Custom Love

by Chantal Fernando

  I wonder if he feels it, too.

  He pulls my chair out for me, and I sit down and wait for him to do the same. The restaurant is fancy, mirrored walls and gold details, a big bar and beautiful table settings. It looks really expensive. I like the effort he has put in, but I hope he knows he didn’t have to do this. He could have taken me anywhere, and I would have been fine with it.

  We chat as we look over the menu and order a glass of wine each. We decide on a seafood platter for the two of us to share, which has a little bit of everything on it.

  We start talking about Fast & Fury, and I ask him about his construction company, which AJ mentioned to me.

  “Yes, I do own my own construction company, so before I was managing that, but I hired someone else to for the time being because Temper asked me if I would help him out,” Trade explains. “To be honest, I was happy for a change, I was kind of stuck in a rut in my old job, so I thought doing something new would mix it up a bit. I love motorcycles, and I love working at Fast & Fury, so it worked out well, and I also always have my business to lean back on for extra income. It’s a win-win situation.”

  “So you used to be in the MC?” I ask. I’ve heard the story, but not from him, and I’d like to hear what he has to say about it.

  “I was in the MC,” he admits, nodding. “And when I had my kids I decided to step away from it. I guess I never fully did, though, I was just not officially a member anymore. It’s kind of hard when your big brother is the president. I’m always going to be there for him and a part of that world whether I like it or not. Temper is all the family I have left, aside from my children, and he’s always been the best big brother to me. I’d do anything for that man.”

  “I love how everyone in the MC looks after each other.”

  “They do,” he agrees. “They’ve all helped me out so much. I don’t think I could ever repay them.”

  “You’d do the same for them in a heartbeat.”

  He nods. “Yes, I would. So tell me, what was Bronte like as a private investigator?”

  I laugh. “That is my best friend, so I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of me, but I will say she was a good one. She was good at acting, you know, playing a role to get information.” We had a lot of fun together. “This one time there was this man who was skimming money from his boss. We were hired to catch him in the act and it was at a strip club.”

  Trade chuckles. “Oh man, please tell me you and Bronte had to go undercover.”

  I take a sip of water. “No, not me. Just her. I was there as backup, but this was all her. She showed up looking for a job while I sat at the bar. In less than two minutes she had the bartender, our mark, eating out of her palm. When she told him she didn’t really want to be a stripper but needed the money, he went into the register and pulled out five hundred dollars to give to her. Mission accomplished.”

  “That is the best story.”

  “Oh, I have a lot more, but they’re in the vault. She has just as many stories about me,” I say with a wink.

  “I’ll have to bribe her with days off.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “I’m kidding. If you weren’t a PI, what would you do?”

  I tilt my head as I consider his question. “Well, if I could go back and have a do-over, I’d probably be a social worker. After all the cases I’ve done with children, I realize someone needs to be their advocate.”

  “You like helping people,” he muses.

  “I do. I like to be useful, and I like being challenged. I like that I both do desk work and work out in the field, so it’s a mix of different things and it’s never the same.”

  “You’re hardworking and passionate. And it looks good on you.”

  I duck my face as I smile. “I’m a bit of a workaholic.”

  “I’ve noticed. But if that’s what you love, then why not let it consume you, right? As long as it makes you happy.”

  I love that he’s so supportive. I don’t think I could be with someone who didn’t support and encourage my dreams.

  The food arrives, and the platter looks so pretty I can’t help but take a photo to show Bronte. “This looks amazing.” There’s lobster, prawns, crabs, oysters and crayfish with salad, fruit, crackers and some seafood sauce to dip it all in. “This is going to be messy.”

  “No judgement here.” Trade grins, flashing his teeth as he picks up a prawn and dips it before taking a bite. “Holy shit, that is good.”

  I start off with the safer options, but end up having to dive in with the crab, cracking the shell and sucking out all of the flesh. I lift my head to find his eyes on me, watching.

  “It’s all over my face, isn’t it?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, grinning. “No, I just like watching you eat.”

  We finish up the meal and have dessert, and when the bill comes I offer to pay. Trade quickly declines my offer, looking offended that I’d even consider that. But it’s the twenty-first century and I’m more than happy to pay. The bill was expensive and I feel bad that he paid for it all.

  He seems to think otherwise. “If you’re going out with me, I’m paying. I like being able to do that. I guess I’m a little old-school that way.”

  “Next date, I’m paying,” I declare.

  He simply smiles. “So there’s going to be a next date, hmm?”

  My lip twitches. “Yes. Would you like to go on a second date with me?”

  “I’d love that,” he murmurs, our eyes locking and holding.

  “Should we get out of here?”

  He nods, and we head back to my house.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I know what I want to do.

  * * *

  “Do you want to come in for coffee?” I ask as he parks at my place. “You’ve never seen my house, have you?”

  “Nope, this is my first time coming here. And yes, I’d love coffee.”

  We get out of the car and walk to my front door together, our shoulders brushing up against each other. I clear my throat and glance up at him to find his eyes on me. When they drop to my lips, I swallow hard. The tension is high between us, and it’s been building all night. I want him, and I’m pretty sure he wants me, too, and it’s been so long for both of us, so this is a big deal.

  Looking away from him, my fingers tremble slightly as I unlock the door and step inside, turning on the light for us to see. “Welcome to my home,” I say, my tone a little huskier than usual.

  He steps inside and looks around. “It’s beautiful.”

  My house is much smaller than his, but it’s warm and welcoming. I, too, am a neat freak, and everything has its own place.

  I lead him to my kitchen, placing my bag on the marble countertop and turning my coffee machine on. “I don’t like clutter, so there’s not much stuff around.”

  “I like it,” he says, coming over to me and brushing my hair back behind my ear. “Are you always so put together?”

  I laugh. “No, but I like that I appear that way.”

  His kiss catches me off guard—one second I’m smiling, and the next his lips are on mine, and all bets are off. I allow myself to touch him, my fingers wrapping around his neck as I pull him closer. He moans softly, and it turns me on even more. Our bodies press against each other while our lips do the talking, our tongues exploring.

  He pulls back and looks at me, scanning my eyes for a second before kissing me again. I lead him to my bedroom, unable to stop kissing him and touching him along the way. He sits down on the edge of my four-poster bed and I straddle his lap. I can feel how hard he is, and how big, and my heart starts to race.

  I slowly grind myself against him, and he moans against my lips, his big hands on my hips. His fingers lift up my top, and then undo the clasp of my bra, so I’m sitting half-bare in front of him. He lowers his head and kiss
es my breasts, licking and gently sucking on my nipples with expertise. I press myself against him, silently asking for more.

  “You are so perfect, Nadia,” he whispers against my skin.

  I remove his shirt and push him back on the bed, quickly pulling off my jeans, leaving me in just red lace panties. I undo the button of his jeans, and that’s when I notice that he’s just lying there, unmoving. I can almost feel his mind working—he’s in his head, and something isn’t right.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him, moving to lie down next to him. “Trade?”

  He rolls to the side to face me. “It’s not you, you are...incredible.”

  “But?” I press.

  “Ariel was the last person I slept with,” he whispers, swallowing hard, and I suddenly understand why he’s hesitating.

  She was the last person he’s been with, and he’s obviously been holding on to that. If we sleep together, he’s letting go of that part of her.

  I don’t know how to feel right now. Surely he would have thought about this before we ended up half-naked and ready to sleep with each other. Or maybe he thought he could handle it but couldn’t.

  What a mess.

  I take a deep breath. “Do you want to go home? We don’t have to do this. Or we can just lie here and go to sleep?”

  I take his hand and let him know that it’s okay. I can’t begin to understand how he’s feeling right now. If Ariel wasn’t taken away, he would have been with her for the rest of his life, and we sure as hell wouldn’t be here right now.

  But she’s not here. Is he going to be able to accept that, or is he always going to feel guilty for moving on with his life?

  It’s in this moment that I truly realize just what I’m up against. Trade comes with baggage, and I’m not even talking about his children. I know it’s not a nice way to put it, but it’s true. Being with him isn’t going to be easy, and it’s going to require a shit load of communication and a lot of patience and understanding.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry, Nadia. I thought it would be fine. I didn’t think that...”

  “You don’t have to explain,” I reply. “It’s okay.”

  He sits up and puts his shirt back on. “I’m going to go. I just need to...think.”

  “Okay.”

  He kisses the top of my head, and then he’s gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bronte comes over in the morning hoping to get some gossip.

  “What happened?” she asks as soon as I open the door. “I brought coffee and breakfast.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, sounding defeated to even my own ears. “Nothing happened.”

  “Explain. I was expecting to stay the night so the two of you could have some loud, kinky first-time sex; instead he was home by ten and looked miserable.”

  “I must have that effect on men,” I mutter to myself. “Basically we went out for dinner. It was perfect, we had such a great time, and then he came in and we started getting hot and heavy. And then he just froze and left.”

  Bronte’s jaw drops. “Shit.”

  “I know this is exactly what you were trying to warn me about. Trade has been through a lot and only lost Ariel a year ago. Maybe we’re rushing into things. I don’t know.” I grab the coffee and head to the sofa, wrapping myself in a cozy blanket, preparing to veg.

  “It’s clear he likes you, but yeah, it’s not going to be an easy path. He probably feels guilty that he’s moving on, and unfortunately if you want to be with him you’re going to be dragged along for his emotional roller coaster,” she says, stating the obvious.

  “This is why I don’t date,” I say, allowing myself to be a bit melodramatic. “It’s too hard. I don’t know how you found Crow, but you are one of the lucky ones. Some of us are destined to be with their vibrator for the rest of our lives.”

  “It won’t always be hard, though. His head must be all messed up, but I wish he had realized that a little sooner.”

  “My thoughts exactly, and now it’s all awkward and I’m back to never coming into your work again,” I summarize, taking a sip of the coffee and wishing there was some whiskey in it. “How was your evening?”

  “Better than yours. The kids are great, and Quinn had a ball playing with them all. We played board games and watched a movie. AJ cooked us dinner. I’ll tell you something, that kid is going places,” she replies, sounding impressed. She grabs plates from my kitchen and sets out the food on my coffee table—breakfast bagels and hash browns.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Are you going to talk to him today?” she asks, taking a bite from her jalapeno cream cheese bagel.

  I shrug. “I mean, if he reaches out. I’ll give him a little space to sort out what he’s feeling. I think I need to process the situation, too.”

  “I’m sure he will contact you today,” she replies. “Or at least he better. What are your plans for today anyway? And don’t tell me that you’re going into work on a Saturday.”

  “I am,” I admit, sighing. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, and I want to keep busy. Plus there’s no point me sitting here overthinking what happened last night.”

  “Yeah, I’d give him some time.”

  “It’s hard to not feel rejected. I just need to see it from his side and know that he’s at war with himself right now.” I need to be understanding, but I also need to make sure that I can handle all of this if it becomes an ongoing thing.

  “Yeah, it’s nothing to do with you, Nadia. His head is just probably all messed up right now.”

  She stays for over an hour and then heads home, while I get ready and go to work.

  Time to dive back into my safe world, and if I’m smart, stay there.

  * * *

  Trade does call me around lunchtime, and when I see his name pop up on my phone I’m a little nervous because this isn’t going to be a fun, light conversation.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry about last night. I wanted to come over in person, but I’d have to bring all of the kids if I did and...”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”

  He takes a deep breath. “I think it just all hit me and I freaked out. It’s not that I don’t like you or don’t want to be with you, because I do. I think you’re beautiful and funny and smart. I just froze up. It’s been so long...”

  “I know,” I reply, sighing. “I just kind of wish you knew where your head was at before it got to that moment because it didn’t have to go down like that.”

  “You’re right, and I thought it was all under control,” he admits. “I truly am sorry—please let me make it up to you.”

  I don’t know how the hell he’s going to do that. I do like him, more than I probably should, but it’s so complicated. And I don’t know if it should be. Dating and relationships should be easy, especially at the beginning. I don’t know what to think anymore, and giving him a second chance kind of sounds like a one-way ticket to get my heart broken.

  “Maybe we should just have a little break, and you can think about what you really want,” I say as I twirl around in my work chair. “I just don’t want to get hurt, and I feel like you might realize maybe you aren’t ready.”

  “I understand. I’d never want to hurt you, Nadia.”

  “I know.” But him not knowing what he wants might end up with me getting hurt anyway.

  “Maybe we can talk about it later, in person,” he says, and I agree.

  I hang up feeling a little sad, and disappointed, but it is what it is. Timing can be a bitch, and it plays such a big part in things working out with someone.

  You can have it all, the chemistry, the physical, mental and intellectual connection, everything.

  Bu
t if the timing is off?

  Then you have nothing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I’m at work trying to find Merve on social media when there’s suddenly a loud noise, making me jump out of my seat. It’s then followed by my window cracking and shattering, the glass going everywhere.

  “What the fuck,” I mutter, calling 911 instantly. I pull out my gun from my bottom drawer and get ready in case I have to defend myself. Looking on my carpet, I see a huge rock sitting there amongst all of the broken glass.

  “Hello? Yeah, someone has thrown a huge rock into my office window, and there’s glass everywhere,” I tell the operator.

  When nothing else happens and there is no other movement, I glance outside. “No, no one is around here that I can see, but I’m not sure.” I rattle off my address to the police officer and then hang up.

  Why would someone do this, though? I think of the cases I’ve been working, and the three new ones I just took on, but none of it makes sense.

  Who have I made an enemy of?

  The police finally arrive and take my statement. I should have just called Decker, because it takes them over half an hour to get here. We check the camera surveillance from the front of the building, but I can only see a car without license plates pulling up, and a man with his face covered throwing the rock and jumping back in his car and driving away. So it was a man. That’s all we know.

  I call up my insurance company and organize getting the window fixed today, then sit back in my chair and contemplate my life, wondering who the hell could have done this.

  And why?

  * * *

  There are flowers at my door when I get home from work. It seems like our date was ages ago, but it was only last night.

  I knew I fucked up the second I drove away from your house.