CHAPTER FOUR
TWO WEEKS LATER
DECLAN
Meridea flits around the restaurant dining room, checking on her tables with a natural ease that draws smiles from every customer she encounters.
She mentioned waiting tables at the Atlanta Country Club as a teenager, and it shows.
Her charm and efficiency have quickly made her a favorite among the regulars.
Of course, I looked her up. Meridea Spencer—born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia.
Her father was a wealthy man once until drugs dragged him down and took his fortune with him.
Looking at her now, you’d never guess she’s living in a constant state of fear.
But I’ve seen the signs. Yesterday, when I approached her in the back room, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
I hate the haunted, deer-in-the-headlights look she gets sometimes. It eats at me.
I ran an idea by Hassle about how we could catch the assholes. He said the plan could work.
Suddenly, my mom interrupts my thoughts by placing her hand on my arm. “Declan, what are you doing?”
My brows pull together. “I’m working, Mom.”
A smile brightens her porcelain face. “Oh really. I didn’t know standing outside the kitchen staring at Meridea was a job. Does she know how you feel about her?”
I push through the kitchen double doors and grab a rack of clean glasses for the bar.
“I’ve never seen you so focused on one woman.” Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail. She looks youthful. You’d never believe she was on her deathbed four years ago.
Balancing the rack against my torso, I rub my stubbled jaw with my free hand, pondering on her words. “Mom, I’m concerned about her wellbeing. That’s all.”
She chuckles softly, trailing after me. “Sure you are. Oh, by the way, you and Meridea are on the list for the masquerade ball next weekend. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, mom.” I plant a kiss on her cheek.
“You’re welcome.” She pauses, her sharp blue eyes studying me. “Will we be seeing her at dinner anytime soon?”
“No,” I grunt, as I step through the double doors leading to the bar area. Mom steps to the left, smirking as I hold the bar door open for her.
“Declan, you can only keep her all to yourself for so long.”
Want to bet.
“Right now, she needs to be in an environment where she feels safe.”
“And that’s under your watchful eye twenty-four seven?” She arches a brow.
“Yes,” I growl.
I won’t let any harm come to her ever again.
“Once her problem is resolved, will you be able to let her go?”
Hell no.
“Of course, Mom.” I change the subject. “Are you looking for Deanna?”
“No, I was waiting for your father. We’re having a lunch date. And we’re sitting in Meridea’s section.”
My eyes narrow. “Mom, don’t reference Meridea and I as a couple.”
She pulls at my arm until my six-six frame is leaning to the side. Her lips fall upon my cheek. “I love you, Declan. It’s ok if you find happiness too.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I murmur, watching her disappear into the kitchen with a knowing grin on her face.
She means well. Mom just doesn’t understand. Meridea and I are not looking for anything to happen between us.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I retrieve it and look at the screen.
Meridea: I ordered groceries with your credit card. They’ll be delivered to the bar at five. I’m cooking dinner for you. I’d like to show my gratitude.
I gave Meridea a burner phone and my credit card.
I felt better knowing she had a phone to use.
And my credit card so she could order personal items for herself.
Her deliveries are addressed to me. Care of M.
I like that. Not sure why. But I love seeing the M on packages.
She chose to use the credit card to purchase groceries so she can cook dinner for me. That’s not necessary.
Me: I’ll only drink water. That way I’m ready for the meal you’ll prepare for me.
She sends a laughing emoji.
Me: Should I dress up for this dinner?
Meridea: Yes.
Me: I look forward to dinner.
My heart races in my chest. Why? Because Meridea’s cooking dinner for me? Be on your best behavior, Declan.
I glance through the restaurant’s glass door and catch her eye. She’s laughing hysterically, clearly enjoying herself. My stomach twists. Great. What did my parents say to her? Hopefully, nothing too embarrassing.
My dad glances over his shoulder, meeting my gaze.
My younger brother Donovan looks more like dad than me.
I have the same color hair and eyes as Dad.
My brother’s facial features mirror Dad’s.
Even though his hair is blond and eyes are blue like mom’s.
I still resemble mom just in a more masculine sense.
One of the reasons I moved back four years ago was because my dad was struggling when mom was battling cancer. It seemed like he was giving up too.
I’m not sure my dad would last on this earth without her.
That’s what I didn’t want. That kind of love where you couldn’t go on without the other person. I squeeze my eyes shut at the pain my family felt during that time.
Meridea was starting life over. What better place to do that than with me. So what if I plan to keep her here and not let her go. I’m not going to develop those pesky things called feelings.
Meridea is wearing her signature black cap low over her face, trying not to be recognized in our small town where she is known as ‘the woman with the black cap.’
Sitting at the head of my opulent dining table, I tug at the green collared shirt under my black blazer. Meridea sets down a plate piled high with chicken breasts smothered in sauce, as well as mashed potatoes, asparagus, and buttered rolls.
“You didn’t have to do all this, Meridea.”
She smiles sweetly. “I wanted to. You’ve been kind to me, and this is the least I can do to show my appreciation.”
“Everything looks delicious,” I say.
Meridea pours red wine into both of our glasses before taking a seat caddy corner to my right. “My mother always said that knowing how to cook is essential; you never know when you’ll need it.”
Her smile falters for a moment. “And she was right. I had a personal chef for eight years of my life, but my mom loved cooking, and I always enjoyed watching or helping out in the kitchen. I enjoy baking over cooking,” she confesses.
“I make amazing chocolate chip cookies.” Meridea takes a bite of her mashed potatoes.
“You should consider baking some and giving them to customers as they leave. If they’re a hit, you could even sell them for extra profit.”
Her eyes light up with excitement. “Really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Little does she know, any money she makes will go straight into her pocket to use as she pleases in Blue Haven. She’s not going anywhere.
“I’ve been working on a plan to deal with Glenn and his buddies,” I say, cutting into the chicken. The first bite melts in my mouth, the flavors a perfect balance of herbs and sauce. Damn. She can cook.
I think I’m in love.
I chew slowly, pretending to consider the taste. In reality, I’m savoring every fucking bite.
I can tell Meridea wants to ask if I like her cooking, but she doesn’t.
“There’s a masquerade ball next Saturday,” I tell her between bites.
“The kind of event where men like Glenn go to network for their dark web activities. You’ll text him, say you’ll meet him there and give him the flash drive he’s after.
We’ll use it to draw him out—and hopefully take down a few others in the process.
A little cleanup operation.” I flash a devilish grin.
Her lips tip upward. “I love that plan. You’ll let me be there when you take care of them, right?” She asks.
“You sure you want to see what I’m capable of? I have no problem cracking someone’s skull open.”
Her tongue slicks across her lips. “I’ll manage.”
My little Meridea thinks she’ll like watching me torture. “You’ll be right there with me and my brothers when we make them all pay.”
She brings the glass of wine to her lips. “Good.”
I take the opportunity to study her. She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her in all the right places, her long curls tumbling over her shoulders and framing her perky breasts.
I thought she’d wear something casual, a sweater and jeans maybe, but instead, she looks like she’s dressed for a night on the town.
When this is all over, I’ll take her out.
Show everyone what’s mine. Daring them to touch so I can break their fucking hand.
“You’re killing me, Declan,” she says, breaking my thoughts. “Did you even like dinner?”
I shrug casually. “It’s good.”
Her brows knit together. “Don’t sugarcoat it. If it’s bad, just say so. I’ll eat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”
“There’s more, huh?” I ask, not really asking. I glance down at the last bite of chicken on my plate.
“Yeah.” She shoots daggers at me with those caramel eyes.
“I’ll get another bottle of wine,” I announce, picking up my plate and heading to the kitchen.
The sight and smell of the extra mashed potatoes and chicken breasts make my mouth water.
I quickly load up on seconds and start wolfing them down at the counter.
I can’t let her see how much I’m enjoying this meal. “Mmm,” I moan in spite of myself.
“Is it really that good?” Meridea teases.
“It’s just been a long day, and I’m starving,” I reply between bites.
She moves closer, inspecting me with a smirk. “Hm, looks like you’ve got something on your face.”
My brows shoot up as Meridea swipes her finger across my lips. She holds it up, a playful smirk tugging at her mouth. “Mashed potatoes,” she announces before slipping her finger into her mouth. “Mmm, tastes delicious.”
My cock throbs instantly. This woman is going to drive me insane.
“Meridea,” I growl around a mouthful of food.
“What?” she asks with a playful smile.
“The food’s fucking delicious. Are you happy?”
“Not sure why that was so hard to admit.” She flashes a wicked grin and turns, strutting out of the kitchen in her red stilettos, her hips swaying deliberately.
Meridea’s playing dirty.
I pop open another bottle of wine, pouring a glass and downing it in one gulp before stalking back to the dining room. I find Meridea standing at the patio door, watching snowflakes fall from the sky.
“You make me feel safe and comfortable, Declan,” she whispers.
I step behind her. “I love knowing you feel safe with me.” My nose nuzzles her hair.
She presses her ass against my hard cock.
“I want to make sure we’re on the same page.” My hand reaches up to sweep her hair aside, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. I press soft kisses along her ear and down her jaw.
“Yes,” she moans.
“I will torture and kill Glenn,” I growl.
“Declan, I shouldn’t want you to.” She grabs my hand and places it over her pussy.
“Meridea, he betrayed your trust. He’s evil and has to be put down.”
Her head tilts back against my chest, her voice barely audible. “You and I… we’re like two ships passing in the night. But is it wrong that I want you to make me feel good?”
“No,” I rasp, slipping my hand into her panties, caressing her wet folds with deliberate strokes.
“Declan, the first night you carried me to bed, I wanted you to stay with me,” she confesses.
“I would’ve stayed and held you,” I admitted.
“I’m leaving the country once I get my life back.” Her hand comes between us and she strokes my dick through my slacks.
“Is that so?” I chuckle darkly, hooking my fingers into the sides of her panties and tearing them away in one swift motion.
She gasps as I stuff the fabric into my pocket. Dropping to my knees behind her, I gently turn her and, press her back against the cool glass of the patio door. Our eyes lock as her fingers slide through my hair.
“Next week you’ll have your life back,” she says with a hint of sadness.
I part her legs and kiss her wet folds, causing her to cry out in pleasure.
“Meridea,” I moan against her sensitive skin.
I pause briefly, my eyes meeting hers with a wicked gleam. “It’s cute that you think you’re going anywhere.”
Her eyes widen in shock as I lick and suck on her folds, slipping two fingers into her tight, slick hole.
Meridea is mine. She’s been mine since she walked into the bar. She thinks she’s leaving. How cute.