Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (4 page)

When closing time finally rolled around, she didn't even bother to count out the register or do a deposit. It just didn't seem to be worth the effort. She locked everything up, set the alarm and wrestled with the metal security gate to get it down over the front of the store. There was something that stuck, every single time. This time felt like the end of the world.

“Need a hand?”

Drea jolted at the question, turned to see Monroe standing there. She'd been so involved with the gate she hadn't even heard him.“No, I've got it,” she said.

“Really?” His eyes were full of amusement. “Carry on, then. I'll wait.”

Drea released the gate; it rolled back up with a thud. “What's going on, Monroe? Why are you here?”

“I came here to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted the other night. I was in a shitty mood and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that,” he said.

Drea wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say but that certainly wasn't that. “I'll forgive you if you help me get the gate down,” she said.

“I can do better than that. I'll come back tomorrow with some tools and fix it altogether, all but for now, I can get it down.” He stepped forward, gripped the gate, pulled, and nothing happened. Drea had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing at the surprised look on his face. He pulled again; the muscles in his arms bulged with the effort, but the gate came down.

“Thanks,” Drea wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to him. For a moment, they just looked at each other. “So, I guess I should go.”

“Wait, have dinner with me,” he said. “And before you say it, I'm not seeing the woman I told you about anymore. Turns out, she was actually seeing someone else,” he admitted.

Drea's first instinct was to refuse, but the look on his face gave her pause. “Fuck it,” she blurted out. “Why not?

“Fuck it?” He smiled with amusement.

“Fuck it,” she confirmed with a laugh.

“You're really not dressed for riding,” he pointed out. “I could follow you back to your place. You need some boots and some jeans, though I really like the skirt.”

“Or we could just take my car,” Drea suggested, though something told her that he wasn't going to agree to that.

“I'd rather take the bike. You'll like it. Have you ever ridden before?”

Drea had. Uncle Tony had taken her on the weekends when he could; they'd ride until she found something she wanted to see and then they'd stop. He'd called it their adventures. She didn't realize how much she'd missed them until right now. The acid tears were back, burning against her eyes like wildfire. “I have. We don't have to go back to my place to change. I've just got to go back inside, I've got clothes here. I'll be right back.”

“Okay,” he looked at her with a quizzical expression but made no comment. Drea was glad for that as she moved over to the gate. “Wait, I'll get it for you.” He pulled it up with ease.

She couldn't meet his eyes as she went back inside. “You can come in if you want,” she offered but didn't turn to see if he'd done so. Drea headed for the office. Most of the things that she bought online came right to the store. The week before she'd gotten carried away while drunk shopping, so there were several bags of clothes; something had to work for a bike ride. She'd even ordered a few pairs of boots because they were on sale so she'd be all set.

It took only a few minutes for her to change, and to pull herself together the best she could. The blast of memory of her rides with Uncle Tony had opened up an ache inside of her. It was easy to forget how much she actually missed him, missed having someone who she could really talk to. When Drea came out of the office, Monroe was looking through the racks of bathing suits. “See anything you like, I'll give you a discount.”

“They're really nice, but not my style,” he turned with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“I am,” Drea replied. “Where are we going?”

“You'll see. I think that you'll like it.”

The good thing about the bike was that there was no need for conversation; forced small talk made Drea's skin crawl. As soon as she got on behind him, more memories flashed through her mind. She dwelled in them as she wrapped her arms around him. The engine roared to life; it was almost too much, but then they were moving.

Riding behind Monroe was nothing like riding behind Uncle Tony. Uncle Tony had been a big man, more fat than muscle. Monroe was leaner, more defined, from what she could feel beneath her hands. Drea let her hands slide down lower, pressed her face against his back and tried to ignore the hum of the bike beneath them. Something inside her was soothed by the rush of the wind, the feeling almost like they were flying, like they were free.

Drea felt a sharp twinge of disappointment when the ride ended. He'd taken the long route, but they were at the waterfront. It was the first time that she'd seen it at night, it was prettier than she'd expected with all of the lights. There were at least half a dozen boats out on the water. “It's nice down here at night,” Drea commented as she slid off the bike and removed her helmet.

“You've never been down here at night before?” Monroe seemed surprised.

“I get out of work late, I'm usually tired.” Drea wondered what else she'd missed. Her life had fallen into a routine, which was what she wanted, but it had also become very solitary. No wonder she'd been overwhelmed with unexplained sadness; her ride with Monroe was probably the longest human interaction she'd had in a while.

“Yeah, I know that feeling. There are some great restaurants down here. Are you ready to eat, or do you want to walk around a little first?”

“I'm actually hungry,” Drea replied. “Which restaurant are we going to?”

“That one.” He motioned to a restaurant close to the water with tables on a  patio. “Unless you'd rather eat inside, they've got tables in there too.”

“Outside sounds nice,” Drea replied. “Don't we need a reservation or something?”

“Normally, yes, but I know the family who own it. They've always got a table if I want one,” he explained as they started across the street.

There wasn't much chance for talking after that. The moment they entered the building and the hostess saw them, they were whisked through to the back patio and a table with an amazing view. Monroe looked a little embarrassed at the fuss that the woman made over him. Drea wondered if they'd been involved and that was how he knew the family, but she didn't want to ask.

It turned out, she didn't need to. Once they were settled at the table, Monroe turned to her. “I should probably explain the warm reception. I met the owners, Beth and Kyle, when their son was murdered during a mugging. I was assigned the case. I found the man who'd pulled the trigger. He's in jail now, and he'll be there for a very long time.”

“That's good. I'm glad that you found him.” Drea couldn't help but wonder how it worked with him being part of Nightshade now. She imagined that he crossed paths with people he'd arrested or jailed. Didn't they harbor some resentment? She could clearly remember the first cop who had arrested her, for underaged drinking, even though it had been years.

“It doesn't bring their boy, Jasper, back,” Monroe pointed out.

“Nothing can,” Drea told him. “They can go to sleep at night knowing the man who took their son isn't walking the streets. That's something important, Monroe.”

“I guess,” he said, an edge of something she couldn't place in his voice. “Anyway, enough about that. How was your day?”

“Slow,” she replied, unsure if she should bring up Buster's visit and the subsequent decision, but that might make things weird. Or maybe not bringing it up made it weird, if he knew about it. “How was yours?”

“Pretty good. We got a lot of work done on this house the construction company just picked up. It's got gorgeous bones, but it's a complete wreck.”

“You like construction work?”

“I like seeing things come together. And I'm always learning something new, which is nice. You like running a shop?” Monroe leaned forward as if he were actually interested in her response.

Drea felt her stomach flip. “I do, most days. Of course, there are some days I wish I'd just opened an umbrella stand on the beach. At least that way I could work on my tan.”

“I don't know how you deal with people all day long. People can be assholes. I couldn't do it,” he said.

“Didn't you do it like every day when you were on the force? Protect and serve refers to the public, right?” she asked.

He laughed at that. It was a good laugh, a rumbling sound that came from deep inside of him, along with a smile that made her stomach flip again. “I got to arrest the assholes most days,” he answered. “And having a badge brings a certain amount of respect to it, well, at least with some people. Working retail doesn't. No offense.”

“Why would I be offended? Sure, there are some people who make it a level of hell but most are decent. Some are even nice. And wait a second, being an asshole is an arrestable offense? Because I've got a whole list of people to turn in.”

He laughed again. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Drea was surprised at the ease that she felt with him. Maybe it was the day she'd had, or the way that she'd been lonely. Maybe it was something else. Drea didn't know. Truth was that she'd never been good at figuring out things like this or relationships in general. Her last boyfriend had been a real gem, a junkie who knew how to play on her sympathy until he moved on, but she wasn't thinking about him.

“Why did you decide to open Love and Lace?”

“I like to wear pretty things under my clothes,” Drea admitted. “And I always thought that if you're going to get the sexy clothes, you should be able to get the sexy toys, if you're so inclined. So, I decided that it was a brilliant idea to open up a store that combined both.”

“Why Detroit?” His eyes were on hers, his stare intent.

Drea could easily imagine him in an interrogation room, getting criminals to talk with just that stare. “Something about the city spoke to me. It's a tough place, that's for sure, and it's had a tough time, but people dug their heels in, some of them, at least. And it's beautiful, not just this part.” Drea motioned out to the water. “There's beauty even in the hardest-hit parts, in the way that nature is taking things back even as just a few blocks away there are kids playing outside. When I was looking for my house, I saw so many beautiful places but they were just too far gone for my budget. There was this one old Victorian, it had a wrap around porch and at least an acre of property. I really wanted that one, but it was too far gone. It would have to be demolished and built from the ground up.”

“There's a lot of places like that, especially around my house,” he told her. “I remember how the neighborhood used to look. People were so proud of their homes. And then the foreclosures started, people losing their jobs and everything else. Everything started to fall apart after that.”

“Have you lived there long?” Drea asked. Nerves rose and fluttered inside of her when a dark look crossed his face. Small talk wasn't her strong suit. Had she asked something too personal?

“This time around, about a year,” he said after a pause. “I grew up there. Lived there until I went off to the police academy. I got my own place once I graduated.”

“What made you want to be a cop?” Drea asked. “If that's too personal or whatever, you don't have to tell me.”

“It's not. My neighborhood was rough, filled with lots of hard-working people who only scraped by no matter how hard they worked. I was lucky, my mother had a job that paid well. So did my grandmother. There wasn't anything I needed that I didn't have. My friends, well they didn't even have what they needed most of the time. Some of them decided that there were easier ways than working your fingers to the bone, started selling drugs, boosting cars or doing whatever else paid. I watched friends go to jail for life sentences. I didn't want that to be me, so I went the other way.” He shrugged his shoulders as if it weren't important. Drea thought that it was, she thought that it told her a lot about the man Monroe was. “What about you? Did you always want to be a shop owner?” He changed the subject smoothly.

Drea let him. “No. I didn't really want to be anything. I went to college, took a lot of classes. I changed majors a lot.” And much to Uncle Tony's disappointment, she'd never finished any of them. Instead, she'd flamed out a handful of credits shy of a degree and started working at whatever job struck her fancy. “I worked some retail, that's what got me thinking about a store.”

“I like your store. I've heard great things about your back room,” he grinned. “Caesar is a fan.”

“He's a good customer,” Drea replied.

“What's the craziest thing he's bought?” Monroe leaned forward again. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I can't tell you that,” she shook her head.

“There's no such thing as sex shop owner client privilege,” he pointed out.

“How do you know? Are you a lawyer?” Drea felt herself smiling. The ease that she felt with him was a surprise, a good surprise. It had been a long time since she'd felt the warmth that flowed through her, the tingle of excitement at the idea of something new.

“I might be. I'm a man of many talents.” He winked at her. “Here comes Beth. I hope that you're hungry.”

“We didn't even order yet,” Drea turned to look over her shoulder and saw a pretty blonde woman coming towards them carrying a tray of drinks. Behind her was another woman with a tray of food.