Authors: Elizabeth Finn
Jake drove her back to the warehouse, and as she was opening the door his hand gently clasped her forearm. She didn’t look back right away. She was afraid to actually. She didn’t want to reject a kiss, an advance of any sort. But she couldn’t ignore him forever, and when she looked back, he smiled, and his brow wrinkled in concern at her obvious stress.
“I’m glad you came tonight. Hope we can do it again.” He let go of his hold on her arm, and she smiled. She wouldn’t mind doing it again either.
Chapter Sixteen
“S
o tell me about her.” Eli’s mother was eyeing him curiously with narrow eyes. Snow had been falling in Denver since he’d arrived the evening before. It was now Thursday morning, and he and his mom were sitting in the four-season room on the back of their house watching the fluffy white snow become deeper and deeper while drinking coffee.
“She’s nice.” He wasn’t giving her much, but for Eli to think enough of someone to even make that acknowledgement meant something, and he knew she didn’t miss it.
“Hmm. Then why didn’t you bring her home with you?”
He would have loved to if he actually thought there was any purpose to it at all. “She’s not a permanent fixture in my life, Mom. Don’t see much reason getting involved.” That one was a lie—or at least a partial lie.
“Elijah, you don’t know her future any more than your own. So why don’t you tell me why she’s really not here.”
“I’m…I’m just me. I fuck things up.” His mom looked sad as she watched him. He knew the look well.
“Tell me about her.”
“She’s…beautiful. Quiet, but still really strong.” He smiled as he thought about her and then cleared his throat when he realized his mom had noticed. “She’s sarcastic and funny sometimes. She’s a fighter—even if I don’t know what she’s fighting.”
His mom nodded. “And you’re afraid you can’t trust her?”
“No. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. I know who I am, and I know I can be difficult. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“You can also be quite exceptional, you know? Not that you ever give yourself credit for it. It’s my fault—”
“Don’t do this, Mom.” She’d do it if she wanted to without his permission, but he hated going there.
“Your father—”
“That man is not my father.” His voice was suddenly venomous. The anger wasn’t aimed toward his mother, but at a long lost memory of a man he hated so much it left bile rising in his throat.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She was forever trying to fix what had happened when he was ten, and Eli was forever trying to forget. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know.” Sometimes he actually believed it when he said it.
“Are you sure?”
He just stared at her. He really didn’t want to have this conversation.
When he stood abruptly, it was to flee, and his mother’s focus followed him from the room. He found his father, or at least the only one he claimed, in his office on the phone, and Tom waved him in. He wrapped up his call quickly and studied Eli for a moment.
“Who was that?”
“Sam Caval. He’s stopping by later for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Ah. And how is old Sam?”
“Oh, you know, searching under rocks for a payday. Name of the game for him. How’s your girl?”
“So, she’s my girl now?”
His dad smiled.
“She’s fine. She’s living in the loft at the warehouse, denying Uncle Sam his not-so-fair-share of her income.”
“It couldn’t have escaped your attention she’s quite pretty.”
“I see you know what she looks like. Are you involved in her mess?”
“Only loosely.” His father waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Doesn’t matter. She’s safe, she’s hidden. Keep her that way, and she’ll be just fine. Your mom’s worried about you.”
“My mom is always worried about me. Maybe she needs to take a lesson from you. Is it step-parenthood that keeps you from losing your mind like her?”
He chuckled. “I’ve loved you like a son since I married your mom over twenty-five years ago. You know that. I worry plenty, but I’m not a woman. She’s going to delve and talk and push and drive you bonkers with her worrying. She’s programmed to do it. Live with it. Her worries are valid. You’ve been through a lot in this life, and there are plenty of ghosts in your closet you haven’t managed to kick out for good yet.” Tom peered out the office window behind him for a second. “Now your mom wants me to go out and fetch the canned cranberries she forgot to pick up yesterday, and I’m wondering how the hell I’m going to get there. Not like anyone’s going to be eating these gelatinized berries.” He muttered as he stood, and Eli followed him from his office.
Eli spent the next few hours helping his mom as much as she’d allow in the kitchen before she finally kicked him out and he ended up staring at the ceiling in his bedroom. He knew he had ghosts, but he guessed everyone did. He wondered what Fiona’s ghosts were. She had them too. Hell, she was running from them if he were guessing. He couldn’t shake the image of her staring at him over Jake’s shoulder the afternoon before. He knew Jake would be good to her, and he’d meant it when he told her that, but he wanted to be good for her too. Not a typical thought process for him in the least. He usually didn’t give a shit enough. He recognized it. He knew it was a flaw somehow attached to his own past. Years of being told he was worthless by a biological sperm donor most likely. Who knew? He was too old for his childhood to be ruining his life, but there was little question it had the power to.
He wanted to call her, hear her voice, listen to her sarcasm as she held her own with him by making a well-timed wry comment in rebuttal to something stupid or thoughtless he’d said. She was good at handling him—his bullshit. But he didn’t call her. Instead he fell asleep, and he dreamed. He’d have preferred to dream about her, and he certainly had a few times. Instead, he dreamed of his father—the worthless one who ended up dead before his time. Or was it after his time? He’d certainly outlived his welcome in this world. He heard the angry domineering voice, the hate, the disgust that dripped from his tone. The cruel words were a painful memory, and the visions of his raised hand just moments before it lashed out like a viper to hit, smack, or punch were, too.
Eli woke in a start with damp eyes. He stood in the shower for fifteen minutes before he felt part of this world again and not the painful world of his past. He couldn’t shake the image of his father for a long time, and it wasn’t until he let his mind move back to Fiona that he started to calm. He pushed away the parts of the past few days where he’d acted like an ass, and he remembered her naked in his shower instead. He wanted her so much it made his mouth water and his dick pulse.
He hadn’t forgotten the taste of her mouth or the feel of her tightness gripping him as he pushed his finger into her. He couldn’t stand the idea of Jake having that, but he’d been the one who pushed her in that direction—absolutely certain he couldn’t be enough for her. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her tongue against his, the firmness of her bottom as his hands had gripped and squeezed her, and when he touched himself, he didn’t stop touching until he’d come, clenching his teeth to stifle the moan.
He called her when he was lying on his bed again with a towel draped across his lap. He’d made sure to have the phone line to the loft reactivated, and he was likely startling her when the wall mounted cordless phone rang, but she answered it—a bit hesitantly if nothing else.
“Everything okay at the shop?”
“Yeah. Quiet, boring, until the phone rang—which I didn’t even realize worked…”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was going all right. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Well, since it’s a holiday and all, I’m fixing ramen noodles
and
Chef Boyardee ravioli.” He loved her sarcasm, and he could feel his lips pulling up already. She was silent for a moment, waiting for him to say something most likely. Of course, he couldn’t come up with a damn logical thing to say, so he just stayed quiet. “Are you okay, Eli? You sound…different.”
“Yeah. It’s always odd being home for me. My parents are great, but there’s a reason I don’t live in Denver anymore.” He had no idea why he was being so forthcoming. It wasn’t really his style.
She was now the one being silent, and he suddenly felt stupid, but she rescued him. “Why is that?”
His body warmed at the tone of her voice, but this wasn’t a conversation he was going to be having with her.
“I’ll tell you all my secrets when you tell me yours.” And then there was more silence.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then I wouldn’t expect much better out of me.” He didn’t want to sound as though he was challenging her, but he knew he did. “How was your date with Jake?” He really didn’t want to know. And he really, really wanted to know at the same time.
“It wasn’t a date. Pizza and beer.”
“Do dates require something more than that in your world?” He listened to her quiet chuckle.
“It wasn’t a date.”
That would have to be as much satisfaction as he could hope for.
He disconnected after that as he heard the doorbell ring downstairs, and as he left his room, finally dressed and with wet hair, he felt better. Was it her? Talking to her, listening to her? He usually avoided attachment. He waited for it to blow up in his face, and he had a hard time maintaining it. With her, he craved it.
“Well, Eli, how the hell are ya, son?” Sam was a man about his father’s age, but with a rougher exterior.
“I’m well, Sam. How are you?” He shook Sam’s hand as they walked toward the dining room.
“I’m well too. You keeping an eye on my girl?” Eli stopped walking mid-step, and when he looked at Sam who was beside him, Sam winked. How the hell many men could claim her as
their girl
? His own father, now Sam, and let’s not forget himself. Huh…She was Sam’s girl. Sam was a bounty hunter. Sam got paid for bringing in the bad guys, the ones who failed to appear, who jumped bond. Well, at least he could rest assured that
his
Fiona wasn’t one who fell in that category. But it raised some interesting questions to be sure.
He took the seat across from Sam, and as they started passing food, he studied the man. Once the dishes were again sitting on the table he opened his mouth. “Who’s LK?”
Sam’s eyes flashed up to his quickly, and the sarcastic expression was gone, replaced with seriousness. “Where’d you hear those initials?”
“Didn’t hear them. I saw them.”
“Well, you two must be getting quite close then.”
Sam’s sarcasm had returned but with a cool expression, and if Eli didn’t know better, he’d say Sam was none too happy to know Eli had seen her backside.
“You didn’t answer my question. Who is LK?”
His mother was watching them with interest if nothing else, and his father’s brows were raised as he appraised the situation.
“You know I can’t answer that, but it’s not her.”
“Well, she’s sure as hell not a Fiona.”
“No, that she isn’t. And she has a really lovely name, too. Shame she has to hide it from you.”
“And why is that? I’m trustworthy.”
“Yes, you are, but you know how this works. Need to know, Eli.”
“I don’t like the
need to know
excuse, Sam.”
“And you never have.” Now his father was chiming in. “It protects everyone. The less you know the better for her and for you.”
Sam ignored him then, and he looked annoyed. The rest of dinner was lovely, delicious, and completely devoid of Fiona talk.
When dinner was over, Sam stood to leave, and he motioned for Eli to follow him out. He said his goodbyes quickly, thanked Eli’s mother for dinner, and then Eli followed him to the front door.
“Listen, I know this can’t be easy for you—not you, and I hope you’re taking it easy on her because she deserves a bit of a reprieve. You don’t have to know her story to know she deserves that. Take care of her, or you’ll answer to me.” He smirked so as not to offend Eli. “You can be a real dick, you know that? But you’re a better man than most, and that’s why I asked your father for the favor. I can rest easy knowing she’s with you. At the same time, I worry that your…attitude could get in the way. Don’t let it, okay?”
He nodded. It was likely not at all convincing to Sam—hell, it wasn’t convincing to Eli either.
Chapter Seventeen
T
he knock on Fiona’s door startled her as she washed a couple dishes in her sink. After her heart rate slowed, it reinvigorated when she realized that a knock at her door meant someone was in the warehouse. It was only mid-day on Sunday, so that just didn’t make a whole lot of sense. She stood silently at the sink, afraid to move for a moment.
“Come on, Fluffy, I know you’re in there.”
Her lips pulled up as she moved toward the door.
“Fluffy?” She cocked her head as she took in the sight of him. She was still confused after their conversation in the showroom the week before, but when he shrugged mildly, she started to relax. The negativity of their showroom showdown seemed to be gone, and she was relieved. He offered her a large paper bag he held in his hand.
“Leftovers. I had to stop by to pick up some designs I need to work on, so I thought I’d drop them off to you.”
She reached for the bag, smiling as she did, and once she’d taken it, he turned and headed back down the stairs. She would have preferred he stay, but that was probably asking too much. By the next morning, she was dressed in a pair of black tights, knee-high black dress boots and a gray sweater dress—all courtesy of a quick trip to the local discount shopping store that Candace would balk at. She twisted her long dark hair in a knot at the back of her head, and after a quick peek in the mirror, she headed downstairs.
She ran up to her office to see if he was there, and when she poked her head in his door, he looked up and stopped what he was doing. His focus slowly moved over every inch of her body when she stepped into the office, and his lips pulled up slightly.
“You look nice.” He seemed uncomfortable saying the words, but his eyes returned to studying her body freely. Apparently looking he was okay with, but opening his mouth to actually pay her a compliment was difficult. Interesting. “I think I have two appointments in the showroom later this afternoon…”
“Yes, you do.”
He smiled curiously. “So, I’ll see you then. If you need help, or have any questions, just call. It’s going to be slow, so I think you’ll be fine. Aaron’s wife, Cinda, has already asked for the position, and she’s planning on coming in tomorrow morning. So, I’m hoping you’ll only be there today and maybe part of tomorrow. Otherwise the guys may not get paid, and then where will we be?” He winked.
She hoped he was right. She had no problem filling in down at the showroom, but she was already anxious to get back to her desk.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”
Her morning went fast, but not because the showroom was at all busy. She dusted every piece of furniture in the place, and given how many pieces were there, it was quite the chore. When the door opened at lunchtime, Eli carried in a takeout bag from the café they’d eaten at a few weeks before. “Burger, right?” She nodded, taking the bag from him, and he sat in the chair on the other side of the desk, watching her as she ate. “I want you to get payroll run tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay, why?”
“I’m hoping Cinda will be up to speed and you can get back to the office come tomorrow afternoon, and as long as payroll is run and checks printed by end of the day tomorrow, you can come to Cody with me Wednesday. We’ll be home by five or six that night.”
She’d never actually been to Cody, and nerve-racking as a day in the car with Eli would most likely be, she was also intrigued. “Okay.” She said nothing else, not wanting to appear too excited, but she was.
His first meeting arrived very shortly thereafter. She was an older woman dressed like she owned the world. Her perfume was too strong, her makeup too heavy, and her attitude too snooty. Her nose seemed permanently stuck up in the air. She glanced at Fiona quickly before ignoring her as though she weren’t worth the time it would take to greet her. She did not, however, treat Eli in such a way. Her eyes lit up, and she instantly started behaving like a desperate teen with a crush. Her behavior was a bit pathetic.
Eli smiled broadly and played his part, and Fiona watched him from across the showroom. The woman was apparently building a home in Jackson, and she wanted to contract Eli for a good portion of the furnishings. He took notes as they meandered about the showroom. She’d point out a particular style, a particular wood, a finish, anything and everything she liked, and it was up to him to put together a bid and some rudimentary designs for her to look at. She wanted completely custom, which meant she wouldn’t be settling for anything already on the showroom floor.
Eli’s gaze caught on Fiona’s regularly, and when the woman was making a particularly outlandish statement about her maid being an atrocious duster, he looked at Fiona and rolled his eyes. She started laughing before she could stop herself, and the woman glared at her as Eli stifled his own laughter. The old bat finally left, giving Eli a gratuitous hug that ended with her hand on his ass.
“Did you see that? Accosted by a sixty-year-old woman. Should have let you help her. She wouldn’t have grabbed your ass.” He sank into the chair by the desk, resting his hands on the back of his head. “Or maybe she would have. You do have an amazing ass.” He smirked, and she trilled with warmth and arousal. “So I saw our good friend, Sam, over Thanksgiving.” His attention was suddenly glued to her, and he was very obviously not going to be looking away until he was damn good and ready.
“And how was Sam?” She tried to be nonchalant.
“Good.”
She looked away from him then.
“Now what would the sweet Fluffy need with a bounty hunter, I wonder?” Well, she wasn’t going to answer that question, and he must have known that. “Listen, what I said last week…When we were here…It came out wrong…like most things I say. The night before that…” He shook his head. “I just keep fucking shit up with you. Believe it or not, I don’t want to. I’m not trying to.” His expression was serious, and he studied her carefully. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry. Also something I’m not good at.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m not upset.” And she wasn’t. Not in the least. She wanted more from him. She had no idea why, but she did. Something about him simply worked for her. It made no sense whatsoever. He could frighten her, intimidate her, he obviously had no problem yelling at her or offending her when he felt like it, but he wasn’t a jerk—regardless of what he may think of himself. He was a bit broken actually, and since she was too, she respected him and the life he was trying to live.
When the door suddenly opened again, they were both shocked. She jumped, and his eyes flashed to the door. The customer was a man this time. Mid-forties if she was guessing, handsome and as confident as Eli usually appeared. But none of that meant much to her except the badge on his hip. She was suddenly in a blind panic, and she stood, knocking her chair over as Eli’s eyes found hers. His head cocked subtly to the side as he tried to discern her reaction.
“Eli, good to see you.”
“You too, Chief. So, anniversary gift for Melanie, is that what we’re doing today?” Eli glanced back to Fiona as she fought to wipe the panic off her face.
“Ah, yes. She loves your work, and we’re looking for a new dining room set. Couldn’t be better timing.”
“Well, I have a few pieces up on the upper level. Why don’t you head up there, and I’ll meet you in a minute.” The moment the chief of police walked away to the stairs, Eli rounded the desk, reaching for her. One hand clasped the back of her neck gently, and the other gripped her waist. He leaned to her ear. He was far too intimate and close, but he was also blocking her from the chief’s line of sight. “Relax.” His hands squeezed softly against her skin, and she whimpered quietly against his neck. “He’s not here for you. Just go back to the workshop. I’ll close up.” His lips tickled and touched her earlobe, and by the time he pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her body was too.
She wasted no time at all fleeing from the showroom, and she kept her head down until she had ducked inside the workshop. She collected the timecards at the bottom of the stairs heading up to her office, and just as she took the first step up, she was startled.
“Hi.”
“Shit, Jake. You scared me.” She shouldn’t be. The warehouse was a business operation, after all, during business hours even.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. What’s up? Why so anxious?”
“No reason. I’m just easily startled.” No lie there.
“Well, well, well, if it
idn’t
my favorite secretary.” Chris’s voice came from across the room, and she turned toward him.
“Chris. How are you?”
“I’d be better if you were—”
“Shut it, Chris.” Jake stopped whatever inappropriateness was getting ready to pop out of Chris’s mouth. “I was thinking of going to a movie Wednesday night. ’Bout seven-ish.” He held his hands up in placation. “Violent, action movie. Not date material movie at all. Totally safe for un-dating friends.”
She chuckled. “Yeah. Sure. That sounds nice. I won’t be around until about six, but that should work.” She held the timecards up. “I better get to these.”
She bounded up the stairs then and set to work on payroll. She had no intention of missing her payroll deadline and being stuck in the office on Wednesday rather than in Eli’s car with him heading to Cody. Eli arrived a good hour later at closing time.
“Care to explain that?”
“No.” She looked up to him, and he shook his head before walking away. He was annoyed. She understood very well that he didn’t like the secrecy. It didn’t work well with his controlling personality, and she was starting to get that. She just hoped he could appreciate that she didn’t like the secrets either. She was told very explicitly that her business was not to be shared with anyone.
Need to know
was how it had been explained to her. Even the most trustworthy of people could inadvertently blow her cover, and letting him in to her mess of a life could make him either a liability to her, or make her a liability to him. She didn’t want to deal with either of those scenarios, so she was going to hold her tongue, even though confessing to this man was what she really wanted to do. Perhaps not the worst of it, but she wished he could see where she was coming from, and honesty was the key to that.
She followed him—ill-conceived perhaps, but she didn’t want things to sour again, and she knew they could quickly for them—too many secrets, too much friction, too much bullshit that neither of them wanted.
“Are you going to be upset with me now?” He looked up from his laptop but said nothing. “Oh, come on! I’m obviously hiding. It should stand to reason that perhaps my hiding could become infinitely more difficult should the police become aware of my identity. This shouldn’t surprise you!” She was speaking emphatically, and after he eyed her for a moment, his lips pulled up subtly.
“Calm down. You’re hanging out with a bounty hunter. I’m not pretending you don’t have some skeletons in your closet.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
His face dropped as he watched her, and his expression became serious.
He stood grabbing his coat off the coat tree. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You’ll be at the shop showing Aaron’s wife around, and then you’ll be back here to run payroll after lunch.” He turned, throwing a good night over his shoulder. Well, at least he was being confusing and moody. That seemed about right.