Nick took her shoulders gently. “Gwen, they might not be from him. They could be—”
Her phone blared, making Gwen jump.
“Hello?”
Dead air.
“Hello?”
Click.
Heart pounding, Gwen closed her eyes. The roses. She steadied herself on the desk. Nick gripped her arms, a strong, firm hold. Gratitude for his friendship and support filled her.
“You have to call the police.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “I—”
A horn honked and Gwen looked out the mullioned window at the back lot. She could just make out Ace’s black Honda in the early evening darkness. Dread flooded her. After her last conversation with her brother, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him.
“Nick, I gotta go.” She squeezed his arm and headed for the back door.
“What do you want to do with the roses?”
“I don’t know yet. Leave them there for now, I guess.” Maybe she could get Ace to look at them. Though after last night, she wouldn’t hold her breath.
“All right. Walk you out?”
“Sure.”
Gwen followed him out the back entrance of the club, and the heavy steel door clanked shut. It didn’t go unnoticed that her brother had parked his car almost at the other end of the sparsely populated lot, as if to keep as much distance from himself and the club as possible.
Ace flashed Nick a disapproving look. Yeah, she could just imagine what he thought. Ace’s closed-minded views were typical of conservative Haven. Most of those who were aware of the club saw it as something shameful and corrupt, a magnet for people wrong in the head, and Nick Kincaid was the Devil incarnate, sucking in innocent people like Gwen, who was too naïve to know she was being tainted by working for him.
Old Anton Gruber would roll over in his grave if he saw what his precious commune had become in the hundred years since he’d died. Some said that when he founded the town of Haven, Gruber had claimed Mount Seraph protected those who lived a Godly life, a life free from evil. A lot of people in this town were descendants of the founder’s original parishioners, so it was no surprise that those who were aware of the club would have disowned anyone they knew who frequented it. Funny how no one here minded accepting the revenue the club brought into the town.
According to Nick, he’d named the club The Sanctuary because he saw it as a safe place for those in the lifestyle to explore their kink free from the judgment that permeated most of Haven.
Nick took in Ace’s scowl. “He doesn’t like me much, does he?” He turned and waved at Ace as if he were an old friend, raising his voice so Ace could hear him. “Evening, Officer Stanton. You’re welcome to come in and play anytime.”
Gwen’s mouth dropped and her face paled, even while a laugh threatened to bubble up. Especially when Ace’s face turned livid and he muttered something darkly. “Nick. Jesus.”
Her boss snorted and grinned at her. “Sorry. Tight-assed people piss me off. If Zoe was out here, I’d have really played it up.”
If Zoe had been there, she could just imagine what he would have done. As a D/s couple, Nick and Zoe gave regular lessons at the club on how a healthy BDSM relationship worked. Which meant they knew exactly how to play to people’s fears and misconceptions.
She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry. My brother is a professional asshole. He doesn’t know how to be anything else.”
“Don’t be sorry. His actions are not your responsibility.” He took her hands. “Gwen, please be careful. Zoe and I love you. We’re worried about you.”
Affection for him welled in her. “I know. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Nick drew her into his warm embrace. “Get going before your brother decides to drag you from my clutches. See you tomorrow.”
Twenty minutes later at The Rib House, Ace led her to his favorite booth in the back. Suspicion and irritation with him tightened Gwen’s muscles.
“Ace, why did you bring me here? What do you want?”
He shrugged. “Can’t a brother take his sister to dinner?”
“Yeah right. You never spend any time with me unless you want something.”
A waitress came and Ace ordered for both of them, spaghetti for him and garden salad for Gwen.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you are.” He nodded the waitress away.
Gwen sighed and put a napkin in her lap. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, and the sooner she gave him what he wanted, the sooner she could leave. “So?” She waited for him to start.
Ace reached over and touched her hand. “Serious question, okay?”
“Sure.”
“When was the last time you were out with a guy? Friends don’t count.”
Oh, hell no. She snatched her hand out of his. The waitress dropped off rolls, a beer for Ace, and a water and salad for Gwen. Gwen soaked her salad in ranch dressing instead of answering.
“Hey.” Ace snatched the dressing out of Gwen’s hand and thumped it onto the table. “I got you that salad because you should be watching your weight.”
Ignoring his words, she dumped parmesan and bacon bits on the salad and speared a crouton.
“Come on, Gwen. I wanna know. When was the last time you went out with a guy?”
Three years, not that he needs to know that.
“Look, hear me out. I have a friend on the force. Nice guy, You’d hit it off.”
Another shake of her head before she sipped her water.
“I just want to see you with a nice man in your life. Someone who will treat you right. Isn’t it a brother’s duty to look out for his little sister?”
You mean you want me with someone who’ll keep me in line. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“He’s a good guy. A great cop. And he won’t care that you’re mousy, or that you hardly talk.”
A forced laugh escaped her. She didn’t miss the way he’d said that, as if her shyness was something a man would have to put up with.
“Yeah, right. Remember what happened last time, at that stupid policeman’s ball six months ago? That detective?”
“Frank.” He cocked his head, impatient. “I remember. He’s a good guy, too. He’s just… awkward with girls.”
“Ace, he kept going on about how a woman should behave. And he smelled strange.” She wrinkled her nose. “Like grandma’s attic.”
“That’s why you’re single, Gwen. You’re too picky. You want the perfect man.”
“No. Actually, I’m single because I want to be. When I am ready to have a man, I just want one who won’t treat me like…”
“Like what?” His voice had an edge to it.
“Like an afterthought.” Like you and Dad. At the roll of his eyes, she pulled in a long breath. “The last thing I want is to get involved with someone with what I’m going through right now.”
“What are you talking about?”
She looked at her plate. He didn’t believe me. “The stalker.” She bounced her knee, suddenly unable to sit still.
“Oh, for shit sake, are you still on about that?”
Gwen suppressed a sigh. Buying herself time, she took a bite of salad and chewed slowly, eyes on her plate. She might as well get it over with. “He sent me flowers today.”