Double Shot to the Heart (Brewed Moon Book 2)

by Critch, J. Margot

  “You’re a micro-manager?” Mitch laughed. “I’ve been accused of that.”

  “Yeah, kind of. The café is my baby. I do love it, except sometimes it’s a little hard on the feet.” Juliana unconsciously reached down and began to rub her foot. “But a nice, hot bath definitely cures what ails ya."

  Putting his wine glass on the table, Mitch slapped his palm in his lap. "Bring those up here."

  Juliana regarded him skeptically. "Oh, it's okay. They don't hurt now."

  "Give 'em here," he insisted. She turned to recline against the arm of the couch, and when she put her bare feet in his lap, he placed his hands gently on them, smoothing over her feet, warming them. His thumbs kneaded the underside, and he rolled his knuckles along her arches. She bit back the sigh that formed in her throat.

  He was quiet for a bit, concentrating on his task. “So, we’ve discussed friends, family, pasts, and jobs. What about a love life?” he asked her.

  She laughed. "A love life? There really hasn't been anyone since I opened the cafe. Just a couple of dates here and there that Azura and Erica have tried to set me up with.” She grimaced at the memory of those blind dates. And then her mind flashed to Mr. Fox at Leather & Lace. But she wasn’t about to get into her anonymous hook-ups, or her membership at a sex club with Mitch. “I’ve never really been looking for a serious relationship. Never sought it out. I guess I just always assumed the right guy would find me, in time.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “You don’t see any men at all?”

  As Mitch’s hands smoothed over her feet, she thought about her mystery man again. But she wasn’t about to let Mitch in on the big secret in her life. “I wouldn’t say that,” she winked at him. "How about yourself, Mitch? Any nice ladies catching your eye lately?"

  Mitch was still for a moment; his fingers warm around her feet. "Just one," he replied quietly, full of meaning. She held her breath for what he might say next. Instead, he straightened. "But no, like you, a serious relationship has never been on my radar. There just isn’t time for that.” he paused briefly. "My job doesn't normally lend itself to fostering a healthy relationship. Long hours. unpredictability, I could get called at any time. Not to mention that certain element of danger..."

  Juliana watched him over the rim of her wine glass. The man completely understood her. They were alike in so many ways, and there was no denying that there was chemistry between them. Maybe it was just the stress of the past couple of days, the adrenaline of almost dying, or the fact that she’d woken up in his arms that morning, but she felt the same hot desire for him that had been coursing throughout her for days. Her encounters with her mystery man were hot. But she knew that Mitch would leave her feeling the same satisfaction, if not more. Judging from the confident, sure way he moved, how he commanded every room, the way that he touched her, she knew that Mitch would surely give Mr. Fox a run for his money in the pleasure department. She felt a need for Mitch stirring deeply in her belly, and then lower, vibrating from the sexual tension she felt between them. And from the way he looked at her, she knew she wasn't the only one affected.

  She nodded, her eyes locked on his. "So, you have to just grab romantic moments when you can?” Juliana noticed the curious hot flash in his eyes. "That feels amazing. Where did you learn to give a foot rub like this?”

  He cleared his throat huskily. “Ah, one of those romantic moments I grabbed was with a massage therapy student some years ago, when I was a rookie. The relationship was short-lived, and eventually fizzled out. But I was kind of her guinea pig, and she taught me a few things.”

  Juliana felt his sure hands smooth out a persistent knot near her heel and she moaned. “Sounds like it was a rough gig.”

  “There definitely were perks, especially after a long day at work. So, I didn’t feel bad about accepting a few free massages here and there. You know, I needed a little me time,” he chuckled.

  Juliana sighed, speaking slowly and quietly. “I don’t blame you. There’s nothing that relaxes you or gets the kinks out like a good rub down.”

  Mitch blinked at her words as they zipped through Mitch, and desire shot straight to his cock. He looked down at her, and saw that she met his gaze, reflecting the same desire. He continued rolling his thumbs around each of her ankles. He took a chance, and slowly his hands ventured further up her legs. His fingers worked their way up her calf, massaging the muscle, up to her knee, and back down again. Even though she was wearing leggings, the material was thin, and he could still feel the electric shock from touching her. He massaged her calf muscles, and his hands moved over her. He stroked the sensitive spot behind her knee, and massaged her thigh muscle, his fingers testing her, as he trailed his fingertips over on her inner thigh. She parted her legs slightly, only a small movement, but he understood her meaning, giving him permission to proceed. He held his breath as he touched her higher, going further.

  He heard a light, breathy sound and looked at Juliana’s face, her eyes were closed and he realized that in a matter of seconds, she had fallen asleep. He removed his hands from her legs and shifted so that he could put his arms underneath her body, one arm in the bend of her knee, and the other cupped around her shoulder blades, he scooped up her body, and gathered her close. He lifted her, and she didn’t stir on the walk to his bedroom, except to curl more tightly into the wall of his chest. She was vulnerable, small and light in his arms. And he noted that she fit perfectly against him, like she belonged there.

  Still holding her, with one arm, he pulled back the duvet on his bed. He lowered her onto the bed as carefully as he could, and he pulled the blanket over her. He stripped off his shirt and jeans, and wearing his boxer briefs and a t-shirt slipped into bed beside her. Again, she didn’t wake, but as if on instinct, she rolled over and curled into his chest. Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around her. This was new to him. He had never shared a bed with a woman, except after sex. He was still hard, but despite the growing desire for her in his midsection, he put all thoughts of sex out of his mind, and just enjoyed holding Juliana, until the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had overtook him.

  Chapter 15

  The next day, Juliana was relieved to be standing behind the counter at Brewed Moon. The yellow police tape had been ripped away from the store front, the body had been removed from the back alley, and all the police officers had vacated. Brewed Moon looked the same as it ever had, but the café still felt different. It felt wrong, as if some heavy, black energy had surrounded the place, and it couldn’t be diminished by the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. She still hadn’t been able to walk down the back hallway – the one that led to her office, the stock room and the service door that led to the alley. The one where she’d witnessed the murder. Throughout the morning, she had cast glances in the direction of the alley, and she’d admonished herself for not being brave enough to face it.

  Mitch’s only condition of her going back to work, was that one of his men stay with her, to keep an eye on things. She’d told him that she didn’t want some tough, brooding man in her café scaring off the customers, so they’d compromised, and agreed that her surveillance team would stay in a car, parked across the street, where they could keep an eye on the goings-on inside the café through the front windows.

  She and Azura were working behind the counter. It was busy, and the café was full of customers, most were concerned regulars, other were gawkers, wondering what nefarious crime had happened on the premises in the previous days. But Juliana wasn’t talking about it, and said only that she was glad to be reopened and thankful for the all of the support she’d gotten from the community. But she was lying when she told them that everything was back to normal. Because it wasn’t. And every time she looked out the front windows, it was confirmed when she saw the shrewd eyes of Steve, Peter, Joe or Mitch, depending whose shift it was, watching her from across the street. And while she didn’t like being the subject of close surveillance, it did make her feel safer.

  Whil
e she worked, her mind was miles away, but thankfully her hands moved from muscle memory and long-ingrained habits. She wasn’t thinking about the murder, though, she thought about Mitch and the two previous nights she’d spent in his bed, wrapped up in his arms. They hadn’t discussed it, nor had they talked about what had happened on his couch - they’d both opened up, speaking honestly, telling each other about their past, but she shivered when she remembered the way his hands had worked their way up her thigh. And then she remembered fighting to keep her eyes open, as sleep overtook her, and then the next thing she knew, it was morning, and she woke up alone in his bed.

  Juliana looked up at the line-up that had once again formed, along her counter. Who knew a murder would be so good for business? She poured a medium decaf coffee for the next person in line and instead of sliding it across the counter, she dropped it on the floor. She and Azura both jumped back in time, avoiding being splashed by the hot liquid. As she looked at the discarded cup in the floor, it was the reminder that she needed to focus on the work she was doing, and put everything else out of her mind. She mopped up the mess, and refocussed her energy to address the caffeine needs of the customers at her counter.

  Once the rush died down, Juliana was able to catch a break from the madness, though she knew that a stack of paperwork waited for her on her desk. So, shoring up her confidence, she took a deep breath, and walked quickly, almost running, past the alleyway door, to her office. She made it inside her office, and closed the door behind her. She was both pleased and disappointed with herself, and she hoped that soon she would feel better about making her way around her own business.

  The first step to getting back to normal, however, waited for her at her desk. She sat behind it and addressed the pile of orders, invoices and other paperwork that had gone neglected the past few days. She was deep in work when a soft knock on the door caught her attention. “Yeah?” she called out.

  Azura opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt you, Jules,” she said. “But there are some men outside who want to talk to you.”

  “Police?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t look like cops.”

  “Really?” Juliana wracked her brain. She hadn’t scheduled any appointments for the morning, but vendors would sometimes stop by unannounced. She shrugged and stood. “Thanks, Az.”

  When Juliana walked out into the café, she saw, besides some filled tables, two men, both were tall, broad and wearing all black. Their matching leather jackets were open as they stood near the door, their arms crossed. A niggling of apprehension made its way up her spine, but she tried to dismiss it, blaming it on her increased paranoia from the events of the past couple of days. If there was any real danger, Steve would see and come inside. “I’m the owner, how can I help you gentlemen?” She extended her hand to shake theirs.

  “Are you Juliana Lark?” one of them asked her, the man was handsome, ruggedly so, and his Russian accent was charming, but his cold eyes were not.

  She bristled, pulling her unshaken hand back from him. “That’s me. What can I do for you?”

  “We’d like to talk to you,” the other told her. “Can we go to your office?”

  “Ah, it’s a bit of a mess right now, I’m catching up on a few things,” she said. She didn’t want to go anywhere private with the men. Her intuition was telling her not to, and she gestured to a nearby table. “We can talk out here.”

  The men exchanged a look, but they chose not to sit. “Ms. Lark, we would like to talk to you about purchasing some insurance.”

  She narrowed her eyes. The men certainly didn’t look like salesmen. She shook her head. “I’ve got insurance,” she told them. “Thanks, though.”

  “You can never be too careful,” he responded.

  The other leaned in. “You know, Ms. Lark, this is a pretty bad neighbourhood. You might need a little bit of an extra guarantee that you and your property are safe. It might even stop another murder from happening on your grounds.”

  They were threatening her, and she was suddenly on edge. She looked over them to the parking lot where Steve’s car had sat all day. It was gone, and she frowned, suddenly feeling alone. But she calmed herself. She’d been so helpless lately, and this was a situation she could handle. She was strong, and she would show those men that she wasn’t afraid nor would she be intimidated. “Sorry gentlemen, I’m not interested.” She stepped back. “Now if you’ll excuse me-”

  The one closer to her gripped her arm, as she turned around. “We’ll give you a day to consider our offer. If we don’t hear from you. Well,” he glanced around the café, “we know where to find you.”

  “Was that a threat?”

  The first man smiled, the friendly gesture did nothing to comfort her. “Not at all, merely a… strong recommendation,” he winked before they turned to walk out the door.

  Mitch walked through the station, and scanned the busy room for the men he was looking for. Soon he spied both Don Smith and Mike Roberts at their desks. A box of doughnuts and mugs of coffee sat between them as they casually kicked back and discussed sports, TV, everything but actual police work, or trying to find the bastards that committed a murder outside of Brewed Moon and shot up the safe house, almost killing him and Juliana.

  “Hey guys,” Mitch walked up to them, attempting his best friendly voice. “How’s it going?”

  “Swanson,” Roberts greeted him, and pushed the box of pastries toward him. “Doughnut?”

  “No thanks, I already ate lunch,” he waved it away. He hadn’t eaten since early that morning, but he didn’t want to take anything from the men. “I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

  “Shoot,” Smith told him, sitting up.

  “Do you guys have anything on the Brewed Moon shooting, or the one from the safe house from the other night?” Mitch asked them.

  “Nothing yet,” he responded, nonchalant.

  “No leads? What about the footprints in the snow? The sedan that was parked on the street? The man my guy saw go into the woods.”

  Roberts shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing yet.”

  Mitch felt his blood pressure rise. If these guys couldn’t have cared less about the attack on a fellow policeman, a civilian and department property, how did they ever do their work when it came to solving regular, more mundane cases? Mitch knew then that if there was any chance of finding the gunman, he and his team would have to do it on their own, off the books.

  “Alright, that’s what I thought,” he muttered. He turned to walk away, knowing that if he spoke to the men any longer, he would be in severe danger of throwing punches.

  “Wait, Swanson,” Smith called after him. He turned back. “That woman, your witness, she’s pretty hot. I heard you guys got pretty friendly at the crime scene. And you were staying with her in the safe house?”

  Mitch tamped down the ire that rose in his body, and he squeezed his hands into fists. But he forced himself to remain calm. At work, he had to at least feign camaraderie with the incompetent men in front of him. “Yeah, I was there when the attempt was made on her life. She’s a friend. We were both almost killed in the shoot-out that you should be investigating.”

  Smith chuckled. “I wish some of my friends looked like her. Why you so invested, Swanson? You hittin’ that?”

  Mitch worked his jaw back and forth. The fact that they were talking about a witness, a woman, Juliana, like that made his blood boil. He wanted to deck both of the men in front of him, but while he was within the confines of the precinct, and under the constant eye of Captain Lewis, he had to be on his best behaviour. “No. I’m not hittin’ that. I’m just wondering if you guys got off your asses long enough to find who was trying to kill both of us.”

  “It’s not that hard to figure out, Mitch, it was definitely a Russian job, trying to shut up a witness.” Roberts started. “But without any witnesses at the safe house, and no surveillance cameras at the downtown crime scene, there isn’t much we can do.”

  Mitch
would have chased down those in the know in the Russian mafia family, he would have dug deep, talked to people, gone undercover, beaten an answer out of anyone who might have one. But Mitch knew that neither Roberts nor Smith would put any time into finding the gunmen, or putting Petrova behind bars. Fucking cowards. “Keep up the good work, guys,” he said, pushing past them, formulating a plan. Those were exactly the things that he and his team were going to do.

  He made his way across the floor of the precinct, and by the time he got to the closed door of the war room, Mitch had, in anger, chewed the inside of his cheek raw. He pushed his way in through the door, swearing, muttering to himself. “Goddammit, useless motherfuckers…”

  “Good afternoon to you too, sunshine,” Peter greeted him from his desk.

  Mitch’s fists were still clenched, and he shook his head. “Roberts and Smith. I need to call Steve, and get him to look into them. Something isn’t right with those two.”

  “Steve’s right here,” Steve announced in the third person, raising his hand from his place in the corner of the room.

  Mitch whipped around, surprised to see him there. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Steve squinted his eyes in confusion. “I’m waiting for you to show up.”

  “Why? Who’s with Juliana? Why did you leave your post?”

  “You tell me,” he said, pulled out his phone. “You texted me, Mitch.” He read from the screen. “Get to HQ. ASAP. Juliana’s covered. Back-up on its way.”

  Mitch stalked across the room. “I didn’t text you.” He looked at Steve’s phone, and saw that the message had somehow come from his phone number. “Son of a bitch. That wasn’t me.”

  He had everyone’s attention, and they gathered around his as he held Steve’s phone, and the realization dawned on him. He looked up at Steve. “Did someone clone my phone? Is that possible?”