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“Nah,” Chris replied dismissively. “His mother will be fine. The entire church is raising money to get her a new house. His stealing from us wasn’t really about her. He just needed an excuse.”
“Oh,” I muttered, averting my gaze and scanning the store's surroundings to avoid locking eyes with him or sensing how close he stood to me.
Unfortunately, there was no one else in the store to divert my attention. Even without looking at him, my heart started racing as it always did in Chris' presence.
“But on to the real problem. What have I told you about assaulting my customers, pumpkin?” He reached out and gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, intensifying the unsettling sensation.
“Don’t call me that,” I said.
It was completely inappropriate on multiple levels, considering the significant age gap between us and the fact that he was my father's best friend and my boss.
Plus, there was the unsettling possibility that he could be the kingpin of a not-so-underground criminal organization.
But none of that seemed to matter anymore when I saw the darkness in his eyes, igniting a fire within my body.
2
CHRIS
She was a true enigma, that Emily.
My new shopkeeper surprised me daily. At first glance, everything about her seemed simple. A petite and unassuming woman with traces of innocence in her eyes. Her brown hair was neatly tucked into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a fancy blouse and skirt combination that was a size too big, along with flat shoes that made minimal noise as she walked. Her movements were graceful, and her soft-spoken manner of speaking conveyed a sense of refinement or, at the very least, a certain gentility.
But anyone who saw how she handled the idiot from earlier would know her delicate dignity hid a core of steel.
She was not someone who could be easily intimidated, and she never seemed surprised at whatever the day threw at her. This wasn’t the first time a customer had gotten handsy with her. Given the nature of our business and the crime-ridden area of the shop, we tended to get people in very desperate states, and they could sometimes act out.
But she always handled it like someone who used to taking down men twice her size.
The first time I saw her judo flip a perp, I was both shocked and amazed. I stood there, dumbfounded, while she glanced at me afterward and casually asked, “Should I call security?”
I said yes, but truthfully, it was more for the perp’s benefit than hers. Besides, I didn’t want them accidentally breaking anything in my store.
Either way, Emily Jane was incredibly adept, and it was evident she was well-versed in defending herself. It led me to believe that there were some rather unsavory parts of her past that weren’t showing up in her appearance.
As I said, she was an enigma.
She blinked up at me as I gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, and she shifted slightly from my touch.
“Don’t call me that,” she said, referring to the nickname.
I raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Why not? It’s what I used to call you.”
“Yeah, back when I was a teenager.” She retorted, rolling her eyes. “And I hated it back then too.”
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious. So much about her intrigued me.
“No fourteen-year-old wants to be called pumpkin,” she replied. “Besides, Dad only gave me that name because he couldn’t be bothered to remember my real name most of the time.”
I cocked my head, studying her. “What gave you that impression?”
She sighed, her expression softening. "Well, he wasn't exactly the most involved father. He tried sometimes, but it was never enough."
She was likely right, of course. Dominic had never been much of a father, as much as he occasionally tried to be.
I knew that because he was one of my closest friends throughout the years. Or perhaps “friend” is the wrong word for it. It sounded too soft, too simple. Men like us never really had friends.
But he was someone I had come to trust enough to go into business with. That required something I thought was more than friendship.
