The key to the front door stuck as Liam twisted it back and forth for his first official day as co-owner of The Bramble. He wrestled with it, tried pushing the door, pulling the door, and nothing worked. He tried to turn the key one more time and it snapped off right in the lock. He rested his head against the cold glass of the front door, banging his head against it a few times for good measure. That should have been the first sign things were not going to be smooth sailing. What had he gotten himself into?

Mark had left a detailed schedule with all the things that needed to be done. There was maintenance, payroll, inventory, and the folders and papers seemed to grow by the minute. He’d thought that running this place would be more chill than Doppel. Wasn’t this supposed to be a break from his everyday stress? Wrong didn’t even begin to describe how wrong he was.

A 7 am beer delivery was not his idea of fun. He’d gotten a call from the driver that they were there and needed him to unlock the keg room. Maybe he should have paid a bit more attention when Mark walked him through this place and pointed everything out. For some reason, he thought it would all come naturally to him. Like a moron. Unlocking the back door after calling a locksmith, he strode through the darkened kitchen to the basement. Liam clomped down the stairs and whacked his head on a low, brightly colored and dented beam with the words ‘Watch Your Head’ stenciled on it. His head throbbed as he unlocked the cellar doors from the inside and the driver started loading in the kegs.

He rubbed his head and checked for blood. Leaving them to the unloading, he wandered back upstairs to grab a cup of coffee. He hadn’t even had time this morning to get one at home or on the way. Thankfully, there wasn’t any blood when he checked his hands, but man had he rung his bell hard. The smell of coffee perked him up and his nose led him into the kitchen. The lights were on and low music played from a speaker set up on one of the stainless-steel shelves near the back, but he couldn’t see anyone. Just when he was about to call out, Rox came striding in from the walk-in fridge carrying a huge silver tray and dancing to the music. She shook her hips in time with the music and her melodic voice filtered through the air. He smiled at her uninhibited display. Rox didn’t let her guard down very often, at least not around him.

“Morning Rox,” he called out, waving at her.

“Holy shit!” She jumped so high, one of the pieces of meat flopped out of the tray, the bone skidded across the floor, and she sloshed blood onto her pristine white apron.

“Sorry,” he said, cringing. Definitely not getting off to the best start this morning.

“I’m going to have to get you a bell,” she said, slamming the tray down on the counter and grabbing a towel off one of the shelves to wipe the blood off her arms. “What the hell are you doing here so early?”

“Keg delivery. Apparently, I forgot they were delivering today. I need to import Mark’s schedule into my phone, so I don’t forget again.”

“Or you could have just called me and I could have unlocked it. I saw the guys hanging out in the alley and I didn’t realize they hadn’t unloaded everything yet. I thought they were being their normal lazy selves.”

“I didn’t even think about it. Plus, I don’t have your number.” He grinned at her and she furrowed her eyebrows at him, forcing him to swallow that grin. She walked over to the sink and washed her hands. Striding over to him, she held out her hand expectantly. He gave her a quizzical look.

“Your phone,” she said.

“My phone?”

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and then you can call me if there are any other early morning deliveries you need taken care of. Or anything else like that. I’m usually here early and then late for clean up.”

“Right. Of course,” he said, reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to her. She took it from him and he watched her as her fingers flew across the screen. Her hair jet black was a combination of bedhead and someone too cool for their own good. Her unorthodox hairstyle only enhanced the beauty she often tried to hide with her scowls and barking orders. Her deep chocolate eyes peered up at him and he cleared his throat and looked away.

“There you go,” she said, holding it back out for him.

“Thanks, Rox.”

She gave him a grumbling noise before turning back to the meat.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

“Yeah, I put a pot on the burners over there. There are mugs up there,” she said, pointing her tongs to the shelves behind her. “Sugar’s there as well. The milk is in the walk-in fridge. And you’ll need to call in maintenance for the freezer, it’s been acting up again. The temp is all over the place, still within the safe range, but I don’t want anything to get freezer burned in there and the lights keep flickering on and off.”

“Right. Mugs, sugar, milk, fix walk-in freezer.”

“The numbers and maintenance agreement should be up in the office in the filing cabinet. Let me know if you need any help finding it and I can get it for you.”

“Nope, I’ve got it. I can handle it,” he said, grabbing one of the mugs and making himself a cup of coffee.

“Good.” He stood there awkwardly as she moved around the kitchen like she could do it blindfolded, prepping whatever was on the menu for today. He could watch her all day. Her movements were like those of a seasoned dancer. Every pivot, overhead reach and stretch seemed to be done without even looking. She was in her element and more at ease than he’d ever seen her.

“So, what are you making?” he said, not feeling like starting his day just yet. He needed the coffee to kick in and getting to spend more time with Rox would win out over maintenance agreements any day.

“Braised short ribs. Pretzel dough is proofing over there and the candied bacon is ready to go.” She pointed to a tray filled with a dangerously delicious mix of sweet and salty bacon. Liam’s mouth watered just looking at the tray. Not wanting to turn into some kind of candied bacon devouring monster in front of Rox, he did what he did whenever confronted with the tempting deliciousness of food that he knew he would have to burn off during work outs later. He made it seem as unappetizing as possible. Envisioning liverwurst and boiled beets, his stomach flopped.

Rox crossed in front of him and under the collar of her chef’s coat, he glimpsed the dark bruises from that guy’s chokehold on her from the night of the party. The bruises were still there after nearly two weeks. He fisted his hands as visions from that night raced through his mind. Disgusted, he mentally kicked himself for letting that guy get away. He’d been too damn slow. Some asshole had gotten his hands on her beautiful, delicate skin. Rox always acted so tough, but he’d seen so many different sides of her since they started working together. She took her time with the less experienced people on her team and showed them the ropes. Her smile and laugh drew his attention no matter where he was. The second she saw him, of course they stopped immediately, but she couldn’t keep it under wraps all the time.

“The short ribs need to cook for about three hours…” Rox said, spinning to face him. He quickly righted his face and met her eyes. She rolled her eyes and shook her head before continuing. “Before tonight’s service, so I need to get it all ready now before the crew comes in at eleven.”

“Why are you here so early? You’re the chef, doesn’t that mean everyone else should be prepping this stuff and you oversee the whole thing?”

“Just because I’m the boss in here doesn’t mean I still don’t like to get my hands dirty. It’s one of my favorite things to do. If I gave this up, being in the kitchen would be a lot less fun. Plus, I have some trust issues when it comes to my food.” She gave him a pointed look before going back to her trays.

“Ah,” he said, draining the last of the coffee out of his mug. “I guess I should get up to the office and see what else I need to take care of today.” He smiled at her brightly and she nodded at him.

“I guess you should,” she mumbled and he left the kitchen. This was going to be harder than he thought. What did he need to do to win her over?

* * *

Rox wanted to stab him! What an insufferable ass, she raged, slamming trays and utensils as she finished her prep. Just when she thought maybe he wasn’t an ass, maybe she’d been wrong about him and that little light in her chest that lit up a little brighter when he walked into a room tried to break through, he did something completely asinine. And made her feel like a complete idiot. Who turned their nose up at candied bacon? Seriously?! She didn’t know how she was going to make it through this, especially with him treating her food like he did. She knew for a fact that everything she made was delicious. So, screw him for having terrible taste in food.

Why had he been in there talking to her? She hated how he got under her skin, more so when she had to see him every day. Everyone loved him already. He was always helping Charlie out behind the bar, even when there were other things he should be doing. The customers loved him and his smile shined from across the bar, not to mention his muscles under those tight t-shirts. Why the hell was a tech guy so ripped?

He checked in on tables constantly and would grab food off the pass to help the servers when they had a large party. His hands-on approach surprised her. He definitely seemed like the kind of guy who would turn his nose up at something like that.

She’d prep the rest of the food and then grab a chair to get some shut eye. First things first, she needed to put all this meat away. Despite telling everyone she was fine the night of the party, she hadn’t slept a wink at home since then. Not even her weekend trip to the farmer’s market to meet with local suppliers had settled her. And if fresh from the farm honey cake couldn’t settle you, then nothing could. Sitting up with her back against the bedroom door, holding a bat hadn’t exactly made for a restful and relaxing nights. The minute the sun peaked over the horizon, she’d dragged herself into the shower. Wiping the steam from the mirror, she had checked out the finger marks on her neck from Jon’s chokehold on her. She’d thought about using make up to cover the bruises like she used to, but figured her collar would hide most of them.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d been lucky Liam had been there. He’d saved her life. Getting dressed in a hurry, she took in her surroundings at the bottom of the steps to her apartment and sprinted to her bike, checking it over to make sure nothing had been tampered with, hopped on, and headed into work. Getting into the kitchen early in the morning was never something she looked forward to, but these days it was a godsend.

As she was sliding the meat into the walk-in fridge, her phone vibrated. It was a number she didn’t have saved. Hesitant to answer, she finally decided to go for it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Juliette Miles?” A shiver ran down her spine. There weren’t many people who knew her by that name.

“Who is this?”

“Hi, I’m one of the case workers here at the court house. I was calling regarding Jon Briar.” His name sent a wave of revulsion coursing through her system.

“Yes?” she squeaked, clearing her throat.

“I’m so sorry we weren’t able to get to you sooner. Our caseloads are all ridiculous and the file was buried. I was calling to tell you that his parole officer informed us that he was moving and that it turned out it was within a fifty-mile radius of your last known location.”

“How does that even happen?” Rox seethed, clutching the phone so hard, she was afraid she might break it.

“There was a mix-up with the paperwork and no one reconfirmed your location or they wouldn’t have approved his move, an oversight.”

“No shit!” Her hands shook and she wanted to throw something—hard. How do they just let something like this happen? It wasn’t like anyone had been able to protect her before, why had she thought they would start now?

“We wanted to let you know and inform you, so you could prepare yourself in case he made contact. The police have been searching for him because he missed his last two parole officer meetings.”

“He made contact all right. He trashed my boss’s car, called in a gas leak, started a real gas leak, and then attacked me last night!” Her voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“He did? I’m so sorry. I didn’t have anything in my file to say anything about that.”

“How long ago did he move?” How long had he been watching her? Following her? Did he know where she lived? He hadn’t approached her at the apartment so far, just at the bar. She thought back to all the coverage the bar had gotten because of the relaunch. Spotlights with Mark featured and a few she’d reluctantly been included in. Mistake, such a mistake.

“About three weeks.”

“Three weeks? Three weeks? And you’re just calling me now!” What the hell?!

“I told you before Ms. Miles. Our caseloads are heavy and your file was shuffled in with others. I’m sorry we didn’t get to inform you earlier. Are you okay?”

“Sure, if the gash on my forehead and finger marks around my neck are okay, then yes I’m okay.”

“Did you report it to the police?”

“Yes, of course I did!” She paced in the kitchen, her pulse pounding. A lot of good it had done her reporting it. They hadn’t’ found him yet. Hadn’t stopped him.

“I was only asking because in the previous case you refused to testify. I wanted to make sure there was a record of this for when he was arrested.”

“I spoke with the police, they got the full run down and said they would contact me if there were any other developments.” Testifying last time wouldn’t have done anything more than subject her to more time in his presence. They hadn’t needed her testimony anyway. Things are a lot more cut and dry when there’s a body on the scene, not a tearful girlfriend.

“Wonderful. If there are no other issues, I’ll let you go.”

“Nope, no issues other than my murderer of an ex-psycho trying to kill me,” she said, hanging up the phone in disgust. She wished it was an old-fashioned phone, so she could slam down the receiver a few times. He’d been out for weeks. Who knows what he had been up to? Still, for some reason, she felt a hell of a lot safer here in the bar than she’d felt at home, especially with the security measures Mark had put in place. If she was inside she was safe, at least she felt safe.