Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Titus heard a thumping coming from Emelia’s bedroom. He looked at his watch. Only two hours had passed. Noiselessly, he stood from the couch and leaned in to listen at the door.
“Aaaaaaahhhh.”
Emelia flung open the door and shrieked. Because he was so close, he was sure he was now deaf in one ear.
“Oh, my goodness,” she exclaimed when she realized it was him. “I’m so sorry. Didn’t expect you standing there.” She cocked her head. “Why were you there?”
Titus tapped his ear with his hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard a noise and was curious,” he replied in a strained voice, his pounding heart just quieting down.
“Oh.” She slowly opened the door, and he moved back to let her out. He might be temporarily deaf in one ear, but his eyes worked just fine. He swallowed hard. Emelia had on a pair of pink boy shorts and a thin-strapped top. And she looked delicious.
Delicious? What the hell. The bakery jargon was getting to him. But he couldn’t deny that she looked sexy as all get-out.
“I was getting a glass of water.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice huskier than usual. He coughed.
Emelia shrugged. “I did for a while but…” She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Come on out and sit. I’ll get you a glass of water, and we can discuss your concerns.”
“’Kay.” She sank into one chair while Titus grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.
“Here you go,” he said as he handed her the glass.
“Thanks.” Emelia took a big swallow of water and leaned her head back.
Titus settled on the couch opposite her and clasped his hands. “What’s going on?”
She took her time to respond. “Since I’ve moved here, I’ve had several problems,” she began, her voice tinged with weariness. “One was the bidding war for the shop, which I won. Another was missing supplies.”
“Did you ever find out what happened to them?”
“Yes. One of my employees took them. She gave me a sob story about how broke she was and needed them. But…” She paused and held her finger up. “I know that no individual needs fifty pounds of flour, tubs of dried fruit, yeast, at least twenty pounds of butter. She was lying to me.”
Titus shook his head. “It sure sounds like it.” He rubbed his forehead. “Do you think she’s behind the graffiti?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anyone else you can think of?”
Emelia hesitated. She opened her mouth to speak, to say something, stopped, thought better of it, and crossed her arms before shaking her head.
She was hiding something, but what?
After tossing and turning, Emelia couldn’t stand being in bed anymore.
Besides, she was thirsty after eating the salty fries. She sure hadn’t expected Titus to be on the other side of the door when she opened it.
He didn’t say anything, but his eardrum had to hurt. She was close to him when she screamed.
After she took a deep breath, Emelia appreciated the fact that he stayed over. Her mind was in overdrive, unable to fathom who would deface her windows. Could Patty? Could Wyatt? Maybe. She could believe Wyatt would do something like that and more.
She told Titus about Patty and the bidding war.
However, no way was she mentioning Wyatt. That entire period of her life had traumatized her. She looked like the worst kind of friend, employer, and person, and it still embarrassed her.
Emelia hated worrying about what people thought, but it was a vice of hers she couldn’t shake.
Titus listened intently as she spoke. Goosebumps caused her to shiver, and Emelia realized she was sitting in front of him with practically nothing on.
“Here,” said Titus. His voice softened as he stood to hand her the sheet from the bed.
She wrapped herself in it. “Thanks.”
“Emelia, we’ll figure this out, I promise. I’ll ask one of the guys at the Brotherhood Alliance if they can find out any information.”
“The police said they would check the security cameras around the street.”
He nodded. “My guy is better.”
“Oh.” She grimaced. “It’s not illegal, is it?”
“Define illegal.”
“Ha ha,” Emelia replied. “I’m not sure what the Brotherhood Alliance does. No one would explain it to me. Would you?”
“Sure. The Brotherhood Alliance is on the campus of Paws for Caring,” he said. “I believe you know Joy owned the land and donated it to train shelter dogs to become companions.”
She nodded.
“Her brother Chase runs the group.”
“That fact I know because Joy told me,” she said interrupting him. “It seems as if some of the women in the group are with guys from the Brotherhood.”
He shook his head. “True. But that’s not my story to tell.”
“Hmmm.”
“Okay, so we have ten employees who are in the field,” he continued. “We all come from military backgrounds. A couple of the guys have some form of PTSD, and three of us live in the small cabins surrounding the campus. I live in one.”
He took a deep breath and released it. “We take on security jobs. Plus, we have full-time jobs. We use the skills we learned in the military to protect clients.”
He appeared ready to add more yet held back. So, what was he hiding? She’d let it go now, but curiosity would get the better of her soon.
“Sounds like you’ve found your niche.”
He nodded. “I love owning the gym, and I love protecting people besides keeping up with my other skills.”
Emelia let out an enormous yawn.
Titus chuckled. “Why don’t you go back to bed? Everything will look better in the morning.”
“Humph. I don’t know about that. I do have a business to run, and I need to get up in”—she looked at her watch—“three hours to deal with the graffiti and then start baking.”
“I’ll help.”
She frowned. “With the baking?”
“Ha. No, silly, with the graffiti. You sure don’t want to open with that written on your windows.”
“No.” She sighed. “No, I don’t. It’s just one more thing to worry about.”
Titus leaned over and took her hand. “You’re not alone here. In the morning, I’ll deal with the graffiti and”—he looked around her apartment—“security here and in the bakery.”
Emelia gave him a small smile, but her eyes filled with sorrow. “Titus, I don’t have money for any kind of security. But thank you for thinking of that.”
He released her hand and smiled. “Hmmm.”
Emelia turned and walked back to her bedroom and climbed under the covers, staring at the ceiling. So many thoughts ran through her mind. What had she done wrong to deserve this kind of abuse? She thought she was a good person, a great friend, talented, happy, and enjoyed giving back. Why wasn’t it enough?