Wyne and Chocolate (Citizen Soldier Series Book 2) (14 page)

At the
sound of the bell ringing above the doors, she smiled and turned around. “What
did you forg—” Her heart jumped to her throat, smothering the rest of her
sentence.

“Hello,
Jill.” Donny smiled, but it never quite reached his once beautiful sky blue
eyes. Now, they were kind of dull and smoky. “How’ve you been?” He gestured
around her shop with his hand while his gaze admired. “Good, by the looks of
it.”

Tamping
down her trepidation, she knew it was best to deal with him in a calm manner.
Especially if he was high or strung out. Judging by the desperation in his eyes
and smudges on the worn out coat and jeans hanging off his thin frame, he was
strung out.

Shit.
That made him even more dangerous than if he’d been high.

His
hands were shaking, too… Oh look, so were hers.

“I’m
good. Business is new. I’m still trying to get my footing,” she told him with a
hell of a lot more composure than she felt. But she needed to keep him
unruffled while she tried to get him—and more importantly
her
—out of her
shop. She was by the sink on the side wall, and he blocked the front exit;
she’d never make it to the back before him. Even though he was scrawny, he was
quick, and cunning. He no doubt already had a plan to cut her off if she moved
in that direction.

“I
always knew you’d succeed. That stupid, fucking bakery in New York never
should’ve let you go,” he said, stepping closer, still keeping his body between
her and the door. “Me either.”

Her
heart lurched, then stopped. She needed to get outside. Now.

She
grabbed the window spray and a paper towel and began to wipe down the counter. 
“You know we’re through, Donny. What is it you want?” she asked, gauging the
distance to the door.

Two
displays stood in her way no matter which side she went. Damn. She didn’t have
a choice. She had to get closer.

“Money,”
he replied, voice still level and even, thank God. “I just need a little to
hold me over until my disability check comes in.”

She
walked around the counter and stilled. “Since when are you’re on disability? I
tried for years to get you to apply.”

“Yeah,
well, I’m on it now, but it’s tough making ends meet between checks,” he said,
aggravation beginning to thin his lips.

Taking a
chance, she turned her back on him and started to spray and wipe the first
case, bringing her closer to a clear shot out the door. “I know it sucks trying
to stretch a dollar.” Mostly because of him. She’d learned the fine art during
those last two years of their marriage.

“Yeah, I
don’t know how you managed with us. I’m sorry. You were a saint,” he said, a
kernel of truth ringing in his voice.

But she
was immune. Had been through it too many times with him. Donny could be sweet
one minute, until he didn’t get what he wanted, then out of patience and mean
the next.

She
turned to face him. “That’s sweet, but you wasted a trip. I don’t have any
money.”

“What?”
He reeled back and sneered. “Look at this place. You’re rolling in it.”

“No. I’m
not.” She shook her head, heart pounding so loud in her chest it probably
registered on the Richter scale. “Every penny is tied up in this place, Donny.
Between rent and overhead and stock and payroll…”

“Bullshit!”
He grabbed her wrist and squeezed. “Just open the register and give me what’s
in there.”

She
stilled. “No.”

“What do
you mean, no, bitch?”

Jill
answered by spraying him in the eyes with her cleaning solution, then pushed
him with all her might and made a mad dash for the door, praying she could reach
it before he reached her.

Chapter Fifteen

 

M
ason was on the drill floor, near the supply cage, still
recalling the taste of Jill’s lips on his less than an hour ago, when Lea burst
in, gaze frantic as she searched around. Body instantly on alert, he slapped
Ben on the arm to get his attention and rushed to the ruffled woman.

“Lea,
what is?” he asked.

Ben
pushed past him to grab her arm. “You okay?”

She
nodded. “It’s Jill. Some guy is harassing her outside her shop. I didn’t call
911 because I knew Jeremy was here.”

Hollering
for their cop friend, Jeremy Mercer, to join them, Mason sprinted for the door,
Ben at his side. His heart was hammering in his throat as he crossed the street
and raced the two blocks to the Confection Connection and the surly looking
jerk twisting Jill’s arm. “Hey,” he yelled without stopping his pace. “Let her
go!”

The
asshole stilled, then turned around toward them, and if Mason hadn’t been out
of his mind with worry over Jill, he probably would’ve found the guy’s raised
brows and
I-Just-Shit-Myself
expression comical.

He
wasn’t laughing.

No. He.
Was. Pissed.

And
shaking from head-to-toe with anger as he watched the fucker run off.

Son
of a bitch!

Even
though he wanted to chase the punk down and beat the shit out of him, he ran to
Jill, his concern for her over-ruling his need to mangle. Jeremy, Keiffer, Greg
and her cousin, Nico, passed them in hot pursuit. He’d let them deal with the
guy.

“You
okay?” he asked as he approached, his heart clenching at the emotions making
her eyes appear so damn dark in her pale face.

Holding
herself erect, arms hugging her body, she nodded, and broke his heart. She was
so Goddamn used to handling things on her own.

Not
giving a shit who was around, he pulled her close and held her tight. “You’re
sure you’re okay?”

She
nodded, finally slipping her arms around him. “I…why are you here?” she asked,
drawing back to look up at him through rounded eyes, obviously blown away that
he’d appeared, along with half the National Guard.

“Lea
came in and told us some guy was harassing you.”

“And you
came?” Her gaze grew bigger, as did his ire.

He
reeled back. “Of course. Jesus, Jill,” he said, heart lurching again as he
cupped her face with one hand. “Hasn’t anyone ever had your back before?”

“No.”

It
wasn’t the word that delivered another invisible blow, it was the way she’d
said it, like he was crazy. Like it was normal for people to look the other way
and not show decency. God, just the thought of her living in a world so
uncaring and cold all her life made him nuts.

Well,
that wasn’t
his
normal. Nor anyone he knew. It was something she was
going to discover living in the Poconos.

“Then
you’d better get used to it,” Ben said, stepping closer.

Ryder,
Lea’s brother nodded. “We do things differently here.”

“Yea,”
Lea said, appearing with Gwen. “So, why don’t we take this inside so you don’t
catch a cold.”

Mason
silently cursed for not realizing Jill was outside in a sweater. “Come on,” he
said, ushering her into the shop.

Everything
inside him tightened at the sight of a spray bottle and rag discarded on the
floor near one of the cases, and a round table display upended with its
contents littered all over the floor. How they ended up that way burned a whole
in his gut, but he clenched his jaw to keep a lid on his cool. She’d been
through enough and didn’t need to see any more violence.

Although
he wanted to keep holding her, he made her sit on the closest chair, then
turned to see if Scott Holden, full time paramedic, had joined the group. He
didn’t have to look far. The tall, green-eyed guardsman pushed through the
small crowd with his pack.

“Hi,
Jill. My gram loved those chocolates last week,” Scott said, kneeling down with
his kit. Thank God the guy was always prepared.

“Mason,”
Ben called him over to one of the counters, but he wasn’t ready to leave her
side just yet.

She
must’ve read the hesitation in his gaze because she squeezed his hand and
smiled up at him. “It’s okay. Go ahead. I’m fine.”

“Yeah.
I’ve got water for her,” Gwen said, sitting next to Jill.

“And I
have Better Than cake for her. Chocolate’s a great cure. She’ll be fine,” Lea
insisted, setting it on the table before pulling a chair to Jill’s other side
and sitting down.

Only
when Scott finished checking her blood pressure and reassured him she was fine
did he head to where Ben and Keiffer stood with Jeremy and Nico.

“We lost
him,” the cop said, and before the curses left Mason’s tongue, the guy
continued. “I have an APB out on him, and now that I know his name, it should
help. Although, there’s no guarantee.”

He
glanced at the guys and frowned. “How do you know his name?” It wasn’t anyone
he’d ever seen in the area before.

“I told
him,” Nico said, anger still present in his dark gaze. “It was her piece of
shit ex-husband, Donny.”

Jesus.

Mason
sucked in a breath and turned to glance at Jill. Sweet. Caring. Beautiful. “She
was married to that…”

“Piece
of shit? Yes,” Nico said, running his hand through his short, black hair.
“Although, in fairness, the guy wasn’t always that way. I didn’t always want to
rearrange his teeth.”

Ben
nodded. “Sucks how dependency can change a person.”

“I don’t
know him, or how he was before,” Mason rasped out, unable to get the image of
the guy hurting Jill out of his mind. “All I know is this dirt bag was
manhandling Jill, and now he’s on the loose. What are we going to do about it?”

Jeremy’s
brows rose and an inflexible expression crossed his face. “
We
aren’t
going to do anything. Let the police handle this, Mason.”

“Yeah,
bro.” Keiffer cupped his shoulder and nodded. “Stay away from the guy. Just
concentrate on Jill.”

He
glanced at the mess surrounding them, and his anger rose. She’d taken pride in
having everything neat and orderly, giving the place a fun and tasty
atmosphere. Now it just spoke of violence. His gut clenched. “I want one minute
with him.”

“I’d
settle for thirty seconds,” Nico said with a nod.

Jeremy’s
gaze grew stern. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that if you both turn
around and go see to Jill.”

Fine. He
pivoted around and strode to the woman who was now standing, serving Scott and
a few others a piece of cake. A smile tugged his lips. The sweet woman was made
of some stern stuff. And, damn, it was a big turn on.

“Got any
sweetness for me?” he asked as he approached.

She
turned and smiled, sliding her palms up his chest. “Always,” she said, and he
set his hands on her waist as she leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I
keep the secret stuff just for you.”

And now
he was rock hard.

He
tightened his hold. “Lucky me.”

She drew
back and stared up, her fathomless dark eyes sucking him in, interrupting his
pulse, turning his world on its axis. Until someone cleared their throat.

Scott.

“So,
Jill, if that wrist continues to hurt, I want you to go see a doctor. Okay?”
the paramedic asked.

Mason
narrowed his eyes, glancing from her bruised wrist to her face.

“Okay.”

He
squeezed her waist and waited until her gaze returned to his. “I think since
your ex is still on the loose, you should move your sleepover to the resort.
I’ll make sure you get a free room. I know the owner,” he said with a grin,
trying to keep things light despite the need to throttle someone rushing
through his veins.

Her gaze
widened as the girls gasped.

“That
was your ex?” Lea frowned.

“What a
jerk,” Gwen said after Jill nodded.

He
crooked a finger under her chin and forced her lowered gaze to his once more,
his chest tightening at look of shame in her eyes. “Don’t,” he said. “You have
no reason to be embarrassed. You are not responsible for other people’s
actions, Jill. Donny is responsible for Donny. End of subject.”

“Amen.”
Lea nodded.

Nico
stepped closer and touched her arm. “And if I get my hands on him, you’re not
responsible for mine, either.”

A small
smile tugged her lips. “Thanks, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She
glanced at him. “Both of you. Please, promise me you’ll let him be.”

Mason’s
grunt echoed Nico’s, until she narrowed her gaze.


Promise
me.”

Her
cousin grumbled, but finally nodded. “I promise.”

She
turned to him, sliding her hands to his collar and gripped tight. “Mason? Come
on, I don’t want you getting in trouble over Donny. He’s not worth it.”

“Fine.”
He blew out a breath. “I promise to let him be if you promise to move your
sleepover tonight. If he knew where you worked, then he knows where you live,
and I’m stuck in the armory all weekend. I don’t want to be worrying about you
at home.”

Lea
stepped forward to place a hand on Jill’s shoulder. “She can stay with me at
Ben’s cabin.”

He
glanced back to Jill.

“Okay.”
She nodded. “I don’t like being run out of my home. I’m so tired of running,
but I’ll do this…for you, Mason.”

He knew
the situation was dire, but the surge of relief, and something more, something
big he didn’t recognize, eased his heart and made him feel ten feet tall. He
wasn’t sure he’d fit through her door.

What he
did know, was it was going to be one hell of a long weekend.

 

A
fter the longest weekend of her life, Jill was finally enjoying
herself Sunday afternoon, spreading the last of the bright blue frosting on
Tyler’s cupcakes along with him and his grandfather in the little boy’s kitchen
at the resort. Time was moving on, putting Friday’s horrible incident in the
past, and bringing her that much closer to seeing Mason.

The
colonel, Tyler’s grandfather, Mason’s dad, told her drill normally ended around
four in the afternoon. She glanced at the clock on the oven. Two minutes past.

Her
heart beats increased. Damn, she had it bad for the guy if he could make her
pulse race when he wasn’t even in the room.

Although
she knew that should make her leery given the countdown and all, she chose to
turn her back on the negative. The weekend had been full of it, with the
exception of making, then drinking, chocolate margaritas with her friends
yesterday. Time to look ahead.

“Well
now, Tyler,” the colonel said, proud gaze on his grandson. “These look pretty
good.”

The
little boy grinned. “I know. Wait until Johnny Tupper sees them.”

“I bet
he’ll want two,” she said, watching him carefully place the special pieces of
superhero-shaped chocolates on top.

He laughed.
“Yeah, but we only made enough for one a piece. The rest I’m keeping here.” He
stopped what he was doing, wiped his little fingers on a napkin then walked
over to her and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Jill. And thanks for letting me help
in my own kitchen.”

Her
throat tightened, then squeezed at the look of appreciation the colonel sent
her way. She squeezed the boy back and cleared her throat. “You’re more than
welcome, Tyler. You were a great helper, too. So was your grandfather.”

“Yeah.”
He released her and went back to decorating the cupcakes. “Pop sure knows his
stuff.”

She was
sharing a smile with the older man when her cell phone started to ring. She
fished it from her back pocket and smiled at the name on the screen. Mason.

“Hey,
you,” she said, settling her back against the far counter so she could watch
the little boy while she talked, but mostly for support because her knees
suddenly wobbled.

“Hi,
Jill,” he said, sounding as anxious as she felt. “You at Ethan’s with Tyler?”

“Yeah.”
She nodded as if he could see her.
Idjit.
“I’m in love with your
brother’s kitchen.”

He
laughed and said something, but she could barely hear with all the commotion
going on in the background. Apparently drills were as noisy as their name.

“Stay
put. I’ll be there soon,” he said.

“Okay,”
she replied, but he was already gone.

Tyler
glanced at her, excitement alive in his gaze. “Is my dad, Uncle Mason and Uncle
Keiffer on their way home?”

Shoving
the phone back in her pocket, she nodded, assuming Ethan would leave at the
same time as his brothers. Heck, for all she knew, they’d carpooled. Or, in
their case,
truck-pooled
.

“Hurray!
I can’t wait to show them what we made!” The little boy was practically jumping
up and down.

Hiding a
smile, she opened an airtight container and started to load the cupcakes. “You
finish those, and I’ll start packing these so they don’t dry out.” After all
his hard work, she was going to do her best to ensure the treats arrived at
their destination in pristine condition.

She was
just loading up the last one when Mason, Ethan and Keiffer…and Ben, Lea, Nico
and Jeremy walked into the kitchen. That was quick. Assuming it was a normal
after drill thing to have everyone over, she smiled, until she caught the
concern in the colonel’s gaze and the relief in the others’ eyes.

Her
heart rocked, then rolled when Mason pulled her into his chest and held her
tight at the same time Ethan grabbed his son.

“I’m so
damn glad you’re here, Jill,” Mason said.

She was
glad, too, but there was definitely something else going on. Like the fact he
was still squeezing her tight. Not that she was complaining, but her instincts
told her this was bad. Still, whatever it was, was going to have to wait. Tyler
had poured too much of his energy and soul into his birthday treats. The little
guy deserved his praise.

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