OUTSIDE IN WAS Lydia’s baby – second only to Jax. She poured her heart and soul into that place when she first settled in McKenzie Ridge, and it had become a thriving business since.
The idea was born when Meg and Sam Tayler saw a similar concept in Portland a few years prior, when Esteban had been closing in. McKenzie Ridge needed a place for locals to take their children during winter months to burn off energy and get out of the house. Tourists needed somewhere safe for their kids to play, supervised, while grownups did their adulting.
Meg was busy with her flower shop, Blooming Grounds, and a new baby. Sam had her hands full with her two children and one on the way. Lydia had a broken heart and plenty of time, so she ran with it. With Blooming Grounds serving food and drink at Outside In, it became the town hotspot for the mommy and me crowd by day, and mommy and daddy spot in the evenings when Blooming Grounds hosted local wine and beer tastings. It served every season, every niche, and was plain brilliant.
Declan stood in the entry, taking in the place. He felt a sense of pride. She had done an outstanding job – the place was booming, and it was barely past breakfast.
A wide-eyed teen hadn’t let him through the gate yet. She couldn’t stop blushing, staring, and was at a loss for words with hearts in her eyes. Declan stared back with an uncomfortable bewildered look, unsure what to do or say to get past the now drooling, teenaged gatekeeper.
Out of nowhere, Lydia appeared and slapped him on the chest with a colorful t-shirt in her hand. “Short staffed today; make the shirt work.”
He held up the hot pink tiny tee that said Happy Helper across the front and back with a neon green hand print on each sleeve. “What the hell?”
“Language,” the teen corrected.
He nodded at the kid, and quickly caught up to Lydia for clarification. “What do you mean, make it work.”
“You want to follow me around today? You work – I need extra hands. Free soda and water from the food bar, lunch is on the house, no beer or wine while on shift,” she said in drill sergeant fashion.
“Beer and Wine? Wait, lunch? How long do you plan on being here?” he asked, looking around as the ear piercing volume of the place was already getting to him.
“All day.” She unexpectedly slapped something else against his chest, forcing him to catch it before it fell. “That’s your apron; keep it on at all times.”
Declan looked at the bright purple tool belt that she called an apron, holding it out in front of himself with an oh shit look plastered on his face. Rather than manly tools in the purple belt, it held hand sanitizer, tissues, baby wipes, band aids, and a whistle – he wasn’t sure what the rest of the stuff was.
Lydia turned him where he stood, facing him toward the back of the space. “Bathrooms are that way. Go change; I need you on the big jungle gym.”
He stared at the monstrosity she was referring to that was covered in children and asked, “What do I do on it?”
“You don’t get on it. You monitor it. If a kid is bad, warn them. Second warning, time out square.” She pointed to a bright green corner with a 3D square painted on the floor and walls to look like a fully enclosed box. “Third time, they’re off of it for the day.”
“Three strikes, you’re out rule. Cool,” he said under his breath.
“What? Strikes?” She gave him a strange look…must not be a baseball fan.
Declan manned the playground like he was training soldiers. The kids stood in a straight orderly line, took turns, cheered each other on, even timed each other through the jungle gym like it was some sort of obstacle course. A couple of surly kids wouldn’t go to time out, nor leave the jungle gym when Dec gave them their third and final warning. With a kid under each arm, he walked them to the swarming mommy mafia, lined up against the half wall that separated the play area from the eating area, and returned the unruly duo to their parents.
The moms didn’t seem to mind that their kids were held with the bulging biceps of a hot stranger. Lydia, however, took notice of the crowd he pulled in and didn’t care for how they were looking at Declan. Each laid her grubby hands on an arm or brushed a hand across his chest as they smiled, laughed, and flirted their way through brief conversations. They may as well have pulled out dollar bills and ripped his clothes off – wrong kind of club.
It didn’t seem to faze Declan though. He was either dumb or blind because he didn’t respond in the least to the boob brigade who suddenly had lower cut shirts and needed to bend over a lot. Fed up with what she saw, and sick of how often he used the damn whistle, she removed him from the jungle gym and put him on mopping. Bad idea. His height, mixed with a standard mop, meant lots of bending and flexing as he went. There was snow on the ground outside, and these women were peeling off layers and fanning themselves.
Jax had fallen and hurt himself, nothing major, however Declan was there, making it better in only seconds. Now it was Lydia’s heart that was melting. She was mad at herself for being so affected by him still.
Since his unannounced arrival the night before, she found herself pushing away memories, and even feelings, that were trying to resurface. She was over him and didn’t understand how quickly he was able to undo all the hard work she had done, forgetting him. All just by being there. Now, add Jax to the equation, and she wanted to push Declan away fast and hard before he could break her little boy’s heart. But, seeing the two like this, it was hard to do that, too. She was a mess, he was hot, and she needed him to go before he won, and she wound up naked underneath him.
By noon, Dec was taking a break in Lydia’s office, exhausted from chasing and cleaning up after the toddler terrorists. Lydia walked in and began to gather her stuff, getting ready to leave.
“The next shift is here,” she said, without even looking his way.
He sat up in his chair, excited at the notion, with childlike enthusiasm. “We’re leaving?”
She raised her brow and gave him a perplexed look. “Unless you want to stay…”
He jumped to his feet and tossed his purple tool belt on her desk before pulling his too tight hot pink t-shirt over his head, giving her a show while he found his way into his own shirt. “Nope! Let’s go. I got the kid.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he caught her eyes still stuck on him, and it dawned on him why she was just standing there with a befuddled look. He flexed his arms a little and bounced his pecs, which quickly knocked her from her trance. She was caught.
“Seriously? Grow up – there’s a bathroom across the hall,” she said defensively, trying to deflect her embarrassment.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “besides, you’re not allowed in the boys’ room, so you would have missed it – you’re welcome.”
Eye rolling seemed to be her best defense mechanism of late, so she tossed him one, suggesting she wasn’t impressed with his bullshit, and said, “Cute. Look, Meg and Colton were supposed to show us the new rescue dog Colton is trying to rehome. They’ll just take Jax, then you and I can talk about why you’re really here.”
They found themselves at The Pumphouse, a local favorite. It was an old Mercantile and Gas Station converted to a very public, busy, family-friendly Roadhouse-style restaurant and bar. The very public and busy part appealed to Lydia. She was angry with him, but in less than twenty-four hours, he’d already managed to stir butterflies and emotions she’d rather have left dormant. She needed to stay mad, needed to keep him at arm’s length, needed to protect her heart this time.
Sitting in a semi-private corner booth, Declan filled her in on why he was there. Having spent so much time on the road with him, she knew how he operated. When his eyes roamed the space, and he watched every person come in and out, his insistence on taking the corner seat that faced the restaurant’s activity made sense. He was watching for danger, a threat – trouble was back in McKenzie.
She was grateful to have her back to the crowd. It made hiding her tears that described the amount of fear, now coursing through her, easier to hide. Esteban was dead, but Tom Boyd wasn’t. He had been in a Federal prison for his crimes linked to Esteban, including multiple murders on his own hands from killing his team. He was out. Somehow, someone got him out, and he wasn’t easy to find because he wasn’t going back.
Evidence found in a building near the prison indicated that he not only had been there, but he was headed to Oregon. Likely McKenzie Ridge. He had a score to settle.
“So what do we do? Run? I can’t do that to Jax,” she pleaded.
“No,” he calmly replied, “we wait.”
Panic took over, and she was reeling. “Why would we do that, Dec? My son…”
“Will be safe,” he interrupted, grabbing both of her hands, offering comfort. “I’m not leaving, and my brothers are on him. We’re okay. I promise.”
“Your team – are they here too?” Though only one ended up being a traitor and the rest, who’d survived, seemed to be genuinely nice guys, she feared the idea of them coming back. What if they were more loyal to Tom than Declan? It was unlikely as they lost friends, their brothers, to Tom’s evil scheming, but there was a time when even Tom was thought to be safe and loyal.
“I retired. I’m done with that. I just work with my brothers now.” He hoped that bit of information would help her regain trust in him, but he didn’t want to push it. He wanted that trust to return organically.
Surprised and secretly pleased, though she didn’t know why, she wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Oh,” was all she could muster.
“Look, there were a lot of players that night – the night we took out Esteban. It isn’t just you and Jax he wants. He is seeking revenge for himself, not Esteban. In fact, his only desire in hurting you would be to hurt me. He knew about us, and I put him away. Meg, Cotlon, Blake, Jessie…they were all there that night and helped take out Esteban and seal Tom’s fate to prison. They’re all potential targets – or at least he wants me to think so as a distraction.”
“Oh, my God…not again. Dec, not again.” Panic won, and she was a mess. It all came rushing back. The fear she had suppressed, by convincing herself the danger died with Esteban, was flooding back. There was so much on the line, so much more to lose now.
He stroked the backs of her hands with his thumbs, never letting go. “Hey, it’s okay. Blake knows. We’ll get everyone in the loop; everyone will be safe. I promise you that. I’m his primary, and only confirmed, target. I know him like a brother. I know how he plays. I’m not going to let you get hurt – he’s my last loose end, Lyd.”
Loose end. She knew what he meant by that. He was retired, had left before to tie up loose ends. Was this his way of saying he was back – for good? She left that question for another day and let him think his subliminal message went right over her head. After hearing about Tom, she didn’t have it in her to dissect the meaning of Declan.
“Okay,” she said, straightening while she found her confidence, “but promise you won’t leave this time. Not until its really over.”
She was sending her own subliminal messages, and he picked right up on those but let them slide. They could revisit what happens next when this was over.
Pulling her hands away, she used a napkin to wipe her tears and get herself together. “I’ll call Meg. Sounds like we need everyone together for this.”
Declan nodded, proud to see a glimpse of the Lydia he left behind. Tough, brave, and ready to fight.