Sophie

After a night of tossing and turning, I pull myself out of bed and try to push away the anxiety I’ve been fighting all night. But it claws at my throat, making me question my sanity for staying here.

I’ve slept with three men my entire life. The first was a dark stain on my past, the second was, well, unmemorable, and third, is now...my boss.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Infuriating, yes, but, when he touched me, even briefly, I’d felt all those wonderfully insane sensations again, straight in my core.

But he’d made it clear that nothing would happen between us, at least not if I wanted to stay here. And it’s not like I have many options right now.

I need this job.

After I dress and tie my hair up in a ponytail, I lock the apartment with the keys Quinn gave me and go down to the bar.

The redhead from yesterday is sitting at one of the booths, tapping a pen on a notepad while reading through a large binder. She looks up when I approach, and a broad smile pulls at her lips.

“Hi, I’m...uh, starting here today.”

“Sophie, right? I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday, I’m Jenny.” She scoots out of the booth, motioning me to follow her. “You have no idea how happy I am that Quinn found you.” Her face turns almost as red as her hair, and she quickly adds, “Not that I’m happy your car broke down, but we really need another set of hands, badly. Especially on the weekends.”

It doesn’t take long before I know the ins and outs of Savages and Saints. How to use their elaborate new computer system to punch in orders, how to work the karaoke machine, how to open and close. I even learn how to toss a quick order of fries into the deep fryer if the cook isn’t around. But, as noon rolls around and there still isn’t a single customer, I start to wonder how the place stays in business.  

“Is it always this quiet?”

Jenny laughs. “It is when we’re closed. We don’t open Sundays or Mondays this time of year. The winter months are pretty slow, but once the marina opens, this is the place to be.”  

“Oh.” That’s great and all, except I need the tip money now.

I wander to the stage. It’s currently set up for karaoke, but there’s a drum set and guitars stacked in the corner, and my stomach does a little flip at the thought of performing here.

Sure, I sang regularly at the Cat & Fiddle, but this feels different, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s knowing that Kade will be here, watching, listening.

A collage of photographs is pinned on the wall surrounding the stage. Most are Polaroids, older and faded. I recognize Quinn in a few of them, and Kade, one of which he’s playing the electric guitar on this very stage. Interesting. He doesn’t seem like the rock star type.

There’s another with him and another woman, his arms wrapped over the shoulder of a beautiful blonde who shares an uncanny resemblance to Lola, and I wonder if she was his wife.

I allow myself to wonder way too many things. How long they were married. How she died. How long he and Lola have been on their own.

My chest squeezes at their loss.

Noah, Noah, Noah, my heart hammers, memories floating too close to the surface, threatening to drag me under into an abyss of pain.

“I have to pick up my daughter in a few minutes from the babysitter.” Jenny’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Would you mind locking up for me when you’re done here?”

“Yeah, of course.” She’d already given me a set of keys, as well as the security code.

“I’ll see you Tuesday.” She grabs her purse and jacket from behind the bar. “Oh, and help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.” She winks. “One of the perks of working here is free food.”

My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten today.

When she’s gone, I go into the large, newly renovated kitchen and pull out a bag of French fries, since it’s the only thing on the menu that I know how to make.

I didn’t survive the past twenty-three years because of my culinary skills, but rather my ability to scavenge.

I’m pretty proud of myself when I toss the fries in a basket and shake the seasoning salt on top, then make sure to close up the fryer like Jenny taught me. I pop one into my mouth, giving a satisfied little hum as I walk out of the kitchen and straight into a solid wall of muscle, causing half of my coveted fries to scatter to the ground.

“Shit,” a deep voice rumbles, grabbing my arms to steady me.

I wish I could say that fear is the first emotion I feel after shock, but I don’t even need to look up to know whose hands hold me. Maybe it’s his scent, or his voice, or the way my body responds to his touch, but I’m instantly a puddle of lust.

“S-sorry,” I mutter, taking a step back and holding the fries between us. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Kade doesn’t say anything, and when I blink up at him, those dark eyes are hard, piercing, and I have no clue what’s going on behind them.

“I...uh...” Why does this man leave me so tongue-tied? My brain does a proverbial eye roll at my reaction.  I swallow. “Jenny was training me, and she said I could grab something to eat, and since I don’t have groceries yet—”

“That’s your lunch?” His lips twist in disapproval. He sighs, taking the half empty basket from my hand, despite my protests. “Come on. I’ll make you something healthier.”

“It’s fine. Really.” I try to grab the basket back, but he holds it higher, moving past me into the kitchen, depositing the basket on the counter before turning towards the large steel, double-doored fridge.

“Honestly,” I say, eyeing the fries, my mouth watering for another bite. “I don’t need anything else.”

“I haven’t had lunch either. I’ll put something together quickly and we can talk about your salary and hours.”

As he shuffles around the kitchen, I can’t help but let my gaze drift across the broad shoulders and back that were hidden last night by his heavy coat.

He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt that’s untucked and tapered at the waist, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. Even with clothes on, it’s obvious the man is ripped, and I wonder what he does to stay in shape, because running a bar isn’t exactly strenuous work.

When I glance back up, one brow is raised at me, and he looks like he’s expecting an answer.

Shit. I totally just got caught ogling him. Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you like salmon.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I don’t admit that I’ve never tried it before. The only fish I’ve had—if you can call it that—came in a blue microwavable box.

He nods and turns his back to me again as he starts preparing the meal.

I find a broom and dust pan and sweep up the spilled fries, trying to slow my rapidly beating heart. How am I going to work with him when I can’t seem to be in the same room without turning into a giant ball of goo?

Maybe it’s because he’s still my mystery man, the beautiful stranger I’ve practically deified in my head. Maybe I just have to get to know him better, make him more...real, rather than the sex god my memories remember him as.

When I come back in the kitchen, I bump into him. The touch is soft, barely a brush of arms against arms. But it stops me in my tracks. His nostrils flare when he looks down at me, and I know his look of warning.

Maybe I’m imagining the insane physical reaction that courses like some invisible force between us, tugging and pulling, like gravity, but it doesn’t make being in the same room with him any easier.

Averting my gaze, I dump the fries in the garbage, and he walks back to the stove.

“Have you always lived in Port Clover?” I ask, needing to make him real. Not just some fantasy man I can’t stop thinking about.

“Yes.” He places two salmon fillets in a frying pan.

Silence.

God, I suck at small talk.

“I met Abbott yesterday,” I say, which I see in his profile causes his jaw to clench slightly. Interesting. “And obviously I met Quinn. Do you have any other siblings?”

“Two other brothers.” He turns to the metal counter and begins chopping a green vegetable that I think is zucchini.

The leftover French fries are becoming more appetizing by the second.

“Do they live here, too?”

“You’ll meet Damon. He comes by a lot when he’s working. He was just promoted to sheriff, which he likes to brag about, but there isn’t a lot of policing that needs to be done.” His gaze holds mine, and he stops chopping. “Port Clover is a safe place. There’s not a lot of trouble.”

His meaning is clear, and so is his warning from last night. I know that I’ll be out on my ass in a heartbeat if Charlie ever found me and showed up here, causing the kind of trouble Kade is talking about.

“Jasper is the oldest,” Kade says, resuming his chopping, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking about another brother. “You won’t see him much, he’s gone ten months of the year, flying around the world on his jet.”

“Jet?”

“He’s a pilot.”

“Oh. Wow. I’ve never met a pilot before.”

He tilts his head and holds my gaze. “Never flown anywhere?”

“No. But I’ve always wanted to.” I doubt I’ll ever be able to afford it, but it’s on my bucket list.

He tosses the vegetables in another skillet. “Where would you go, if you could?”

“Disney World.” I don’t even need to think about it. There’s still a little girl inside of me who dreams about magic and fairy tales.

He chuckles. “Seriously?”

“Big Mickey Mouse fan,” I say, leaning with my elbows on the steel island.

“Mickey Mouse, huh?”

I shrug. “Have you ever been there?”

“We went a few times when we were kids. But I haven’t taken Lola yet.”

It’s the first time he’s mentioned his daughter, and the way he says her name, it’s like she’s a piece of him. My heart clenches.

“She’s a cute kid. Lots of personality.”

He grunts, but there’s undeniable pride in his eyes. “She’s been around Quinn a little too much. I’m starting to worry she’s becoming her clone.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Only when I have to tell her no. It’s not exactly her favorite word.”

“Is it anyone’s?”

“I guess not. Just some people are better at accepting it than others.”

“Yeah.” My thoughts turn dark for a moment, thinking of Charlie and his inability to let me go.

I do that damn thing I always get in trouble for; I get lost in my head. And when I finally come back to the present, Kade is standing in front of me with two plates of food that look like they belong in a fancy French restaurant, and not a marina pub.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning down at me.  

“Yeah.” I take one of the plates, forcing a smile. “This looks...” I glance down at the pink fish, vegetables, and rice pilaf, and I tell a small white lie. “Good.”

He chuckles. “Just try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw a burger on the grill for you.”

We sit down at one of the booths in the restaurant.

“So, you’re a chef?”

He gives a crooked smile, one that makes my heart beat faster. “I’ve had to pick up a few cooking skills over the years while running this place. Even more so now that I have Lola. She’s a bit of a picky eater.”

“Yeah, she told me about her celery and carrot aversion.”

“And pretty much every other vegetable.” He eyes me when I push the vegetables to the side of my plate, giving me a full on dad look. “Seems like she’s met her match.”

“I’m not picky, I just...” I sigh and take a bite of one wedge, surprised that it doesn’t taste totally awful. “Actually, this is pretty good.”

That wins me a smile. “Never had zucchini before?”

“Growing up, there were very few home-cooked meals in our house. Not unless macaroni and cheese topped with microwaved hot dog pieces counts.” My cheeks burn at the confession.

I’ve tried to learn a few cooking skills as an adult, but after I left Charlie, constantly scrounging for money, I’ve either lived in a motel or a car, neither of which are ideal for preparing home-cooked meals.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Kade asks.

“No.”

“And your parents?”

“Both gone now,” I say simply. Explaining my family drama would take longer than one lunch date.

Not a date, Sophie, my brain warns.

Kade gives a hard nod like it somehow explains things.

Dead parents, impoverished upbringing...If only my story were that simple.

“You don’t like it?” Kade asks, frowning, and I realize I’ve been pushing the food around on my plate.

“No, I...I’m just not used to eating this much. Can I package it up? That way, I’ll have dinner later.”

That makes him frown even harder. “I have an hour before I have to pick Lola up from school. If you want, I can drive you to the grocery store.”

“You’ve already done enough.” I stand and take both the plates.

He stands at the same time, and we lock gazes. “You don’t like asking for help, do you?”

I give him a forced smile. “In my world, help usually comes at a cost.”

“You’re in Port Clover now.” He takes the plates from me. “Everyone helps everyone. No cost. No expectations.”

“Sounds a little too perfect.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t say perfect. You haven't met the town gossips, or the Tuesday night bingo crowd. Sometimes, I think people have dubbed Savages and Saints their official town hall. But despite some of our quirks, it’s a good place to live.” He starts to turn, then grins. “But you might just regret your decision to stay once you put in a full night of karaoke.”

As he walks back towards the kitchen, I don’t doubt that I’ll regret staying here, but it has nothing to do with any of the things he mentioned, and everything to do with the insanely hot, single dad who has already proclaimed himself off limits.