Chapter 6
Fleur
A weapon.
The man had had a gun pointed. At me? Who did he think would be knocking on the door early on a snowy morning?
Even more than the afternoon before, an aura of danger surrounded him, as thick as the haze of sensuality.
What was wrong with every man in the entire continental United States? Why were they all flakes in general, assholes often, and with some sliding into the realm of being monsters?
I didn’t know what in the world had possessed me to make the arrogant prince homemade muffins. Sure, I baked sometimes when I was nervous, but that wasn’t the case around him. I’d been incensed, furious with his attitude.
What bothered me almost as much as his reaction had been that I’d wanted to make the muffins special.
Maybe the small-town vibe was finally rubbing off on me after a couple of years.
The coffee had been an afterthought, but I’d made the special brew, a bag of coffee that I’d ordered as a treat after my one-year anniversary of the store being open. I’d even ground the beans myself.
I was furious I’d wasted my time.
Then again, maybe the mischievous girl inside of me had taken advantage of the situation. There were vacation homes dotted throughout the mountain landscape, but the Prince house was my favorite in town, the Swiss chalet design creating whimsical fantasies about living in the Alps.
Ridiculous of course.
It was even more beautiful up close. Spectacular detail had gone into both the design and build out, the craftsmanship rivaling anything I’d seen in magazines.
And the backdrop was to die for. Nestled at the base of Mt.
Mansfield, every angle no matter where I’d stood had provided breathtaking views.
But not nearly as breath-stealing as after Mr. Prince had opened his front door.
Holy hell in a handbasket. Zoe’s favorite expression. While I’d captured an idea of his handsome physique under his tailored suit, catching sight of him without a shirt and in bare feet had tossed my hormones into overdrive. At least I’d been right about something else regarding the man.
He was built like a brick shithouse. A saying Bekka used all the time. All buff with every muscle sculpted. Not merely from lifting weights and doing cardio exercises, but also from inheritance. He came from good genes.
What I’d barely been able to keep my eyes off had been the way both arms had been mapped with colorful tattoos.
One was a sleeve with continuous ink crawling over his shoulder onto his chest. Given the design, I had the distinct feeling the vivid artistry continued down his back.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew if I succeeded in decoding them, I’d regret doing so.
Yet I couldn’t help allowing my eyes to trace the intricate patterns, my curiosity about his identity increasing.
It had been obvious I’d awakened him, the sexy look about him including tousled hair and a two-day stubble that completely covered his cheeks and jaw. Yummy.
Nope. I wasn’t going down that road thinking of him as anything I would or could put my hands on. I’d apologized because that had been the way I’d been raised and that was that. Other than getting my plate and thermos back. At least I knew where he lived.
Not that I’d get an invite back. Not a chance in hell.
I made a turn, doing my best to get him off my mind. I had a busy day and had yet to pick up a present for Zoe’s party. What did you get the woman who had everything?
Including the hottest man in town.
Well, the second hottest man now that Mr. Prince had rolled into town. I had no idea who he was, but a part of me was eager to learn. Not just out of curiosity either. I knew his type far too well, men who paraded around as decent human beings while hiding dark secrets.
It wasn’t my place of course to warn anyone in town about my suspicions, but if I discovered he had ill intent in mind, a small part of me felt like it was my duty.
I pulled into the parking lot and into my usual spot, barely managing to throw the gear into park when I heard the chirping of my phone. My chosen ring was far too chipper this morning. Given I was running late, I didn’t bother glancing at the screen before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sis. Don’t hang up.”
That’s exactly what I almost did, driven into zero movement while I tried to ascertain how in the hell my brother had gotten my phone number.
Or why he was bothering to contact me. During our last conversation now eighteen months before, I’d made it perfectly clear I never wanted to hear from him again.
After doing so, I’d felt guilty and angry for weeks, finally trying to put my past behind me. Why did he choose to make contact today of all days?
“What do you want, Danny? I have work to do.” Thankfully, he had no clue about what I did or that I owned a business.
Not unless he’d gone to great lengths to snoop into my life.
Which I doubted. He had far more important things to do like killing people for monsters who dared not get their hands dirty and ruining his life.
“I’ve missed talking to you.”
I’d thought his words couldn’t surprise me longer. Laughing, I grabbed my bag and climbed out, careful to avoid the few patches of ice. Even though with the wind and frigid air I was freezing, I had no intention of allowing anyone to hear anything about my sordid family complications.
“You don’t miss anything but my money, Danny. I told you before, I’m not bailing you out again.”
His laugh was as unnerving as the call. “I don’t need your money, sis. I have my own. Lots of it. Enough to pay you back with interest.”
Maybe he knew his offer would catch me off guard and prevent me from hanging up on him, changing my cellphone number once again. “Okay. I’ll give you a post office box where you can send it. If you’re really serious.” Which I doubted. What I hated was that the money would come in handy.
I’d likely given him twenty thousand dollars over time.
My brother had been into various dubious activities for years.
He’d also fought addictions since he was a teenager, the four stints in rehab barely scratching the surface of whatever had been bothering him.
He’d been a troubled kid all his life. While we both had reasons to be uncertain of life as a whole, I’d fought my way through the system whereas he’d been caught in acts of self-pity.
At least his voice was firm, not struggling with words like the last time we’d talked.
“Look, I need to talk to you. That’s it.”
I wanted nothing more than to believe him, but Danny’s constant lies and promises, his acts of violence and his hatred of the entire world, including me, prevented me from opening my arms.
Or my heart.
Chilled to the bone, I moved closer to the side of the building, huddling with one arm wrapped around the other.
My condition had little to do with the dampness in the air or the snow on the ground.
Violence and bloodshed followed my brother wherever he went like a coiled noose.
One day, he’d be forced to surrender to the path he’d chosen.
I wanted no part of it.
“I’m not falling for your games any longer, Danny. I wish you well and I truly hope you can make something of your life, but I’m not interested in being your crutch any longer.”
“That’s not it. I just need to see you. Somewhere private.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
I could envision him wincing as he always did when I yelled at him, which was often when we were kids. Even though I tried to look out for him, he never listened to me.
Also, as he did as a kid, he shrank into his shell. “Danny. What is going on?”
“Fine. I understand. Nothing I can’t handle.
I’m sorry to bother you.” He ended the call, which was so like him anytime we had an argument.
He’d either walk out of the room or end the phone call.
Nothing ever changed. Except today I felt even guiltier than the last time, when I’d had a legitimate reason to be furious with him.
While groaning, I redialed the number, expecting to get a voicemail.
When the call when nowhere, no clicking sounds, the ring ceasing completely, I reminded myself why I’d cut ties. Loaning him money I never expected to see again wasn’t the real reason.
My sweet brother, the kid who’d fought his demons with laughter and cuddles when we were younger had turned into the big bad wolf we’d both been afraid of.
A soldier for a crime syndicate.
“I’m glad you love it, Marge. That is my favorite suncatcher. When the piece came in, I knew you’d love it.” There was nothing like having regular customers.
“I have a perfect spot for this one. Right over my kitchen sink. It’ll catch the early morning sunlight.” She twirled the creation of art, her eyes misting over. “The puppy looks just like Jesse.”
I gripped her arm, squeezing for comfort.
“Maybe this will give you some comfort and let you know your fur baby is looking down on you, waiting to see you again. Let me wrap that up for you.” Gently easing the suncatcher from her hand, I caught sight of Ashley’s smile.
Business had increased after she’d introduced me to a friend of hers who crafted nothing but fur baby suncatchers.
The artistry was amazing. Even on a snowy day, the store was filled with customers. Every Friday I introduced a new artist or product.
Another chime over the door meant another customer.
“Let me take this one,” Ashley said with a slight shake of her head. She knew how I adored greeting every customer myself.
“You’re so sweet, Fleur. I’ll never forget the first time you ran into Jesse.” Marge wiped her eyes. I couldn’t imagine losing a pet.
Laughing, I headed around the counter, grabbing tissue paper and a box. “I think you mean when Jesse ran into me.”