Wreck Me (9 page)

I walk through the door and hear the familiar dinging of the old silver bell above the door. I walk three steps into the store and see nothing but packing crates and tissue paper. The sight of it all drives it home that we are closing and it makes me angry with everything. “Son-of-a-bitch!” I spin around on my heels, sweep three fat hard backs from the closest shelf and stack them on the floor in front of the door. I step up on them and snatch the familiar silver bell down with force. The thin leather strap it hangs from snaps and I dust off the bell before shoving it into my bag. I’m pissed. Sutton may have the power to close up shop, but dammit I am taking this fucking bell!

“I called you an hour and a half ago. ASAP means as soon as possible. Where have you been?”

“Thank you for clearing that up for me Captain Obvious. I was banging this guy I may or may not know.” I answer honestly in the most flat, indifferent tone I can conjure up. Fucking nosey ass Sutton really knows how to pluck each and every one of my nerves. He scoffs and navigates his thin frame between two tall stacks of boxes.

“I have a buyer for about two-thirds of our inventory so we need it boxed, labeled and ready for delivery by the end of today.”

“Great,” I draw out feigning excitement. He is undoubtedly going to go lounge in his office where he will likely snooze for most of the day while I bust my ass to get this gargantuan amount of books packed up. The bastard could at the very least get the labels done while I do the lifting and packing. But, that’s Sutton for you. Grumpy. Lazy. Asshole. We tolerate each other but most days he makes me feel like some pesky annoyance and I do my best to make him feel ancient. We are two birds of a feather really. We work well together. Truth is I guess I am just as pissy and grumpy as he is. It has got to be why he won’t hire anyone else. I don’t think anyone could work for him anyway. If he hired help for me they would quit the first day. Once they got a dose of both of us the poor sucker would high tale it to the nearest therapist. I can be just as rough as Sutton I guess. I don’t even realize when I am doing it. Sutton will come to me, and remind me of how much of a raging bitch I was to a customer, and honest to God I don’t mean to. It’s a natural kind of royal bitchiness I suppose. I don’t mean it, and sometimes I feel bad about it. I try to tone it down, but I am just one of those generally unhappy people. If you’re looking for lollipops and rainbows while you shop for the latest best seller, you best not come to me. I won’t chat you up and tell you how cute your kid is. I won’t smile and flirt. I won’t stroke your ego about the jewelry you are wearing or the shirt you have on. I will help you find what you need. I will recommend books and hell I even talk about what I liked about one book over another but all that other shit is just not my thing. I remember when I waltzed into the store to ask for a job. Sutton’s shiny bald head was barely visible from behind the counter and I waited for him to get up. He popped up from behind the counter and damn near had a fucking stroke. I guess he probably thought I was going to rob him or something. I looked like your typical homeless kid even though I did my best to clean up before I came to the store.

“Geez, cool it chief. I’m not going to bite.” Sutton’s brow’s rocketed up his face at mock speed. I guess I surprised him with my mouth. It happens a lot.

“And who the hell are you?”

“Miss USA and you?”

“Captain America. Can I help you?” I couldn’t help but giggle under my breath.

“Fitting name. I want a job,” I state very matter of fact. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me like I have sprouted a second head right in front of his eyes.

“And why in the hell would I hire a bum?”

“I can tell you why. I love books. Probably more than you. I have likely read every book in here at this very moment. I can tell you authors names along with their works off the top of my head. I live in a book most days and dream of them most nights. I’m honest. I know how to work my ass off and I wouldn’t bail on you. Clearly I am in no position to throw away a steady job. Not hiring me would be a loss on your part
Captain.
”

“Favorite author?”

“J.D. Salinger.”

“Catcher Rye huh?”

“You got it.”

“Fine. Your hired. But you have to clean yourself up more. I don’t want to smell you and neither do the customers. My granddaughter has left for college and she has old clothes in my attic. I can bring you some decent pants and shirts. Just this once though. Once you get your first pay check I’ll expect you to look presentable, girl.”

“Jo. My name is Jo. Call me that or nothing at all.”

“Fine. I’m Mr. Sutton. See you tomorrow morning, Jo. Don’t be late or I’ll fire you.”

“I’ll be here, Captain.”

I’m snapped out of my lamenting when my phone buzzes against my butt cheek. I stand and pull it from my pocket. I have a text from Mr. Tall, dark and handsome.

Can I steal you away for lunch? Subs?

I sigh. I honestly would love to see Damon right about now. I could use the distraction from this disaster, but I can’t go. I have entirely too much to do around here. I plan on conning Sutton into ordering takeout for us. He’ll do it. He always does. I send a text back.

Sounds great but I can’t. Swamped here.

I hate that I have to spend my lunch with Sutton instead of Damon. I am teetering on the edge of a total nuclear meltdown today. I am dealing with the after effects of the sixteenth anniversary of the accident, I had an awful nightmare reliving all those feelings of abandonment, and I agreed to…whatever with Damon. I feel so unlike myself and it’s fucking with my head. I could use a glass of wine or two. I stride over to Sutton’s office and walk right in. The old grump is knocked out cold in his old chair.

“Sutton!” The old man lurches up out of his seat looking like he is going to have a coronary and I end up feeling just a tad guilty for startling him.

“God-bless-it Jo! You scared the shit out of me.”

“You wear those old man diapers so you’ll be okay. Are you going to order some lunch for your slave girl or shall I starve while you dash my hopes and dreams?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Jo. You know this is hard on me too. What the hell do you want to eat?”

“We can order Chinese from that place you like.”

“Gives me heart burn.”

“Everything gives you heart burn,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk out of his office to get the menu from under the front counter.

“Holy hell! You scared the shit out of me!” I nearly jump out of my skin at the sight of Damon holding a big brown paper sack in front of the counter.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You said you were swamped so I thought you would like some lunch?” He grins feeling very proud of his charming gesture, no doubt. It is nice. I smile and snatch the bag from him.

“What the hell did you bring? This thing is heavy!” He shrugs and looks sheepish again which does something weird to my insides. I get all mushy when he looks at me with those bashful amber eyes.

“I don’t really know what you like yet, so I bought one of each.” There are enough sub sandwiches in the bag to feed a dozen people. I can’t believe he would order all this food. I would have eaten whatever he brought. The gesture alone has me feeling gushy and giddy on the inside. It’s bizarre.

“Oh and I didn’t know what you wanted to drink so I got a variety.”

“Thank you.” I smile broad and I swear it feels like the first time I have smiled…ever.

“You’re breath taking, you know that?” His voice is low and lust filled. It makes my insides stir and crave his touch. I set the bag on the counter and then take the other bag from his hand and turn to set it on the counter. I step forward and get up on tip toes to kiss him. I wrap my arms around his neck and his chiseled arms enfold me. He pulls me into him and lifts me from my feet. I lean in to cover his mouth with mine and do my best to show him my appreciation. Not just for the lunch, but for the distraction too. I feel like my world is crumbling beneath my feet but Damon walks in and I have something to grab onto. It’s frightening and comforting all in the same. His velvet tongue slips over my lips and moves rhythmically against mine. I moan into his mouth and his arms tighten around me. I can feel his erection pressed against me and damn I wish we were at his place right about now. I can feel my skin turn flush with heat and arousal. I break away from his amazing lips and press my cheek to his while I catch my breath.

“Has anything come to mind yet?”

“No.” I answer honestly. I still have no clue why I feel like I know him and really haven’t had much time today to explore my memories.

“You?”

“No. Nothing.”

“Let’s eat.” He lays another kiss on my lips before setting me to my feet. I sigh and grab his hand to lead him. I pop my head into Sutton’s office. The old bastard is sleeping again. Pitiful. Maybe it’s a good thing the store is closing. He really should have retired a long time ago. I don’t want to give him another heart attack but I know he is hungry.

“Pssst!” His eyes crack open and he peers at me sleepily. I grin and hold up the bag.

“Looky, looky Captain. Come eat old man.” He rumbles and grumbles under his breath as he sits up and stands from that rickety chair. One day it’s going to give out and he is going to break a fucking hip. I’ve told him that, but he ignores me. We sit down at the small table at the back of the store and I drag over an extra chair for Damon. I dig out the multitude of subs and make the introductions. “Damon this is my boss Stanley Sutton. Sutton this is my friend, Damon Cole.” They shake hands and Sutton eyes Damon speculatively.

“Friend huh?” Sutton grumbles. I give him the stink eye, but he ignores it. I’m afraid he has grown accustomed to my dirty looks over the years.

“Yep. Friends. That alright by you?” Damon says nothing while watching me verbally duke it out with Sutton.

“Fine by me as long as nothing interferes with your work.” He stares across the small table at Damon and they are exchanging some subliminal man thing. I don’t get it but, whatever. I have never introduced Sutton to anyone I have hooked up with for obvious reasons. I have the feeling Sutton may be a tiny bit territorial here. Maybe he is being protective?

“Okay boys, chill out. Let’s eat. Sutton you want the ham with Swiss right?” I don’t have to ask. I have been ordering his food for seven years. I know him better than even he knows himself some days.

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he pops open a soda. I glance at Damon and he watches me observantly. I sort through the sandwiches and choose one for myself. Damon picks one and we all devour our food. I begin clearing our mess and putting away the left-over food.

“Damon, may I have a word?” I pause and shoot a death glare in Sutton’s direction. He doesn’t even acknowledge my irritation.

“Of course.” I snap my attention to Damon and he winks at me before following Sutton into his office. I hear the door click shut and I debate on whether or not I should eavesdrop. Fuck it. I don’t care. Let them talk. I finish cleaning up from lunch and busy myself with labels while I wait on Mr. Tall dark and handsome to reappear. A full half an hour later I hear the office door open and Damon walks toward me. I can’t help it. I want to know what they were talking about.

“I have to get back to the office. I have some time sensitive matters that need my attention. Walk me out?”

“Sure.” He extends his hand to me and I take it. He leads us out the front door and we walk at a snail’s pace to his car. This time he is driving a BMW and it matches his appearance. He looks amazing in his gray suit, dusky blue shirt, and silver tie.

“You should know that he loves you.” I snap my head back in shock.

“What?”

“Sutton. He loves you. Trust me.” I scoff and shake my head.

“He does not love me. That’s total bullshit. He can barely stand me and trust me the feeling is mutual.” He shakes his head and chuckles in amusement. He releases my hand and cups my face in his big hands. My heart speeds and my stomach flutters. He is just so damn handsome and charming. He has no glitches. He seems to be perfect aside from his semi-screwed up childhood. He has got to be too good to be true. Has to.