Stirring Attraction (8 page)

 

Chapter Eight

L
ILY RAISED HER
hand and prepared to give the martini another shake. Maybe, after another round—­or ten—­she'd also shake off the ridiculous impulse to curl up half-­naked on the couch with the man who'd walked out of her life over and over.

Shake. Shake.

The man who'd made it clear he hadn't come home to stay. The man who didn't bother to leave the house unless he had someone to save—­

“Easy there,” her boss called. Noah stepped in front of her and gently slipped the thoroughly mixed drink from her hand. “I know this is only your second martini, but you just need to shake it for ten or fifteen seconds. If the customer orders it stirred, then you can go to town for a full minute. But if you stir with that much energy, you won't have anything left in the glass.”

“Sorry.” She handed the chilled glass to Noah.

“Not a problem. I don't expect all the kindergarten teachers that I hire to make a mean martini the first time or two.”

He flashed the easy smile he'd worn back in high school and the years afterward. He'd lost it for a while after he'd left the marines. But ever since Josie had walked back into his life, he seemed to be more and more his old self.

She stole a glance at the brooding, bearded man sitting at the far end of the bar. Maybe with enough time and care, Dominic could find his way back too . . .

Except “back” for him was the army. And she wasn't in any position to help him. Not when she still woke up screaming at night.

“Look, I'm not trying to stick my nose where it doesn't belong,” Noah said after the waiting customer disappeared with her drink. “But does your desire to shake that drink into submission have something to do with our friend sipping coffee at the end of the bar? I can make Dominic wait in his truck if that would be easier for you. To be honest, I wasn't a hundred percent on board with Josie's plan to drag him back here. Though I do think he needed someone to kick his ass into gear.”

But I'm not sure I'm the one for the job. Even though I'd like a glance at his ass. . .

She turned her gaze to Dominic. “No, I asked him to come inside.”

Even though part of her still held a grudge for how he'd pushed her away over and over while he went off to save the world, she wanted him here. She craved security and last night he'd provided. Along with eight hard inches of proof that he wanted to do more than peek at her panties . . .

She looked down at the rubber mat beneath her feet. Why did it have to be him? After all this time, why did she still want him? And what was she going to do about it?

“If you want him here, Lily, he can sip coffee all night,” Noah said, his voice gentle and so damn kind.

“Thanks.” She looked up at the man who'd been by Dominic's side almost as much as she had in high school and for some time afterward. “He's reviewing the police file for me. I was hoping to talk to him about it during my break.”

Noah nodded, his expression flashing “Pity! Pity” in the same way the neon Big Buck's sign announced the bar's location to the cars passing by outside. “I'm glad he's being useful for a change.”

“He's been a big help so far,” she admitted. “He's . . . comforting.”

To the point I want to slip into the back room and take a very different type of break.

“Good. Since he was shot, we haven't heard much from him. And before that it was all threats.” He raised his voice and looked over her shoulder in Dominic's direction. “I'd rather have him looking out for you than throwing punches at me for knocking up his little sister.”

Dominic raised his mug in a mock salute. “Just waiting for the right time.”

The door leading to the back room swung open and Josie walked in with the squirming baby in her arms. “Right time for what?” she demanded.

“To take a swing at him,” Dominic said.

Josie marched past the ser­vice entrance to the back of the bar and down past the row of empty barstools to where her brother sat. “Well, before you try to fulfill your big-­brother duties, I need you to hold Isabelle while I kiss her father.”

Dominic accepted the little girl, who looked like she'd rather be set loose to crawl around the barroom floor. But as soon as she settled onto her uncle's lap, she let out a squeal of delight and reached for his beard.

If he hadn't been holding the baby, Lily would have picked up the martini shaker and hurled it at him. Lying with her head on his lap and feeling the proof that he still wanted her had dialed her desire up to a nine. But seeing a glimpse at the future she'd always wanted—­Dominic and a baby—­pushed her into that dangerous place where she wanted something she couldn't have.

Lily looked away in time to see Josie slip into Noah's arms and kiss him, long and hard, audience be damned.

“I can do a lot of damage with one hand,” Dominic called.

Josie broke away from Noah. “Oh, stop it, Dom. If you wanted to hit him that badly, you would have come back and done it a while ago.”

“Probably,” he acknowledged. The little girl on his lap tugged on his beard and he turned his attention to her.

Having dealt with her brother, Josie turned to her. “How are you?”

And wasn't that a loaded question.
Still terrified of my own shadow
felt like the wrong answer. But
feeling like my ovaries are doing backflips at the sight of your brother with a baby
would probably lead to questions she couldn't answer. From Josie, Noah, and of course the man who managed to leave her feeling pissed off, turned on, and safe, all at once.

“Fine,” she said, though she stopped short of forcing a smile. That would probably be overkill.

“Josephine,” Dominic barked. “Stop looking at her like that. Lily is not about to fall apart. And if she was, bringing her in to work here probably wasn't your brightest idea.”

“I know she's not,” Josie snapped. “And there's nothing wrong with working here.”

“Noah has a reputation for taking in strays.” Lily jumped in before the siblings took their fight to the next level.

“Strays?” Dominic said.

“That's just because Noah picked up a box of kittens,” Josie explained.

And hired Josie when she came back to town, then quickly added Caroline to the staff.

Dominic slid off his stool. “Noah, how about giving Lily a break. Between the two of you and the baby, you should be able to manage the Sunday-­afternoon crowd.”

“Sure.” Noah accepted Isabelle, easily lifting the jubilant little girl across the bar. “The back room is all yours. I sent Caroline a text telling her not to come in today. Too slow.”

“Thanks.” Lily slipped around the happy family. She lifted the piece of polished wood separating the liquor and taps from the patrons. “I'll be back in fifteen. Then you can take off if you'd like. Now that I know how to mix drinks, I should be able to handle things here.”

Noah blew a raspberry on his daughter's belly and Lily picked up the pace, dragging her longing with her. Dominic stood by the swinging door to the back room. She rushed toward him as if he could offer the future she'd wanted since high school. And maybe this time, he could give it to her—­or a piece of it anyway.

She focused on the police file in his hands. Maybe Dominic had found something his dad had missed. Maybe he could slam the door on the feeling that someone was out there, hunting her, and it would stay closed.
If
he found him.

“Take your time—­”

The door swung shut behind her as she followed Dominic into the back room, blocking out Noah's voice.

The Employees Only space held an industrial-­sized dishwasher on the right, complete with stainless-­steel surfaces for loading and storing the racks. Boxes of liquor, wine cases, and kegs lined the walls. A door stood in the back, leading to the staff parking area. Lockers lined the wall on the left. Another door, this one to a bathroom, stood at one end. And a desk, piled high with papers, filled the remaining space.

“It's more storage than break room,” she said.

Dominic nodded and headed for the desk. He set down the file. Then, he picked up a pen, moved a few things around, and located a notepad.

“Have you found something?” she asked. “In the file?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I have an idea.”

Her hope surged but was quickly chased by doubt. What if he was trying to calm her? What if he wanted to avoid another night on her couch watching her sleep? He'd refused to let her take a shift watching over him. She'd waited until the sun rose, when her fears subsided, to offer. Still, the answer was no. Instead, he'd driven her over to his dad's place and taken a shower while she'd enjoyed eggs with the police chief again.

“I know you probably did this for one of the deputies, but I want you to make a list of anyone who might have held a grudge against you.”

She accepted the pen and paper from his outstretched hands. “You're right. I did this at the station. I couldn't come up with many names though.”

“No angry ex-­boyfriends?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Aside from you?”

“I'm not upset with you, Lily.” He ran his hand through his overgrown locks. “I'm just . . .”

“Determined to show the world your surly side?” She carried the pen and paper to the desk and sat down.

“I'm pissed off at how everything turned out.” He folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back.

“You can't change the past.” She glanced down at the blank piece of paper.

“No, but I can do something with your list. More than my dad and his deputies had time for, I'm guessing,” he said. “My father is good at his job. But he has a lot on his plate. When all the facts pointed to a random guy, and no other leads appeared, well, he set the case aside. It's been weeks and there's no proof someone is after you.”

Except in my imagination.

“It felt personal,” she said. How many times had she repeated those words? Each time hoping that someone would believe her. Because if they couldn't catch him, if they couldn't put an end to her paranoia, how was she going to show up for school and teach her kids? She couldn't tend bar forever. She barely knew how to shake up a drink.

I belong with five-­year-­olds.

“Is the list I made for the police even in the file?” she asked.

“It is,” he said. “But I want you to start from scratch. And take your time.”

“This won't take long,” she said as she picked up the pen. “My dad is the only person I've argued with recently. And I think I would have noticed if he came after me with a knife. Plus, he's back in rehab. Court-­ordered this time after a driving-­under-­the-­influence arrest.”

“Did he have any friends? Someone who might pick up his cause?” Dominic demanded.

“I put one of his old drinking buddies on the original list. Your father looked into him and said he was locked up in Salem that day. Plus, the guy who attacked me was younger. The men who spend their days drinking with my father aren't physically fit.”

“What about at work?” he asked.

She felt him move behind her and read over her shoulder as she jotted down the names she'd placed on the list for the police. “I get along with all of the other teachers. I love the principal.”

“Anyone jealous of Ted?” he asked.

“Again, just you.”

She added three additional names, writing “new” in parenthesis next to each one. Then she turned and handed him the paper. “Two disgruntled parents and a guy I met in a bar during a girls' night out. I never learned his last name and I don't recall what he looked like, but he went home with my friends. Shelby might know. She's a librarian in town.”

“I'll start with the unhappy parents.” He scanned the list. “Want to tell me what pissed Louis Stanton off?”

“Nothing really,” she said. “He wasn't listed as an approved adult to pick up his son. I think it had something to do with his divorce. I couldn't let him take his child, but he was very pleasant. He took the form and agreed to send it in to the main office. I'm not sure if he did, but he didn't show up at pickup again. According to his son, he works out of state.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “A five-­year-­old would know that?”

“You'd be amazed at what they pick up. On the first day of school last year, one of my kids informed me that her parents always sleep naked.”

“Another important fact to know for dismissal time?”

“Not exactly.”

He glanced down at the list. “What about this last name?”

She sighed. “Mitch kept trying to send his son to school with a peanut butter sandwich. And we're a nut-­free school. He is hotheaded, but not the right build.”

“He could have hired someone,” Dominic pointed out.

“Over peanut butter?”

“Didn't say it was likely, but it's a place to start.” He folded the list and slipped it into his pocket.

“You really are taking this seriously.” She stood and came face-­to-­chest with a wall of muscle covered in a plain black T-­shirt. She placed her palms against his chest and looked up at him. “Thank you for believing me.”

“You've never lied to me.” He covered her left hand with his right. “And it's not like I have a lot going on right now. I've got the time to play detective.”

Her free hand moved as if needing to touch more, to feel his skin. She traced the curve of muscle through his shirt. She reached the neckline and traveled over his collarbone to his throat. He'd possessed a powerful body before he'd been shot. And while he'd lost weight during his recovery, he'd clearly spent the months since his release working out. She could feel the power beneath her fingers.