Page 45 of His to Protect

“I mean you just turned white as a ghost.” His eyes narrowed and I felt my pulse kick up in my throat.

I swallowed and squeezed my eyes closed. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

His lips pressed together, forming a tense, straight line as he evaluated my truthfulness. “About?”

“Nothing, Declan. I swear.” I lifted up my order pad and nodded toward the kitchen door. We were too busy for either of us to be standing around chatting. Plus, I wanted to avoid this particular conversation for as long as humanly possible. “I need to get back out there and help Katie.”

“You’ll tell me later.”

“Let it go,” I said, pleading with my eyes. He wouldn’t. I already knew it. If there was one thing I was beginning to learn about Declan, it was that he took protecting someone to extremes.

He nodded once and his arms dropped to his sides. “For now, I will. But you’ll tell me, once I’ve earned your trust.”

That small, impish grin came back, along with a sparkle in his rich-brown eyes, like he’d already decided he knew he was going to get it, and he didn’t care how long it took.

The fact that he was probably right, that he already did have my trust, wasn’t something I felt like sharing at the moment.

But as my cheeks heated under the weight of his knowing gaze, I couldn’t help but feel another shudder run through me as I headed out through the kitchen doors. Except that time, the shudder was much more pleasurable. And it made me think it wouldn’t be dangerous at all to toss caution to the wind and admit to Declan that I wanted him, too.

—

“I still can’t get over how busy today was,” I told Declan as I helped him close out the cash registers in the bar. It’d become our nightly ritual when he was letting me fill in or work the floor. He sent the bartenders home early and then he and I stayed behind to close out the tills.

“Yeah. I needed this football season more than ever to hit as hard as it did.”

I frowned and lost track of the twenties I’d been counting. I’d seen his accounts and he wasn’t lying. The Fireside Grill was struggling to stay in business. Although that day had been busy, the rest of the week had been pretty slow. From what I’d seen in his computer reports, the last several months had been slow.

“Does it typically slow down in the summer?”

“Some. Most people head north to their weekend places and go on vacation, but this summer was worse than any other I’ve seen.”

“What have you done with advertising?” I asked and turned my back to the register.

I hadn’t worked for years, and the work I did do was more public relations than advertising, but ideas began slowly rolling through my mind.

He shrugged and slid a rubber band around a stack of tens. “Ad in the paper. That sort of thing. We get enough foot traffic that I haven’t done too much more.”

My lips twisted to one side as I fought to not tell him how wrong he was with that kind of thinking. As far as I could tell, the businesses in Latham Hills would all prosper if they banded together and marketed themselves as a whole. Detroit was a huge metropolis with lots to do and even more places to eat, but a lot of those places were downtown, where the tourists went to watch the professional games, see the theater shows, or visit the museums. Out in Latham Hills, they needed to be louder.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to look at me. One thick black brow arched over his eye. “You’re thinking of something.”

“Again?” I smirked. “Heaven forbid I get caught doing that twice in one day.”

A flash of concern radiated from his eyes before they crinkled at the outer edges and his lips pulled into a smile. “Teasing me? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

My smile faltered. “I haven’t had much to joke about lately.”

“Shit.” He tossed the money he was counting onto the counter and walked toward me. I threw up a hand and stopped him, shaking my head.

“I didn’t mean that, Declan. But I do have some ideas for you, a few that might help get attention, some that won’t cost you anything.”

“Like?” His curiosity piqued, he stood with his hands on his hips.

“Well. Does Latham Hills have their own fire department?” The building where Fireside was located seemed to be an old, renovated firehouse.

“Yeah. We have three stations, but most of the firemen are volunteers.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, they probably do a lot of fundraising. I know back home they do. Unfortunately, while the fire departments and EMT services are some of the city’s most important assets, they’re not always funded accordingly.” When I realized I hadn’t answered his question, my excitement growing as I had a batch of new ideas I desperately wanted to write down, I explained. “You could host a fundraiser here. It’d be cool to have it in a place like this, with all its history, and the memorabilia you have hanging on the walls. Maybe a bachelor-fireman date auction. Or…” My face lit up and my eyes widened. “You could host a photo shoot for a fireman calendar.”

---