Rachel Brimble - What Belongs to Her

“What about his business associates?”

Sasha felt a sudden disquiet and glanced toward the inspector, who stood at the counter waiting for her coffee. Marian shot Sasha another glare and she snapped her gaze to John’s. “I don’t know.”

“You must know something.”

“I don’t.”

Silence descended and the tension escalated. After a long moment and no sign of their coffees, Sasha pushed to her feet. “Let’s go. I don’t feel comfortable talking about Kyle here.”

She made for the door, heedless of the stares of Inspector Garrett, Marian and the other pairs of eyes burning holes in her back. She shouldered past the queue of people filing into the bakery, her emotions torn. Why did she have to care about people so damn much? Why did everything come down to wanting people to be happy and enjoying themselves? When would she reach the jaded age of adulthood when she wouldn’t give a crap about anyone but herself?

She shouldn’t have backed up John—he was big enough to handle himself and from what she’d witnessed so far, nothing shook his cool exterior. She’d never know if he fought daily demons as she did, and for that she was grateful. She liked him, and because of that she prayed that once she had gotten the fair from him, he’d disappear as quickly as he had come. He tugged on something she’d thought stolen from her years ago. He tugged on her need for a man to care about her.

Swallowing hard, Sasha drew in a strengthening breath, drawing her protective cloak around her. The warm July sunshine hit her face as she stepped from beneath the shade of the bakery awning and leaned on the hood of John’s Mercedes. Maybe the sight of her butt on his fancy, expensive car might break his cool. He emerged from the bakery and approached her. He didn’t so much as blink to see her leaning on the hood of his car and instead stepped off the curb. He stood directly in front of her and the parked car behind him.

“Why did you leave like that? It would’ve been beneficial for us to face them out in there. Show it’s us running the fair now, not Kyle.”

She stiffened. “Us, John? Is that what you really think?”

“Don’t you?”

His gaze bored into hers. Sasha’s heart beat wildly, and her hands turned clammy. In all the time Kyle had run her and her granddad’s lives, not once had he indicated they were on the same team, in even the smallest of ways. Funland was Kyle’s, from the dirt on the ground to every lightbulb on every ride. Her heart twisted and she looked away. “Don’t say things like that. You and I both know you couldn’t possibly believe it.”

“Why not? Hey...” He touched his finger to her chin, gently turning her face. “Why not?”

Heat assaulted her cheeks as a bolt of God knew what shot through her body on such intimate and gentle contact. What the hell was he doing? Why was he playing her like this? She pushed away from the hood and marched to the passenger side. More important, why the hell was she letting him? She fisted her hands on her hips. “Open the car. I want to get out of here.”

She glanced past him toward the bakery window. She could practically feel the heat coming through the glass as Marian self-combusted inside.

He stared at her for a moment longer before pulling his keys from his pocket. The locks shunted open, and Sasha yanked the door and got inside. She pulled on her seat belt, her hands shaking. He slid in beside her, and the scent of musk and man rose between them, only to be torn away by the gathering breeze.

He turned the ignition. “We need to talk. Properly.”

“We will.” She stared ahead. “Right now I want to work. Funland needs me, John. The sooner you get that, the better.”

* * *

THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, Sasha entered the Coast Inn and approached the bar. It was Saturday night and the place was busy with patrons, but not so busy that she felt the need to turn around and leave. As desperate as she was to talk with her best friend alone, Sasha also wanted the cover of human bodies should John or Freddy decide they needed a drink as much as she did. This way she and Leah could make a dive for the back door with a better chance of escaping unnoticed.

“What can I get you?”

She plastered on a smile as the bar’s owner came to stand in front of her. “Hi, Dave. Can I get a glass of pinot gris for me and a merlot for Leah?”

“Sure.” He turned to get the bottle of white out of the fridge. “Haven’t seen you here in a while. You okay?” He filled her glass and placed it on a coaster.

Am I okay? Now, there’s a question. She took a sip of her drink. “I’m great. Busy as always.”

He eyed her carefully as he unscrewed the cap of the merlot. “Are you sure about that? I heard Kyle Jordon’s son turned up.”

She met his eyes for a moment before feigning interest in the black-and-white prints of Templeton Cove adorning the wall to the side of her. “Yep.”

“And?”

She faced him. “We’re working it out. I’m getting to know him and he’s getting to know me.”

He placed Leah’s drink on a second coaster and lifted an eyebrow. “Marian said he’s a good-looking chap and she’s watching him. Do I need to watch him, too?”

Sasha smiled and slumped her shoulders. “No. I’ve got it under control. You can simmer down and tell Marian to do the same the next time you see her, okay?”

Dave winked. “You know we’re only looking out for you.”

“I know.” She lifted the drinks from the bar. “It’s appreciated, but John’s all right...considering.”

“Considering what?”

“Considering I’m still giving him the benefit of the doubt.” She smiled. “If at any point I think the guy needs reminding I’ve got the whole of Templeton looking out for me, I’ll let you know.”

He laughed. “I’m always here. You know that.”

She lifted her glass in a salute before turning and heading purposefully to a table as far away as possible from the small dance floor in one corner and the pool table and dart nook in the other. Despite her bravado with Dave, Sasha’s heart hammered with nerves. John Jordon was far from “all right” as far as her body was concerned.

The man was a walking, talking magnet to her libido and that meant trouble whichever way she looked at it.

She was used to mental and emotional knock backs, used to people pulling her from her intended path, but John Jordon was a different challenge than any she’d faced before. His cool blue stare and bright, sudden smile jolted her. Made her waver, doubt and feel. She cursed. Even now, she wanted to smile because she thought of him.

He was...interesting. That was it. Interesting...and phenomenal to look at.

She sat down and stared into the golden depths of her glass, twirling the stem back and forth with her fingers as the past twenty-four hours played through her mind. Once they’d return to work after leaving Marian’s, it became very clear, very quickly, both she and John had individually made the decision to keep their distance. It had been almost comical how they avoided each other, barely sharing more than a sentence or two for the rest of yesterday and all of today.

Freddy brooded and snorted his way around the fair, casting glares at her, John or anyone else in his line of sight. The atmosphere was stretched to breaking with the three of them biding their time to see who would cut the first inch and let some of the pressure escape.

Well, it won’t be me. Not yet. I want to know what both of my opponents have in mind before I decide what to do next. One wrong move and everything I have planned will crash and burn.

The bar door swung open and Sasha lifted her gaze. Leah, her best friend of the past ten years, came striding toward her, seemingly in time with the drumbeat of the soft rock ballad blasting from the speakers. Her blond, short-cropped hair and dark-rimmed glasses belied her friend’s soft nature. At five-three, new patients could’ve made the mistake of thinking Nurse Dixon a pushover...until she showed them who was boss with a syringe inserted into their bare ass cheek.