She didn’t say anything else. I wanted to give her some grand reassurance, but I wouldn’t lie to her. I opened the car door for her, and she curled into the leather seat, flipping her phone case over and over in her lap. Leather to leather to leather. That’s how I lived these days. My ass hadn’t sat on anything but it in so long I wasn’t sure it would know what to do when I did.
We didn’t say anything once we’d gotten into the car, and after almost wearing out the phone, Jada fell asleep. She stayed that way for the rest of the hour-long trip from Hartford down to New London. The silence had me reliving every moment of the last week, trying to figure out what else may have tipped them off. By the time I pulled into the driveway of her house, I still hadn’t found my answer.
I tried to shake her awake, but she barely budged. That was when I knew she’d had more than alcohol. Tranquilizers were her favor of choice when she felt really out of control.
I scooped her up, unlocked the front door with my thumb to the scanner, and headed down the marble-floored hallway to her bedroom. I laid her down, brushing the tangle of curls away from her face. The black tones shimmered with purple and blue in the pale light of the Tiffany lamp.
She was beautiful. Devastatingly tortured and beautiful. A combination that many men would find fascinating, but there was nothing between Jada and me but friendship. Trust manufactured out of necessity.
She looked up at me with heavily hooded eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slurring.
“Do I need to stay?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nah, just going to sleep it off.”
“You have to be more careful,” I said, chest twisting again.
“I know,” she said and then was out once more.
I watched her chest expand and contract for a few minutes before I reached over and slid off her heels. Pulling the covers from underneath her, I drew them up over her shoulder. I rubbed my hand over my face. Mixed in with the exhaustion was enough frustration and fear to leave me wired instead of ready to pass out.
I watched her sleep until I was certain she’d be okay and then left.
Full of energy that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, I drove into downtown New London at a pace as stupid as everything else in my life these days. I parked at the pier and jogged into the coffee shop, catching glances for the short-sleeved T-shirt, deck shorts, and boat shoes layering my body. I was clearly out of place. The people out and about this morning were all dressed in jeans and sweaters as a breeze blew in, reminding everyone it was no longer summer.
My eyes swept the room, noticing the small line waiting to order and the group at a table near the register. A slender guy with black hair, too much hair gel, and dark eyes was standing in dress pants and a button-down, talking to two couples. He looked like he was holding court, and I wanted to snort at the image. True power usually came in a much quieter form. I’d seen it firsthand.
I placed my order, and as I waited for my extra-large espresso, I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation the group was having.
“So, you’re here with your girlfriend, then? Where are you staying?” one of the ladies asked him.
He looked pained for a moment. “It’s a great little B&B called Books and Beds by the Sea.”
I groaned internally. I hated when Mandy and Leena had a bunch of lovebirds staying at the place. It wasn’t the PDA. Hell, Jada and the circle she traveled in could raise the bar on PDA levels faster than I could change gears. It was something deeper. The memories of my own affection for a girl I was never supposed to have.
“Books and Beds by the Sea, huh? That’s quite a name. Do you recommend it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really have a lot of experience with B&Bs. I’m only there because my girlfriend is taking care of the place for a few weeks.”
That raised every single alert in my body to DEFCON 3, and I was at his side in two steps.
“What the hell?” I asked.
The guy stiffened, turning to take me in, and I knew what he saw. He saw a man stuck in a surfer-like lifestyle. A man who should have moved on to a career and a family and gold card but who was a slacker instead. It was an image I’d perfected. It clashed with the Aston Martin sitting outside enough that it threw people for a loop when they saw me get into it. It clashed with the suits and tuxedos I had to wear when Dax and I did business. But it was the me I preferred. Relaxed. Ready for the water.
“Excuse me?” he demanded.
“You heard me. What the hell is this?” I repeated, even when I didn’t need to.
He didn’t like my challenging him, but I also saw confusion streak across his face.
“Not sure it’s any of your business,” he said.
The four or five inches I had on him caused me to hover over him, shadowing him with my height and my bulk. While I wasn’t intimidated by him at all, he had the attitude of someone who thought I should be, his professional attire outranking my beachwear.
“Books and Beds by the Sea will always be my business,” I told him. Leena and Mandy’s place was not only my landing spot whenever I was in town, they were my family. More family than my own parents.
Mom had been all about children raising themselves. She’d been flighty, in and out, barely there. Dad had been all about his image as sheriff and the sparkly, younger wife on his arm. Neither parent had actually cared if I’d come home at the end of the day unless whatever I was doing blemished Dad’s reelection chances.
It wasn’t until I’d moved here with Truck and had seen how Mandy and Leena treated Mandy’s son, as well as Violet and Jersey, that I’d really understood familial love. Mandy and Leena had taken that same affection and concern and wrapped it around Truck and me without hesitation, even when I’d been a moody, grumpy bastard.
So, to have this no-name powermonger say his girlfriend was running their place was never, ever going to fly with me.
When I didn’t back down, he seemed to deflate a little. “I don’t know who you are, but Violet is running the place at the moment. Maybe you missed the company memo?”
My entire insides seized up at Violet’s name rolling off his lips, my vision filling with huge lavender eyes that sparkled and shone like the diamonds on Jada’s phone case. But then his words settled into me, and my insides squeezed tightly together.
Violet was his girlfriend.
Double fuck.
“Where’s Leena?” I scowled.
“Again. Not. Your. Business.” He turned and sauntered out of the place, sipping at the cup in his hand. He didn’t have anything in his other hand, which meant he wasn’t bringing anything back to his girlfriend…to Violet, who loved caramel macchiatos more than life—or at least she had.
I yanked my personal phone out of the trio in my pocket, turned it back on, and slammed out a text to my brother.
ME: Why is Vi running the B&B with some asshole?
This was the last thing I needed right now. Violet. Leena. Distractions.
I grabbed my espresso and stomped my way out to the car while I waited for a response to my question. A glance at the time had me cringing. I hadn’t even thought about San Francisco being three hours behind New London. Truck would either be asleep with his body wedged up tight against his wife, or he’d be on duty. I might have to wait hours for a reply.