Setting down at my desk, I pull out this week's numbers and start going through inventory logs and next week's appointments.

  Each person rents their own space within the shop. They pay a fee to have their stations and when they need products from the shop, they scan the barcode on that item under their assigned number and they pay the product fees at the end of month. This system also helps me know when to order what, and allows us to never run out of products needed to function.

  I am so wrapped up in my paperwork that I don’t notice I am no longer alone until someone clears their throat.

  Glancing to the door I find Audrey, leaning against the door frame, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Hey,” I’ve kept my distance, not wanting to crowd her. That is all she needs, everyone asking questions and making it harder for her to gain her footing. I can’t imagine what it is she is going through, and I hope I never have to live it. I honestly don’t know how her name hasn’t been plastered across all the news channels for murder. I would have cut off Lincoln’s balls and left him to bleed out.

  Jerk!

  “I have a favor,” she comes closer and sits in the chair opposite mine.

  “Name it,” I close my book and give her my undivided attention.

  “I have an unexpected meeting and my hair and nails are a mess.” She holds out her hand, and it's really not that bad. “With everything else a mess I want to do this right, ya know.”

  “Say no more,” I stand and round my desk.

  “I understand if you don’t have time."

  “My morning is completely free,” besides an eleven a.m hair cut but I’ll have Hannah take it for me. “Let’s get you in a chair and pampered.”

  Together we walk out front, and I spend the next two hours ensuring that my friend feels like she is a goddess. She left the salon with a smile on her face, and that smile alone makes everything fall into place.

  She is tough, and she will get through this, I have no doubt.

  My phone beeps in my purse as I am exiting the salon.

  Locking the door, I turn around and start toward my car, pulling it out of my bag.

  Ty: I have one more night before I have to return to the station. Are you free?

  Butterflies fill my stomach and I pause at the side of my car and type out a response.

  Me: What did you have in mind?

  Last night did not play out like I thought it would. When Tyler climbed into his bed with me he offered me several kisses then rolled over on his side, and we spent hours talking. He talked about some of the calls they’ve had at the station. Both legitimate and those crazy ones that unless you saw them, you’d never believe them.

  I can’t remember a time I laughed so hard.

  I don’t even know what time it was when we both finally fell asleep, but I woke up to him sitting on the side of his bed, holding a cup of coffee for me.

  A few more kisses, and a drive to my apartment, before he dropped me off at my door.

  Ty: Me, you, food and drinks, your place or mine. Movie, popcorn on the couch, lots of kissing, and if I’m really lucky you’ll let me make it to second base.

  I laugh at his message.

  “Are you laughing at my plans?”

  I spin around to find Tyler standing a few feet around on the sidewalk, as he continues toward me. It's dark outside and I hadn’t even heard him.

  “Second base?” I ask, as he steps-up to my side and leans in to kiss my lips. Softly, and much too short, he pulls back and leans against the side of my car.

  “I didn’t want to be too presumptuous,” He shrugs his shoulders.

  “You can presume,” I say feeling a little brave, and I move in front of him and grip his shirt at his waist. Lifting myself I press my lips to his and he circles my waist with his arm, pulling my body in tight. Our tongues mingle, and I may have rubbed up on him a little more than necessary, but I can’t seem to control it.

  When he growls out a pleased moan I bite his lower lip and give a little tug.

  “So is that a yes to second base?”

  I step back and smile so big it hurts my cheeks. “Depends on what you are bringing me for dinner.”

  “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll be at your doorstep.”

  “Wait,” I say to his back, and he stops turning around to face me with his keys in his hand. “Where are you going to park your truck?”

  “Amara,” he tilts his head to the side. “I’ll park around the back, no one can see it from the road, and most won’t pay attention when it's mingling with all the other cars.”

  I nod in agreement, knowing that if anyone stopped by they’d pull in the front parking lot. I just want to keep this to ourselves for now.

  “You get the movie?”

  “I have Netflix,” I tell him, and he nods. “But I still get to choose.”

  I wasn’t sure we’d even make it to the movie section of our evening but it’s there if we need it.

  I drove home feeling giddy and nervous.

  Pulling up at my apartment I am disappointed when I see my dad’s truck idling on the curb. All the excitement I felt moments ago comes to a screeching halt when I worry myself sick over what this visit could possibly mean.

  My brother is annoying with his need to protect, but my father, he is impossible.

  “Hey kid,” He says when I climb out of my car.

  “Hey,” Grabbing my bag, I toss it up over my shoulder. “What’s up?”

  “I’m gonna need a favor,” he points to the truck and that’s when I see Leah sitting in the passenger seat. She is looking down, but I can already tell she is crying and my stomach drops.

  “Mom’s still at Gran’s house and we seem to have a meltdown taking place that I’m not equipped to handle.”

  Though I’m relieved he isn’t here to drill me about rumors of me and Ty. That aren’t so much, rumors anymore. I’m still full of anxiousness because I’m already flying into big sister mode.

  “Bitchy girl drama?” Girls can be so mean to each other at this age.

  “That, then throw in Dirk Benson and you’ve got crisis mode. You know me, I want to jump in my truck and go beat the little bastard within an inch of his life, but that won’t fix anything. So I figure you talking this out with her might be the better option.”

  “Yeah, you landing yourself in jail won’t help matters much.”

  “Leah,” My father’s booming voice echoes throughout the parking lot of the apartment complex. “Come on girl.”

  She pushes open the door, crawls out like she has no energy.

  “What happened to the girl who beat up Nolan Green after he told you he liked you and then got caught holding Lilly’s hand? Or the girl who kicked Mark Hendricks in his goodies after punching him in the nose for grabbing your butt.”

  “Excuse me,” my father pipes in and I wave him off.

  Suddenly, Leah is rushing forward and falling into my arms. Her body shakes as she cries on my shoulder, and I chance a look at my dad who is barely holding his shit together.

  “I got this, why don’t you head home.” He nods and then moves to his truck but pauses at the door and hollers at the two of us. “One call and I’ll have my shotgun in my truck and on my way over to the Benson's.”

  “I got it dad,” I offer him a reassuring smile and he climbs into his truck.

  Leading my sister inside I remember my plans with Ty and quickly grab my phone.

  Me: Change of plans. Big sister is needed for a teenage meltdown.

  Ty: Need help?

  Me: No, I just need to help Leah realize she’s much better than Dirk Benson and his game of musical girls.

  Ty: Oh shit, bet dad and brother are ready to break out the shotguns.

  Me: Not sure Tucker knows yet, but dad is hanging off a cliff.

  Ty: Rain check?

  Me: Definitely!

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  Tyler

  Dinner is over, the kitchen is cleaned, and we are all sitting in the open doorway, enjoying the quiet night. Though we never say that particular word within the walls of this station because it seems to set off some type of reaction where all hell breaks loose. So instead we silently bask in our slow evening.

  Leaning forward in my chair, I rest my elbows on my knees when I hear female voices and look up just as two young women walk by. Both of them watch us, offering waves and smiles, and I glance back down at my phone.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Liam nudges my leg with his foot, and I almost drop my phone. “Are you sick?”

  “No,” I wrinkle my forehead in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because while sitting here I’ve watched at least three different women walk by and offer the look and you haven’t even flinched.” He is eyeing me like I’ve done something wrong.

  “So,” I shrug, sitting back in my chair, slouching and holding his stare.

  “No, not so,” I wonder where he is going with this. “You’re usually working your magic and lining up a date, whenever the opportunity arises.”

  “Seriously, you act like I’m nailing anything with legs on a daily basis."

  He shrugs.

  “As far as I know you are the only one that managed to go away for a weekend wedding and got himself laid by a random stranger.” And we’ve come full circle back to this. “What did you do, pick her up in the hotel lobby, or was it on the beach?”

  “You have no idea what you are talking about.” I’m not doing this with him.

  “I heard you two, that shit was loud.” He grins widely, “There is no way you are convincing me you were alone in there if that’s your plan. There was some feminine squealing mixed in with your moans.”

  I’ve grown irritated with how my sex life has become such a popular topic.

  “If anyone is going to be the one to nail a nameless chick it would be you.” He chuckles like he has me all figured out and it infuriates me. I’ve been classified as this pig of sorts, and it’s finally come to a head.

  “It wasn’t some random fucking girl you asshole,” I stand up and the chair I was sitting in falls backwards. “It was Amara."

  The minute I say it I regret it. Liam doesn’t deserve my honesty right now. But it's too late and I’m still irritable.

  “I’m not some fucking whore just because I haven’t committed my life to one woman, that doesn’t make me easy.”

  He holds my stare, and I don’t know if it's because he is seconds away from hitting me in the face, or that he’s still shocked by my confession, either way it doesn’t stop me.

  “I don’t see you married with kids.” Placing my hands on my hips, needing to do something with them. “Why am I classified as a fucking pig, but you are just, Liam.” I don’t allow him to answer. “So I slept around, I never once tricked any of the women into thinking it was more. I’ve kept things clear; I’ve told them it was nothing more. They willingly participated so it is what it is.”

  He finally responds, “And now?”

  I’m thankful he seems calm. Chief would bench us both if we broke out in a fist fight in front of our station.

  “And now things are fucking different.” That is all I give him, as silence settles in over us. Me standing, Liam still sitting in his chair.

  Until Liam speaks again, his words surprise me.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you just tell me it was Mar weeks ago?” He is unexpectedly calm.

  “Because you're a dick who thinks that I’m some prick that bangs anything with tits and I was pissed at your opinion of me.”

  He chuckles and I finally relax, picking up my chair and righting it.

  “So, Amara.” He adds as I sit back down next to him. “You think you’re gonna convince her to give you a shot?”

  “Already did,” I finally smile thinking of her asleep in my arms last night. “But for now we’ve decided to keep it to ourselves. She doesn’t think there’s any reason to add in the pressure of everyone’s questions and concerns. When the time's right, everyone will know.”

  “So I’m the exception to this secret?”

  “No, you are just a dick, and we aren’t gonna tell Mar that you forced me to tell you.”

  “I didn’t force shit; you just blew a gasket and spilled your secrets. Such a fucking girl,” he grins.

  Suddenly the alarm is ringing, and we are both up and rushing to our turnout gear, loading up on the truck. Everyone climbs in and we pray that this isn’t the time this piece of shit truck decides to give us fits.

  When it roars to life we all let out a hoot and then sound the siren as we set out to our call.

  Me: You awake?

  I could have called her, but it's so late and I didn’t want to wake her. When my phone vibrates almost immediately with a reply I can’t help settling in to my cot and repositioning my pillow so I can read it.

  Amara: No

  I chuckle imagining her half asleep and cursing me.

  Amara: And you shouldn’t be either.

  She adds.

  Me: Just got back from a call.

  Amara: Anything interesting?

  Me: Woman locked her husband out of their apartment, she refused to let him back in. So, he pulled the alarm, and everyone was forced to evacuate.

  Amara: Did he get in the apartment?

  Me: Only to get his shoes so he didn’t go to jail barefoot.

  Amara: OMG are you serious?

  Now I have her attention.

  Me: Disorderly conduct, cops hauled him away and wife tried to take the fall, saying she forced him.

  Amara: Her plan backfired for sure.

  “Audrey needs our help,” Liam announces out of nowhere. Everyone turns their attention to him as he looks around at all of us. “She’s got a project for work and needs volunteers. I told her not to worry that the station has it covered.”

  “Has what covered?” Coleton asks.

  “An auction,” Liam looks back at him.

  “Like antiques and shit?”

  “No, like us,” he clarifies.

  “Say what?” It's my turn to intervene. “Us as in we are the items being bid on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hot damn,” Fitz looks excited and if I was closer I’d sweep his feet out from under him.

  “You have to,” Liam says. “Audrey needs this. She needs a fucking win and we’re all going to help her get it.”

  Liam is determined as he stands in front of all of us, giving us no choice but to agree. It seems we will all be auctioned off to the highest bidder and some of the guys are really happy about the possibilities. I, on the other hand, can think of a million other things I’d rather do.

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

  Amara

  I woke up with a headache. Not a light irritating one that still allows you to function because that would have been too easy. Nope, mine is pounding so hard it feels like my head is about to explode, kind of headache. Nauseated too, and I’m literally afraid to move.

  Doing my best to reach over onto my nightstand in search of my phone I grab it and hold it out before me. Everything seems blurred from my inability to hold my eyes open long.

  Typing out a quick message to Hannah I let her know I think I am hanging on the edge of death and won’t be in today, I toss the phone to my left and hear the thud as it hits the floor.

  I know she’ll cover the salon, so I don’t bother to read the return message.

  I close my eyes and pull the blankets up over my head, curling into myself.

  I jolt awake when I feel a heavy hand rest on my hip. Turning quickly I peek through my mess of hair and find Ty sitting on the edge of my bed.

  “Hey sleepyhead,” he grins, and I am baffled. I must be dreaming, there is no way he is here.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Looking around the room, I notice that the blinds and curtains are all drawn, giving me privacy from the midday sun.

  “You do know your text scared the shit out of me.” He adds, regaining my attention.

  “Text?”

  I watch as he lifts his phone and starts to read.

  “Woke up hanging on the edge of death, I won’t be at the shop today but if something happens to me it's all yours. Make sure I look good at my funeral.”

  He looks back at me, arches his brow and purses his lips and it's then I realize he got a message that was not intended for him.

  “That should have been sent to Hannah,” I try to explain. “She would have gotten the charm.”

  “You call that charm?” He finally lets go of the stick up his ass look and leans over moving the hair from my face. “I showed up at the salon, and I think I terrified Hannah. She stood in the middle of the place holding a hair brush in one hand and some type of curling thing in another. We stared at each other then she finally broke and I was lucky it was just her there.”

  I can’t help but laugh imagining the entire thing.

  “I showed her the text, she calmed me down then offered me a spare key to come check on you myself.” I find it sweet how he rushed around just to see me.

  “I’m better now,” I shrug, finally feeling a little less like a football field full of drummers weren’t beating on my head. “Sorry to freak you out.”

  “That message was a bit dramatic.” He dares me to argue so of course I do.

  “You weren’t the one with the exploding headache,” I slide back, taking my blankets with me. “I could barely move, feeling like I was going to either get sick or force my loved ones to scrape my brains off the wall.”

  He chuckles, “That is quite the visual.”

  His smile forces mine to expand, because for the first time since I woke up he isn’t staring at me in a panic.

  “I need to shower and get into the salon.” I start to move, and he grabs for my hand.

  “Hannah has got it covered,” he assured me. His thumb lightly slides back and forth over my palm. “She said don’t worry about today it's a slow one and she’d already called your clients and got them all rescheduled or worked in.”