His to Protect: A Fireside Novel (6 page)

Digging through my bag, I pulled on a pair of pink-and-blue pajama pants and threw a baggy but comfortable sweatshirt on over the pink cami top I slept in.

After using the restroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, I headed downstairs, walking slowly and focusing on the noises coming from the kitchen.

“She’s pretty, though,” I heard Derrick say. My feet paused before I turned the corner into the kitchen.

There was a clink of silverware before Declan replied, “She’s a friend and in trouble. I’m just helping.”

“Yeah, but my dad says you haven’t been out since Mara left, and now you got a hot chick in your house.”

Before Declan could respond to that, I hurried into the kitchen, hoping that my cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. “Good morning!” I chirped, and glanced around for the coffeemaker.

“Hey,” Declan said from his chair at a small two-person table in the tiny eating area.

He shot Derrick a quick glare, and I watched as the young teenager shoveled his mouth full of eggs before he grunted a hello in my direction.

I shook off the unease of the conversation they were having and asked, “Do you have any coffee?”

“You bet.” Declan pushed back from the table and walked the short distance to a corner I hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. When he turned around, he handed me a simple black mug and stepped back. “There’s more bacon in the pan on the counter,” he said, gesturing toward the stove. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

“Black is fine,” I muttered, still not fully awake. “Where’s Boomer?” I asked when I saw two bowls on the floor by the fridge, one filled with water.

A strange warmth fluttered in my chest as I realized Declan had fed and taken care of Boomer, something Kevin never did, and made clear he never would. If I wanted to bring the damn dog into the house with me when we were married, he wasn’t doing a damn thing to take care of it. His words, not mine.

“Outside,” Declan said as he sat back down at the table. “He was whining when he heard me up this morning, so I let him out so you could sleep. Figured you needed it.”

My mouth went dry for a moment before I found my voice. “That was nice of you. Thank you.”

He seemed to understand more about my situation than I had told him. Perhaps he had some uncanny sixth sense. Perhaps he was a secret superhero. Whatever it was, it started that strange, warm, fluttering feeling all over again.

I filled my mug and stood in the corner of the kitchen chomping on a piece of bacon. We all ate in a silence. It felt strangely comfortable.

Watching them give each other a hard time while they played videogames last night probably helped. I had enjoyed watching Declan playfully shove Derrick around when the kid beat him, or toss him a high five when he did something great. Declan might be large and muscled and intimidating on his own, but when he was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the young teen, he radiated excitement and friendliness. Probably why I wasn’t scared, knowing he’d been in my room this morning.

From the short time I’ve known him, he seemed to be a man worthy of trust and honor.

A knock from the front door jolted me out of my thoughts and I looked at Declan.

“Probably my dad,” Derrick said, and grabbed his plate from the table. Just as he was sliding it into the sink, Aidan’s voice bellowed from the front of the house.

“Hello? You losers up yet?”

“In here, Dad!” Derrick tossed me a smile as he headed out of the room. “I’m going to go grab my stuff. Thanks for the games last night, Declan. Nice to meet you, Trina.”

“You too,” I mumbled, my coffee mug pressed against my lips. I watched him go and then watched as Declan rose from his chair.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said. “You can hang back, but there’s something I’d like to talk to you about once they’re gone.”

Unease swirled in my gut at his tone. Not demanding, but serious.

I watched him leave the room, knowing whatever he had to say was something I wasn’t going to like.

Damn, she was pretty. Even thinking it might make me an asshole, but as she sat across from me in the living room, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation we were about to have—one that needed to happen—I couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty she looked when she was still half-asleep.

Freckles dotted her nose, making her seem more innocent and naive than I knew she was.

Legs that were every man’s wet dream.

A chest that was just the perfect, small handful, and lips that could make me think only one thing—how good they would feel stretched around my dick.

I scooted forward, unable to tear my eyes away from Trina’s pretty body and her hesitant look. She wasn’t beautiful in a glamorous way, it was more in the sweet, Southern way.

Based on her accent, I assumed that’s where she was from.

I cleared my throat and forced myself to forget my obvious physical attraction.

I had told her the truth. She was safe in my house and I wouldn’t touch her. I had to stop looking at her that way.

“We need to talk,” I said and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

Her lips pressed together and she looked away.

I continued, for my safety as well as hers.

“You know I want you here and I want to help, Trina, but there’s a few things I need to know.”

Her eyes fixed on mine and her arms crossed defensively over chest.

“I need to know if you’re in trouble,” I began. “And before you jump up and assure me you can leave, I want you to think about one thing.”

“What?”

“Where are you going to go without any cash? I mean, you can sell your car. It’ll give you a nice safety net, but I’m guessing you don’t want the paper trail that will follow, and then
how
are you going to get anywhere?”

“You just have this all figured out, don’t you?” She looked away and that niggling feeling that I was being an asshole returned, but there was too much at risk here for me to stop.

“I’ve asked a woman I don’t know, who could be some major scam artist or in huge trouble with the law, into my home. I’m doing this taking the chance that you’re neither of those things, but you have to understand why I need to know, Trina. I would have asked you this last night when we were talking, but Derrick was here and it wasn’t the right time.”

I forced my voice to soften and leaned back in the couch, hoping I was showing her that I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t mean to turn the tables on her, let her think I’d brought her into my home out of the goodness of my heart just to trap her, but I hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, either.

“I’m not in trouble with the law,” she whispered, and sucked her lip in between her teeth.

“Just running from the man who hurt you?”

She nodded and her chin quivered. I closed my eyes and imagined finding the prick, throttling him with my bare hands, and then beating the shit out of him so he felt more pain than he’d ever inflicted on this woman.

The strength of the protective instinct I was feeling was scary. Even around Mara I’d never felt the overwhelming urge to pummel some asshole for looking at her the wrong way. I had a feeling that the first leering glance some guy gave Trina, he’d have my fist in his face before he could blink the vision of her cute, tight ass out of his thoughts.

“My husband,” she admitted, eyes blinking rapidly. I had figured that out on my own last night. “I left him a week ago.”

“Is he going to come looking for you?”

Another chin quiver, another bite down on her lip as she refused to meet my eyes.

“Not trying to hurt you, Trina. Not trying to push you, either, but I know someone who might be able to help you.”

Her head jerked and our gazes met. “Who?” she drawled, slowly and suspiciously.

“I got a friend, Tyson Blackwell. He lives in town now, but he works for the FBI.”

“No.” She jumped to her feet. “No cops. No law enforcement of any kind.” Shaking her head wildly, she paced toward me and pointed. “I’ll leave. I don’t know what I’ll do without the money, but you have a point. I
do
need to get rid of my car. I’m not sure how yet, but I’ll figure it out. You’ve been kind, I swear. But this…this isn’t going to work.”

“Woah.” I stood and held my palms out, eyes wide. “I don’t know what just brought that freak-out on, Trina, but are you forgetting some asshole not only broke the law by almost breaking your face, but you’ve also had shit stolen from your hotel? You don’t think those things are connected? I’m just suggesting having Tyson look into it.”

“They’re not connected.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because.” She laughed coldly and sat back down. As I watched her try to get comfortable, I returned to sitting on the couch. “Because I left a note for my husband telling him I went on a spa trip.” Her eyes flickered to mine, but the look I returned showed how confused I was. When she spoke again, her voice was softer…sadder. “It’s what I usually do…well…after…when I can’t be seen in public. He’s not even expecting me home until tomorrow.”

She sucked her lip between her teeth and I knew we both realized she’d said too much.

What in the hell did this guy do, where his wife had to leave town when she was too bruised to be seen in public?

Something important, that’s what.

I didn’t let on that I thought there was anything strange about what she’d said. Instead, I asked, “He hasn’t tried to call?”

“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “I threw my phone out before I crossed the city limits, and I bought one of those pay-as-you-go ones before I left the state, but he hasn’t done that in three years, so I’m not sure why he’d do it this time.”

“What was your plan when you hit the road?”

“Canada,” she whispered after a prolonged silence. “Figured he can’t do anything to me if I leave the country.”

I arched a brow. “But he can if you stay here?”

Her face paled before she sighed. “I’m guessing it’s not lost on you that I come from money,” she stated, almost as if she hated it. I wondered if it was the money she loathed, or her circumstances. Perhaps it was the loss of money that made her lips twist with disgust. “My husband is important and powerful, and has an incredibly wide sphere of influence. He’ll be able to find me wherever I go, which is why I was planning on crossing the border. At least there, his influence is less.”

The demand to know what her prick of a husband did for a living was on the tip of my tongue.

“And you won’t let me ask Tyson even to just check and make sure he’s not looking for you? It could buy you time to stay put and make some money before you head to the tunnel,” I said, referring to the Windsor Tunnel, the way most people got to Toronto from Detroit.

“I think the less people who know, the better.”

“For who?” I demanded, my frustration leaking through in my tone. “For him or you?”

“Both,” she snapped, and stood up.

“You ever hear about the Mafia family, the Galeckis, that were arrested in Detroit this past summer?” Confusion flared in her eyes, but I kept speaking. It was on every news network, national and worldwide, for weeks. There was no way she hadn’t heard. “Tyson was responsible for that. His girlfriend, Blue, is a Galecki, and they dated—have a longtime history between them—but they dated while Tyson worked that case and she never found out until she had to. Tyson can be circumspect, Trina, I promise.”

“You’re friends with them?” she asked, recognition widening her pretty, brown eyes. “And she goes by Blue, now?”

“Long story.” A grin twitched at the edges of my lips, because, yeah, it was a strange-as-hell nickname. But it was also because she refused to go back to ever being called Gabriella again, and her middle name, Bluejay, was something she’d always loved.

“I won’t force you,” I lied. I was calling Tyson the minute I could. She might hate me for it one day, but I wanted to protect her and Tyson could help.

Her eyes flicked to Boomer, passed out on the floor. Apparently, the big brute of a dog could only hack chasing squirrels in my backyard for so long before he was drained of all energy.

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded.

“Good. It’s all I ask.” I slid my hands into my pockets and let her think I was giving up. “Now, I have to get to Fireside this morning and start getting ready to open up. You want to come hang out there today or stay here?”

Or take off?

We were both thinking about her doing that.

My breath caught in my throat while I waited for her to decide. Why did I want this woman close to me?

It made no sense, I just knew that’s what I wanted.

“Can I come with you? Maybe help out or something? I think I’ll drive myself crazy if I’m here all day with nothing to do.”

A thought came to mind and I grinned. “How good are you with computers?”

“You’re a fucking genius,” I told Trina.

Her eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen before.

As if she had to summon the strength to sass me, she bit her lip before saying, “I think you’re up to ten dollars now.”

I grinned. Last night, when she’d looked terrified at the realization she’d talked back to me, I couldn’t help but make a joke to ease her fear. The thought that she hadn’t been able to speak her mind unnerved me, further increasing my rage toward whatever asshole had been married to a sweet piece like her and abused it.

My old man always said you could take the measure of a man by who he chose to stand by his side.

I’d never doubted that saying until now. Trina seemed like a hell of a woman, and proved it all day as I showed her my accounting software and the piles of shit on my desk. Within hours, she’d whipped my office into shape. I planned on paying her for her time, even if I couldn’t afford it.

“Saturday nights are busy nights,” I said as a knock came on the office door. Moving to open it, I looked back at her. “You’ll hear a lot fucking worse before the night is over.”

Her lips twitched, like she wanted to add up my tally, but stayed silent.

Emily stood on the other side of the door, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. She was early for her shift, which wasn’t a surprise, but her pale skin concerned me.

“What is it?” I asked, opening the door further and letting her in. When she caught sight of Trina sitting at the desk, her eyes widened further.

“Trina, Emily. You two saw each other yesterday,” I said by way of introduction. As soon as both women said hello, Emily turned to me.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you,” she said, her hands twisting together. “But I just found out my older sister is in labor. Her baby’s coming three weeks early and her husband is still deployed. My mom is stuck at work, so my sister is headed to the hospital on her own.”

“Go,” I told her, not needing hear any more. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded and waved her toward the door. “Do what you have to do. Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded quickly and exhaled.“Okay. Thank you, Declan. You’re the best.”

“Just go help your sister.”

She turned around and hurried out of the kitchen, hitching her purse over her shoulder as she walked away.

“Shit.” It was thirty minutes before her shift started and it was going to be hell finding a server to replace her on such short notice. Our afternoon server, Maggie, had to head home soon to be with her kids before her husband left for his night shift at one of the auto plants, so she couldn’t stay.

A snicker behind me caught my attention.

“So, now that we know you’re good on computers,” I asked, grinning, “any chance in hell you know how to take orders or seat people?”

Trina rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from the desk. “When I suggested hanging out here today, I didn’t realize I’d be put to work.”

It was the first time she’d outright teased me.

“I’ll pay you. Plus you’ll get to keep whatever tips you make.”

“It’s not a hardship, Declan. I did do some waitressing in high school, so I’m sure I can figure it out.”

Pressure eased from my chest at her words. I turned to call out to Maggie.

“Mags!”

She slid an order of food onto her large tray and smiled at me. “What’s up, Dec?”

Trina followed me to the counter. “Trina’s going to help on the floor tonight. Any chance you can show her the computer system and a menu before you go, to give her some time to get comfortable?”

She smiled easily. “Of course. That’s not a problem at all.”

While Fireside Grill hadn’t been turning a profit over the summer, I was fucking lucky as hell that I had great employees. All of my people were hard workers and genuinely friendly.

“Sound okay to you?” I asked, turning to Trina.

“Yeah.” Her eyes drifted down the length of Maggie’s petite but curvy frame before she looked at me. “I’m not sure I’m dressed right, though.”

She had a point. Her green tank top and black yoga pants weren’t exactly Fireside Grill material.

“I’ve got more shirts in the break room. I’m sure one them will look fine with your black pants.”

“Okay, then.” She turned to Maggie and smiled. “Show me what to do.”

“Is working in a restaurant always this exhausting and painful?” Trina asked as she stretched her back, hands low on her hips.

She let out a groan that made me think of a handful of things I could do to get her to make that sound somewhere else. Some of them involved the use of my hands.

I hadn’t been able to stop myself from thinking those thoughts all night long.

Watching her working, smiling at customers, and eventually, giving my head cook, Javier, a bunch of crap for teasing her about one of her messed-up orders, made me admire the hell out of Trina.

She had worked her butt off. Now, at just after two in the morning, except for Javier going through his closing duties in the kitchen, we were the last people here.

“You get used to it,” I muttered, before moving to the next table as we got ready to close.

She helped place another chair on the tabletop so when Maggie opened in the morning, it would be easier for her to vacuum and get the floors cleaned.