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He shakes his head, looking around as if he’s calculating what the place is worth. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ll take care of it? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
I can already imagine having a bunch of tatted-up bikers guarding the place and my business tanking because of it.
“No offense, but I don’t need armed thugs protecting my business.”
Those blue eyes settle on me for so long I start to squirm. Then Wilder laughs as if this is all some big joke.
“It’s not the nineties, Maven, and this isn’t a gangster movie.”
“What do you know about the nineties?”
He gives me a look. “I was alive for a few of those years,” he shoots back with a knowing grin.
That grin sends another spear of warmth through me, and I refuse to pay it any attention.
“Look, Wilder, I really appreciate you coming in here to check on me, for even giving a damn even if you do have ulterior motives, but I don’t need the kind of help you’re offering.”
His brows shoot upward. “And what kind of help is that?”
“The kind that comes with strings and paints a target on my back. I worked too hard to win the money that allowed me to open up this place in a nice town like Angel Harbor. If war is coming, I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.” I can’t afford to be a pawn in someone else’s fight.
His tongue slips out and slicks against full pink lips. “You a gambler, Maven?”
“Hardly. I won the Amateur Baker’s Championship competition, and it came with a hefty cash prize. That’s how I was able to open this place, and I’m not losing it for anyone. Or anything.”
His gaze is gravely serious as he takes me in from head to toe. “That’s damned impressive, Maven. I can see why you won. Your food is addictive.”
“Thank you,” I answer uncomfortably. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
“I understand you,” he clarifies. “But what you don’t understand is that the protection I’m offering will help you in the long run.”
“Doubtful,” I snort.
“Really? Surveillance equipment will deter crimes like break-ins and robberies. You can watch if anyone is harassing your employees or make sure future employees don’t steal from you.” He folds his arms, and I can tell he’s feeling smug in the—completely logical—arguments he’s laying out for me. “And there’s the small fact that your insurance premiums will go down if you have crime prevention methods installed.”
All of his arguments are things I’ve thought of, but the fact remains that I can’t afford it right now. “In time.”
“Maven,” he says impatiently. “You don’t have time. If Nogales says war, then it’s inevitable, and you’ve worked too damn hard to make this place the success that it is. Protect it, no matter who’s offering the protection.”
“Yes,” Willow says from the doorway.
“No,” I answer at the same time. “And just what is this protection going to cost me?”
“Maven,” Willow calls out to me. “I love you, and I love working here, but the Iron Kings are some seriously bad guys, and I don’t want to be here without protection the next time they show up.”
“They won’t,” I insist.
Willow lets out a bark of bitter laughter. “Cyrus will, and I doubt he’ll be alone now that he has backup. You saw how angry he was earlier. I mean, Jesus Christ, he choked you!”
Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. “Still, I don’t want to owe anyone just to keep running my shop.”
Wilder steps forward and drops both hands on my shoulders. Instantly, he pulls back, and I know he feels that electricity humming between us, the spark that I am desperate to ignore.
“No strings,” he says and drops his hands to his sides. “I’ll keep an eye on the surveillance equipment to make sure there are no threats during or outside of business hours, but you’ll also have access to it.”
“And that’s it? Sounds too good to be true.” And in my experience, things that sound that way usually are that way.
