Shamrock: A Linear Tactical Romantic Suspense Standalone Read online

  Whatever self-consciousness she might have felt slid away under his hungry gaze. The smile she gave him was all confidence. “Do you know that the light in a firefly is caused by a chemical reaction happening in its body?”

  Aiden smiled and grabbed her ankle, spreading her legs apart, kissing his way up her calf, reaching the place under her knee that made her breath come out in a hiss.

  “Is that so?” he said against her skin before switching over to the other knee. “Maybe we should see if we can get a chemical reaction happening in your body.”

  He held her legs open wider, making room for his shoulders as he kissed his way up her thighs straight to her core.

  Her hiss became a moan as he took his time licking, sucking, laving, discovering what made her squirm, gasp, beg.

  Slow and dirty was definitely what they both needed.

  He loved the way her back arched off the bed and she clutched his head closer as the first orgasm hit her. He didn’t give her much time to come down from it before his fingers joined his mouth to drive her back up for another.

  As he kept her pinned to the bed and feasted on her, his name left her lips in a hoarse cry that was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

  Her legs were limp and shaking as she pulled up on his hair. “I want you inside me,” she whispered. “Now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Pulling off his jeans, he grabbed a condom out of his nightstand and made quick work of it. He bent down to nibble on one erect nipple, then the other, before sucking them deep into his mouth.

  Then he leaned back and ran one hand from her ass up her inner thigh to the crease of her knee, opening her and positioning himself at her entrance.

  Sweat was gathering at his forehead, the need to drive into her wet heat robbing him of damn near all reasonable thought.

  But he had to make sure. His eyes met hers, trying to communicate the words he couldn’t articulate.

  “Yes,” she said, her hand reaching his waist and clasping him toward her. “I want you. Now.”

  He slid in slowly—forcing himself to go so goddamned slowly—hissing as the heat of her surrounded him, clutching him inch by inch until he was embedded deep within her.

  He stilled inside her, giving her time to adjust. Then he released her leg, wrapping it around the back of his thigh, and held his weight on both arms, propping his forehead against hers.

  He began to move. First short, shallow strokes, then longer, deeper ones.

  She let out a soft keen as he withdrew almost completely, lifting her hips against him, clutching at his back with her fingertips. He couldn’t hold back his groan as he thrust in to the hilt, withdrawing again before plunging back into her with a hard drive.

  But it was those green eyes looking at him with a mixture of trust and wonder, her voice calling his name over and over, that sent him spiraling over the precipice.

  It was her name he called as he fell.

  Chapter 16

  Aiden didn’t let her out of bed for the rest of the weekend. She texted Charlie and Anne to let them know she was fine—promising to never drink anything again, much less Electric Smurfs—and that she would talk to them soon. She conveniently left out that Aiden was currently lying on top of her, threatening to turn her facedown, tie her to the bedposts, and have his wicked way with her if she didn’t put away the phone.

  As if that was some kind of scary threat.

  When she explained that her friends might come looking for her if she didn’t check in, and then they’d have to explain why she’d been here the whole time, he’d reluctantly let her finish her texts with no more interference.

  Then he’d proceeded to flip her facedown on the bed and have his wicked way with her anyway. No tying necessary.

  But now she was back at work and needed to push all thoughts of Aiden out of her head. She had a bakery that was opening in one week. The crews may be done and all the painting and wiring and plumbing complete, but there was still so much to do.

  She needed a full-time employee. She wasn’t Wonder Woman.

  She’d been thinking a lot about the women who’d been in the human trafficking ring, prisoners of Randy, Dillon, and that Stellman guy she’d never met. She would talk with the people she’d met at Omega Sector. If any of the women were still in the country, maybe they needed a job. It might take a while to work out the details, but she’d keep trying.

  But still, Violet needed an employee now, not weeks from now.

  She’d had the help-wanted sign in the shop window since a day after she leased the place. So far she’d only had two teenagers and a mom with three young children who just wanted to get out of the house apply for the positions.

  Violet had no problem hiring any of the three of them, but none of them could work the shifts when she needed them the most, early and midmorning during the week.

  If the number of people who had come by just to check things out was anything to go by, Violet definitely wouldn’t be able to handle everything herself. She wouldn’t be able to handle it herself even if it was half the amount of business she was hoping for.

  Violet needed a right-hand man. Charlie had offered to help out since evidently the bar where she’d been working had burned to the ground about a month ago. But Hurricane Charlie still admitted she wasn’t back to one hundred percent after what she’d been through. And as much as Charlie didn’t like it, an hour or two was as much as she could work at one time.

  Violet looked up from where she was organizing coffee cups behind the service bar as a young woman walked by. Again. She’d already passed the shop window two other times that Violet had seen. Maybe she was lost, although in a town the size of Oak Creek that seemed near impossible.

  But when Violet looked up again five minutes later, the woman was outside once again. This time, after standing frozen in front of the door for nearly a full minute, she actually came inside.

  She was young, maybe just a year or two older than Violet, tall, with long straight brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.

  “Hi,” Violet said. “You’re welcome to come in and try one of the pastries I set out on the table, but we don’t actually open for another week.”

  The woman nodded curtly. “Actually, I’m here about the job.” She said it with a cringe, like she expected Violet to yell at her or something.

  “Oh, are you from out of town? I ask because I saw you walking up and down the sidewalk a few times and thought you might be lost.” She smiled to try to put the woman at ease.

  Her arms crossed low over her stomach. “No, I’ve lived in Oak Creek most of my life, um, except for a few years while I was . . . away. Charlie’s my roommate, or at least she is until she and Finn get married in a few months, and she suggested I stop by and talk to you about the job.”

  Realization dawned. “You’re Jordan?” Charlie talked about her roommate all the time, but Violet had never met her. She never went out with Charlie, and this was the first time Violet had seen her in town.

  And she was here for a job? This could be the answer to her biggest problem.

  The woman flinched once more. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

  She wasn’t exactly a fountain of information. Maybe she was uncomfortable around new people. Violet definitely understood that. “Charlie said she tried to get you to go out with us on Friday night, but you wouldn’t go.”

  Jordan walked farther into the shop, still looking like she might make a run for it at any moment. “No, I’m not big on . . . bars and crowds.”

  Violet rolled her eyes. “You’re speaking my language. And after what we were drinking, you should probably consider yourself fortunate that you made the more mature choice to stay home.”

  A look of longing passed through the woman’s big gray eyes before almost immediately disappearing. She looked away and began to study the shop. When she turned back to Violet, her wary expression was back in place.

  “Well,” Violet smiled, “I’m glad you came in, because I really
need to hire someone. Can you work mornings?”

  “Yep, I can pretty much work any time you need me.”

  Violet barely refrained from jumping for joy. Charlie always spoke so highly of Jordan. She would definitely recommend her. “I can’t believe Charlie didn’t tell me she was sending you here.”

  “Actually, I kind of insinuated to Charlie that I wasn’t interested in the job. Because I wanted to come here and talk to you myself, so that you wouldn’t feel pressured because Charlie is both your friend and mine.”

  “Pressure about what?”

  “You might not want to hire me, and I don’t want that to be awkward for you and Charlie if that ends up being the case. It’s better for her to think I didn’t even apply to begin with.”

  “Oh. Why would I not want to hire you?”

  “My last name is Reiss. I’m Jordan Reiss. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No.” Was she like a celebrity or something? “I just moved here, so I don’t know everyone. Should I know you?”

  Jordan let out a sigh and rubbed her eyes. “No, I guess not. Look, I’m a convicted felon. Let’s just get that out of the way. I’m not sure that you want to hire somebody with a record.”

  Violet was torn. Charlie hadn’t mentioned any of this. On the one hand, no, she really didn’t want to hire somebody who was a criminal. On the other hand, Charlie wouldn’t be suggesting Jordan apply for the job—wouldn’t be living in the same house as the other woman—if she was dangerous or untrustworthy, right?

  “What were you in jail for?” Violet finally asked. Was that rude? She wasn’t sure.

  “Vehicular manslaughter. I fell asleep behind the wheel six years ago when I was eighteen and ran into another car. The lady driving and her toddler son were killed.”

  “Oh my God.” She covered her mouth with her hand. How horrible for everyone, even Jordan.

  Jordan cleared her throat a little hoarsely. “And you should know it was Zac Mackay’s family that I killed. He seems to have forgiven me, but a lot of people in this town hate me. So I may not be a good prospective employee for you. If you don’t want to hire me, I understand. And I don’t want it to be awkward between you and Charlie.”

  Jordan looked like she was one point five seconds from turning and running out the door.

  “Have you ever done any baking?” Violet asked quickly.

  She shrugged. “I worked in the kitchen a lot in prison, so I know my way around. And I know how to clean. And I work hard.”

  “Can you give me just a second?” She held up a finger. Before this conversation went any further, she needed to text Anne. She couldn’t hire Jordan if Anne had a problem with it. Zac was her boyfriend.

  Jordan nodded stiffly. “But listen, if you’re going to call the sheriff, that’s not necessary. You can just tell me to leave, and I will.”

  “Why would I call the sheriff?”

  Jordan rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Let’s just say it’s happened before.”

  That seemed a bit extreme. Jordan certainly didn’t look dangerous. And while she was a convicted felon, it wasn’t like she’d gone to jail for some violent crime. “I’m not calling the sheriff. Please help yourself to a pastry. I’ll be right back.”

  Jordan was at least heading toward the table with the pastries rather than the door as Violet grabbed her phone out of her purse and stepped through the back door into the kitchen.

  She quickly texted Anne, hoping the doctor wasn’t too busy to respond right away.

  I have Jordan Rice here applying for a job. She told me what happen with Zac’s family, and I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I possibly hired her.

  Anne’s response came back almost immediately. Jordan Reiss. But yes, definitely hire. She’s honest and hardworking and sometimes the people in this town piss me off.

  Violet laughed. That was as feisty as she’d ever seen her quiet friend be. She typed a smiley emoji and put her phone away.

  Okay. It looked like she and Jordan might be able to help each other out.

  She walked back to the front to find Jordan chewing on a pastry. “These are really good.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Want to learn how to help me make them?” She grinned and wagged her eyebrows.

  Jordan took a step closer as if she couldn’t help herself. “Are you offering me a job?”

  “I had to check with Anne Griffin first. She’s my friend, and if she had a problem with you being here, that would’ve been a problem for me too. But she doesn’t. She gives you a glowing recommendation.”

  “The doc has always been nice to me. She’s just a good lady in general. Look, you seem nice too, and I just want to make sure you understand that some people in Oak Creek are not going to like the fact that you have me working here. So it would probably be best for both of us if I spent most of my time in the back kitchen, out of sight of the fine citizens of Oak Creek.”

  That was where she would be needed most anyway. “We’ll work something out. When can you start?”

  “How about right now?”

  Chapter 17

  Jordan was a godsend. The woman didn’t talk very much, came in and out the back door because she didn’t want anyone to see her, and tended to find something to do in the kitchen whenever anyone else happened into the shop. But she was still the best employee anyone could ask for. She worked hard—just as hard as Violet—and was always willing to stay just as many hours as Violet did. Since they were four days from opening, that was a lot.

  Jordan was smart too. She may not be college educated, but she was ruthlessly efficient and had quite the head for computers, which Violet found out she had taught herself. When the point-of-sale software Violet had purchased needed some tweaking, Violet had expected to have to spend an entire day learning the system so she could do it or call in a rep from the company. But Jordan had been able to figure it out in under an hour.

  So now the front register was linked to Fancy Pants’ inventory list as well as keeping track of profits and losses based on pastry types, flavors, and sizes. That would be useful info as they grew. Both Violet and Jordan loved useful info.

  They were in the middle of Jordan’s third full day, with Violet teaching her some of the basics of the pastry baking she would need to do, when the inevitable happened.

  Gabriel showed up.

  Violet’s relationship with her brother was complicated, especially now. He’d been the adult figure in her life for the past decade. He’d been her legal guardian until she had turned eighteen. He was an amazing, brilliant, and brutally strong individual, both physically and mentally. He’d always been a source of strength for her, a firm foundation.

  He’d make a formidable opponent—something she’d never had to worry about. Until now.

  Gabe strolled in with Edward Appleton, CT’s vice president of operations and one of her parents’ best friends before they had died.

  Violet rushed up to give the older, formal man a hug, which he returned stiffly. That was nothing new. He’d been returning hugs stiffly her whole life. But he always returned them.

  Violet turned and hugged Gabe too. She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two weeks—the longest she’d gone without seeing him since her parents had died. He hugged her back.

  “We thought we’d swing by here and see how everything was going,” Gabe said in a carefully neutral tone.

  “I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to show you the place.” She held out her arms and spun around. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

  Both Edward and Gabe walked around, taking in everything.

  “It’s definitely got a certain small-town appeal,” Gabe eventually said. “And it doesn’t look like there are any other shops of this type nearby, so that should work in your favor.”

  “I finally have it set up the way I want it. We’re going to sell almost all sweet foods and high-end coffees. I’m not trying to compete with The Frontier Diner. They have great pies there, so we defin
itely won’t venture in that direction. We’ll keep everything more individualized. A lot of petit fours. Do you want me to grab a few of our samples? I’m still trying to finalize what we’ll be selling on opening day. I wanted it to be the very best I have.”

  Violet knew she was rambling, but she didn’t want Gabe to start listing all the reasons why opening Fancy Pants was a bad idea.

  “Sure,” was all her brother said.

  She gestured for them to take a seat at one of the tables, then grabbed what pastries she had left over from yesterday from their plastic containers, arranging them artfully on a plate. These were fine, but she wished she had time to go into the back and make some fresh.

  “Would you guys like a coffee? I can make an espresso or a cappuccino?”

  Both men asked for an espresso, so she made them and brought it all over on a tray, then sat down with them.

  She had cooked for Gabe over the years, but not often because their housekeeper had also left meals for them four times a week. They’d both been busy with the company, and her with school, and Gabe was more than progressive enough not to expect her to cook just because she was a woman. Plus, cooking was so much different than baking. Violet didn’t mind cooking, but it wasn’t her passion.

  Surprise lit both their faces as they ate their treats, taking small bites of each.

  “You made this?” Edward asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. And these are my own recipes. You wouldn’t be able to buy them quite like this anywhere else in the world.”

  Edward took another small bite of the canelé. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

  “Eighteen months ago, when I went to that symposium in Paris. I did a food tour just for fun and liked it so much I took a baking class. That was it for me.” She shrugged. “I loved it. I’ve used every spare moment since then learning what I could.”

  “These are truly delicious,” Edward said, reaching out and patting her hand when it became obvious Gabe wasn’t going to say anything. “You very definitely have a talent. I should’ve expected it. You’ve always been able to do anything you set your mind to.”