demand she apologize to her daughter for forcing her to live through something so vile. She had thrown her daughter to the wolves for money, and I found it difficult to summon any compassion for her, even if she did it because of her illness.
My mother would never do anything like that. She’d given up her career to stay home and raise us as soon as my older brother was born. She lived through raising two boys—two hell-raising, football- and hockey-playing sons—with a husband who was just another large kid to take care of. Yet she never seemed to mind. In fact, she always said that looking back, the best days of her life were when her laundry room was overflowing with sweaty socks and piles of sports equipment.
If my mom were to get sick like Trina’s had, I had no doubt she’d move heaven and earth to see that my brother and I were taken care of, even if it was at her own expense. She was just that kind of mom.
If it wasn’t so damn early, or the middle of the night in Arizona, I’d pick up the damn phone and call her just to let her know how much I loved her.
Yeah…I might be a bit of a mama’s boy.
That was only because she showed her family what love was.
I was an idiot who settled, far too soon, for a woman I let pull the wool over my eyes because her pussy tasted sweet.
I sneered and looked outside to see Boomer meandering back to the door. I met him there, quickly slid the door open, and closed it behind him when he came in. He gave me a dopey look. I swear he was almost grinning as I fed him.
I left the kitchen to the sounds of Boomer slopping up his food while I went to the living room and turned on the news.
But as hard as I tried to erase the thoughts about what Trina told us that were still clamoring inside my brain, it was entirely futile.
I had completely misjudged her when I first saw her and when I first invited her into my home. Even with the fading, fancy hair color and the polished, manicured nails, she was nothing like Mara.
Trina might have had money, but the more she spoke last night, the more she seemed to loathe her wealth. At the very least, she despised what it could do to people.
I should have known from the first night I saw her.
No woman who looked like her, who had the money she clearly did, dug through a dumpster to find her dog dinner.
Now that I knew the truth, had seen her for who she really was, I wasn’t sure I could stay away.
I was definitely sure I didn’t want to.
There was something about this woman, with her southern drawl and kind eyes, that made me despise any man who would lay his hands on her.
She was the kind of woman you cherish.
The kind of woman you wanted to protect.
And hell if I didn’t want to do both of those…while also acquainting my hands with her soft and curvy flesh.
I didn’t even care if it was the right time to start something with her. She had loads of baggage I would need to help her unpack, and that had nothing to do with the duffel bag she was trying to haul out of here last night when I returned home.
But as I sat and stared at the early-morning news broadcast, not actually hearing anything I was watching, I no longer gave a shit.
No good relationship was without its share of troubles.
We’d just have to fight our battles early on and hope for smooth sailing later.
—
My breathing was ragged when I finished my morning run. I had used all the frustration inside me and pushed myself harder and faster than I usually did. It was necessary, and the results were worth it.
I no longer felt like slamming my fists into something hard and unforgiving as I unlocked the front door to my house.
Before Trina, I would have left it unlocked.
Since Trina began staying with me, I was doing a lot of things differently.
Like keep her safe, as if it were some inherent instinct inside of me. Knowing the truth about who she was, where she came from, and what she’d endured only strengthened that desire inside of me.
Fortunately, she told us that Kevin had only called her phone number and goaded her by asking if she really thought she could run away from him. Since she also told us that she had ditched her old cellphone and bought the pay-as-you-go phone before she left Kentucky, there was still a good chance he didn’t have a clue where she could be.
I’d managed to get her to agree to stay until Tyson could look into things a bit further, to figure out if Kevin really knew where she was.
I was careful to open the front door quietly, in case she was still sleeping. It was early, before seven, and I’d learned that Trina was not a morning person. She often zombie-walked her way down the stairs around nine.
Between the stress she was under and being at Fireside until the early morning hours, I figured her body needed to adjust to a new routine.
Plus, I suspected sleeping in wasn’t possible for her before. From what she’d said, she had been expected to wait on her husband for every one of his needs and wants or face the consequences.
I believed her, too. Not only did she not have a reason to lie to us last night, but the fear in her eyes was evident as she relived some of the times where Kevin used a hand, or foot, to reprimand her.
The thought made me growl and, at the last second, I thrust the door open harder than necessary, making it bang against the wall.
I cringed at the sound and then at Boomer’s bark as he barreled around the corner from the kitchen straight into me.
His front paws hit my chest, forcing me to brace myself to keep from taking a step back.
“Boomer!” Trina shouted from the kitchen.
“I’ve got him,” I called back. With my hand on the top of his head, I gave him a playful shove. “Down, boy.”
“Woof!”
His tongue lolled to one side of his mouth as he pranced in place, waiting impatiently for me to shut the door. When I turned back to him, dropping my phone, earbuds, and keys on the small table with the ugly purple bowl, I rubbed his head again. “I’ve already fed you,” I told the dog, and walk passed him.
The rich scent of bacon assailed my senses and my stomach growled. I generally had a protein shake before I headed out for my run and workout, but this morning I had extra adrenaline to burn off and I didn’t waste the time.
I was not only starving, but sweating like a beast.
The shower could wait, I decided as I headed toward the kitchen.
When I got to the doorway, I was stunned speechless when I saw Trina at the stove, frying bacon wearing a tight, fitted tank top and a pair of even tighter shorts. She twisted to place bacon on a plate, and I could see her leg muscles flex.
Words lodged in my throat. She was sexy. Curves and muscles in all the right places. My fingers itched to trace the line of her exposed collarbone down her arms to her fingertips to the inside of her wrist where I wanted to feel her pulse. Would it race as fast as mine currently was?
“Good morning,” I barked out, sounding rude and rougher than normal.
“Morning,” she muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on her task.
Bacon grease spit into the air, and I knew she was concentrating, but I still scowled when she refused to look in my direction.
It had been a couple of days since I’d seen that tightness in her shoulders, or the way she avoided me.
“You okay?” I asked and walk past her fo
r a fresh cup of coffee. The pot was full again, which meant she recently brewed some more. “You had a rough night last night.”
I watched her back.
“Yeah. Sure.” She paused and looked at me over her shoulder. “Why? Did I say anything?”
I sipped my coffee and shook my head. “No. Do you normally?”
She turned around and I watched as one shoulder lifted then fell. “Sometimes.” She reached out and turned off the burner, plating the rest of the bacon. “Bacon’s ready if you’re hungry.”
Still without meeting my eyes, she wiped her hands on a towel and turned to leave the room.
My kitchen was small and U-shaped. With one adult, there was barely room to move around. With two adults and a large oaf of a dog, we should have been tripping over each other. Instead, she was trying to keep as much distance as possible between us.
“Trina?”
She paused but still didn’t face me.
My brows knit together as I tried to figure out why she was avoiding me.
Whatever the reason, I didn’t like it.
“You avoiding me?”
“No. Of course not.”
Her cheeks flushed pink and her gaze dropped. The involuntary actions belied her words and I set my mug down, taking a step toward her.
“You embarrassed about last night?” I asked.
“No. I don’t care that you know about Kevin.”
“I’m not talking about Kevin, sweetheart,” I whispered, and unable to stop myself, I lifted my hand to press her hair behind her ear. Small bumps prickled on the side of her neck and I watched her body’s reaction to me, even as she tried to fight it.
But she was fighting it.
Which meant the attraction wasn’t one-sided.
Something warm, like pride, or the thrill of a victory, surged inside my chest.
“I’m talking about me sleeping next to you in your bed.”
She made a choking sound and looked toward the dining area. Away from me.
I didn’t know if I should push this or not, but I did. I didn’t think it was embarrassing at all that not only did she need me last night, but that she’d had the guts to ask. She might have been half-asleep and not fully aware of what she was doing, which might be a blow to my ego if I believed it.
Luckily, I have a large ego—among other things.
“Why should that embarrass me?” she asked, her voice slightly scratchy. The pink was back in full bloom on her cheeks and my hand, which had been resting behind her ear, moved until I brushed her cheekbone with my thumb.
“It shouldn’t,” I told her. “And if you’re embarrassed, or upset that you woke up alone, it’s only because you felt so good in my arms and next to me that I had to leave before I did something we might regret.”
“You…” Another garbled sound escaped her throat before she looked up. “What did you say?”
I chuckled softly, just once, and slid my hand down to cup the side of her throat. My fingertips pressed gently into the skin at the back of her neck, holding her firmly.
“I’m attracted to you, Trina, and I like you. I also know you had a lot of emotional stuff to deal with last night, and you have to deal with your husband, too. I’m not pushing anything”—I paused and grinned—“yet. But I want you to know that I want to explore something with you, and lying next to you all night, your warm, tight body against mine, not pushing you into something you might not want, or might not be ready for, had my self-control at its limit.”
She blinked several times and her lips parted.
She looked so damn cute, so utterly confused. I had the urge to kiss her. Here. Now.
But I didn’t.
I took a step back and then another before I turned and reached for my coffee. When I looked back at her, she was finally snapping her mouth closed.
I shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Just think about it. Let me know what you decide. No pressure.”
A bit of gentle nudging in the right direction—my direction—might occur, though.
After several beats of silence, she muttered, “I need to shower.”
She walked away and I couldn’t help chuckling while she did.
“Woof!”
I looked down at Boomer sitting at my heels. His tail flopped against a wooden chair leg and his big dopey eyes were fixed on mine. He almost looked like he was smiling.
“Yeah, I know, boy. I think she likes me, too.”
Chapter 10
Trina
“It’s completely packed out there,” I said, brushing stray hairs off my sticky forehead. With the sudden rush of afternoon customers—most of them men drinking beer as if Prohibition began at midnight—and the heat from the kitchen, my black Fireside Grill shirt was sticking to my back and my makeup was smearing more every minute.
I looked like a wreck.
I felt even worse, in that bone-numbing sort of way.
I was exhausted.
“It’s football Sunday,” Declan said, shaking his head even though he was smiling.
He’d been doing that all day.
Flashing me an impish grin whenever he caught me looking at him. Which, admittedly, had been a lot. I was still trying to figure him out, flesh out his motives, or a fuller understanding of what he meant this morning.
I had felt so flustered as I walked away from him, and so distracted in my shower, that I nearly forgot to wash my hair. Fortunately, since we’d opened this morning, the crowd had been nonstop, coming and going and needy. These football fans were so very stinking needy. All of the activity kept my mind from lingering on the tender way Declan brushed my hair behind my ear this morning, or the simple way he stated that he was attracted to me.
Me? The woman who was not only still healing from physical bruises but was an emotional basket case?
If he was attracted to someone like me, he had a few screws loose, as my nana used to say.
“People should be at church and brunch,” I muttered, letting my southern accent flow nice and strong. “It’s the Lord’s day. Don’t you Yankees know that?”
Declan threw his head back and laughed, taking a quick break from flipping beef patties on a full grill.
These football fans could eat and drink in serious quantities.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said and punched in another order for nachos and buffalo burgers. There were three computers in the restaurant where we could make our orders, but I was using the one in the kitchen. I needed a quiet place to get some space, away from all the mayhem going on out front.
No one had complained, either, even though I didn’t think it was common for servers to use it.
“Wait until hockey season strikes,” Declan replied, “You haven’t seen rabid fans until we have a bar full of Red Wings fans.”
My nose scrunched up. Hockey wasn’t my thing. At all. It always seemed so unnecessarily violent, what with men being tossed into walls and beaten with sticks.
“Yeah. We’ll see,” I whispered, more to myself than Declan. Come hockey season, I might be in another state. Or another country.
Despite my agreement not to do anything rash last night, after Tyson assured me that he would spend some time looking into Kevin and see what he could find out about him looking for me, I hadn’t altogether dismissed the idea of just taking off.
My cellphone seemed to burn inside my back pocket. I tried not to check it to see if Kevin had tried calling again, but I couldn’t help myself. His phone call last night reminded me that there really was a risk to staying.
Now I wasn’t only risking myself, but Declan.
Yet seeing Declan this morning, admitting that the reason he left my bed last night was because it was too hard for him to not touch me, lit a small spark inside me.
Desire.
That was what I felt when I looked at him. I couldn’t remember feeling anything like that since perhaps my wedding night with Kevin, when I still thought I was Cinderella and my Prince Charming had j
ust slipped the glass slipper onto my foot.
I certainly quit desiring anything to do with Kevin weeks later, when he hit me for the first time. Not that his physical desire for me waned any.
I shuddered at the thought, and then jumped when Declan’s hand reached out and slid along my shoulder.
“What just happened?”
“What?” I asked, turning to face him. At the same time, I took a step back, moving away from him. His hand hovered in the air before he crossed both arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you just turned white as a ghost.” His eyes narrowed and I felt my pulse kick up in my throat.
I swallowed and squeezed my eyes closed. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”
His lips pressed together, forming a tense, straight line as he evaluated my truthfulness. “About?”
“Nothing, Declan. I swear.” I lifted up my order pad and nodded toward the kitchen door. We were too busy for either of us to be standing around chatting. Plus, I wanted to avoid this particular conversation for as long as humanly possible. “I need to get back out there and help Katie.”
“You’ll tell me later.”
“Let it go,” I said, pleading with my eyes. He wouldn’t. I already knew it. If there was one thing I was beginning to learn about Declan, it was that he took protecting someone to extremes.
He nodded once and his arms dropped to his sides. “For now, I will. But you’ll tell me, once I’ve earned your trust.”
That small, impish grin came back, along with a sparkle in his rich-brown eyes, like he’d already decided he knew he was going to get it, and he didn’t care how long it took.
The fact that he was probably right, that he already did have my trust, wasn’t something I felt like sharing at the moment.
But as my cheeks heated under the weight of his knowing gaze, I couldn’t help but feel another shudder run through me as I headed out through the kitchen doors. Except that time, the shudder was much more pleasurable. And it made me think it wouldn’t be dangerous at all to toss caution to the wind and admit to Declan that I wanted him, too.
—
“I still can’t get over how busy today was,” I told Declan as I helped him close out the cash registers in the bar. It’d become our nightly ritual when he was letting me fill in or work the floor. He sent the bartenders home early and then he and I stayed behind to close out the tills.
