Page 25 of It’s Only Love (Citrus Pines #1)

Just when I was beginning to think he was a decent guy he turns back into King of all Assholes , Christy thought bitterly.

She was so stupid, how could she have let things go so far?

Well, that was easy to answer, it had felt so damn good.

Her body still hummed with satisfaction even now.

His kisses had been drugging, his touch was to die for and the way he looked at her?

She felt genuinely desirable for the first time in her life, and it was an intoxicating feeling.

However, all of that had been snatched away immediately.

After their encounter she’d needed a moment to put herself back together, she had been vulnerable.

The gentle, tender kiss he gave her afterward had shaken her, even now thinking of it she felt a strange pang in her chest she didn’t want to think about too closely.

It was all an illusion, because when he came back with paper towels, he was surly and distant.

He refused to look at her and then kicked her out.

Showing her out onto the forecourt of the garage and telling her he would drop her car by later before heading back into his office, and slamming the door shut so hard the glass panes rattled.

What a fool she was to have trusted him.

“Asshole,” she muttered again. Sadness hit her, tears threatening to fill her eyes.

She blinked them back, refusing to cry because of him.

Again. What had she expected though? Why did she go along with it?

He clearly pegged her as an easy mark just like Alfie had and he was right.

And she had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

This was exactly the reason she swore off men, she couldn’t trust any of them and she only had herself to blame.

Christy walked through the town, looking for Justine’s office.

It wasn’t hard to find, being on Main Street, and as she went inside, she was instantly cooled by the blast of air conditioning.

The main door led straight into the reception area.

Christy gazed around, taking in the fancy leather chairs, and tall, leafy plants.

There was a coffee table full of magazines and a TV in the corner playing a daytime soap with the volume down low.

She had never seen Justine’s place of work, the small practice her friend had built from the ground up and she was so proud seeing what Justine had accomplished.

She was greeted by a smartly dressed woman sitting behind a neat desk. This must be Hilda, Justine’s secretary. Christy had heard a lot about her over the year. Justine often said she would be lost without her.

“Can I help you, dear?” Hilda asked with a gentle smile.

“Is Justine free? ”

“She’s with a client at the moment, she’ll be done in about half an hour if you would like to wait?”

“Is she free for the rest of the afternoon?”

Hilda scanned the screen of her sleek-looking computer. “Looks like it, would you like to make an appointment?”

“No, thank you, I’m a friend. Is it possible to leave a note for her?”

Hilda nodded and passed Christy a notepad and pen.

Christy scribbled that she would be at The Rusty Bucket Inn and asked Justine to swing by when she was finished so they could have lunch.

She said goodbye and left the office, the stifling heat hitting her in the face as soon as she left the building.

She started walking to the bar, knowing it would be difficult in the heat, but there would be huge pine trees to walk under for shade.

As she walked, her thoughts inevitably turned towards her encounter with Dean.

She couldn’t get the way he looked out of her mind.

Lips swollen from their kisses, eyes wild with passion and expression lit with pleasure.

He’d given her the first orgasm she had that hadn’t come from herself.

It had been so intense, so consuming that her body clenched at the reminder.

Christy shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind and instead decided to focus on something different.

She thought about her writing and how her block wasn’t going to fix itself.

She needed to crack it soon, or she would go crazy.

She was on book four of her detective series and wasn’t sure how to deal with the fallout from the end of book three.

Her pen had gotten away from her, and she had killed off the main character’s love interest in a bold move that she now regretted.

Her readers were not happy with her. As she tried to brainstorm ways to get around it, aside from a sudden resurrection, she noticed a car pull up alongside her.

The window rolled down and Justine smiled at her.

“Get in, it’s too hot for walking!”

Christy climbed into the car, grateful to be out of the sun and distracted from her thoughts. They chatted as Justine drove and just a few minutes later they pulled up outside the bar.

“Hello, my loves,” Taylor called as they went inside. “Welcome to Heaven!”

“Now I know why you never leave this place, it’s so cool,” Justine muttered as she slipped onto a bar stool.

“I saved up for two years to get air conditioning installed here and it’s already paying for itself, customers are crowding in just to get out of the heat,” Taylor said proudly.

Christy looked around and, for a weekday lunchtime, it was very busy.

“You should wear cooler clothes, Justine,” Taylor admonished, gesturing to Justine’s orange knit dress and then down to her own short shorts and strapless top.

“If I dressed like you then my clients wouldn’t be able to focus on their problems,” Justine shot back.

“My, my, someone thinks highly of themselves,” Taylor sniped at her, but there was humor in her eyes.

You had to be blind not to notice how stunning Justine was and she’d be silly to pretend otherwise. As Christy listened to their back and forth, she felt herself relax for the first time all day. Well, second time if you count immediately after Dean made her co–

“Christy, is that beard burn on your cheek?” Justine asked slyly.

Christy immediately blushed and shifted uncomfortably on her tiny bar stool as Taylor eyed her closely. “Don’t be ridiculous! It’s clearly heat rash. I’m not used to this warmer climate yet,” she replied, but Justine didn’t take the hint.

“I thought you and Beau had called it quits?”

“Then who gave you that?” Taylor said, still staring intensely.

“Guys, it’s not beard burn, okay? It’s heat rash!” Christy cried.

Taylor’s gaze continued to bore into her like she knew exactly whose beard had burned her.

“If you say so,” Justine sang, shrugging her shoulders. “So, how’s the house coming on?”

“It’s great! Beau and Dean have been great with helping out,” Christy replied, grateful for the subject change.

Taylor turned away to get them some drinks.

“Mmm, all those muscles rippling and bodies getting sweaty. Is it hard having Beau around?” Justine asked.

Christy shook her head. “No, we agreed that we’re better off as friends. There was no sexual chemistry, but we get on so well that we wanted to keep hanging out.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I maybe asked him out?” Justine asked her sheepishly.

Taylor dropped a glass and it shattered all over the floor.

“Fuck!” she hissed, and a round of cheers echoed around the bar from the other patrons.

She stepped lightly around the shards and reached for the broom that was propped at the end of the bar.

She stumbled and promptly knocked it on the floor, rolling her eyes as she bent to pick it up.

“Jesus, someone’s clumsy today,” Christy teased.

“Yeah, you gonna chew yourself out like you would if Kayleigh had broken that glass?” Justine joked.

Taylor flipped them both off and started sweeping .

“Excuse me ladies, can you tell me who the owner of this bar is?” asked a deep voice from behind them.

Christy turned to see a tall well-built man standing behind her and Justine. He removed his sunglasses to reveal a pair of slate gray eyes with thick dark lashes fanning out from them. He ran his hand through his dark wavy curls that needed a trim.

He. Was. Gorgeous.

Permanent frown lines etched across his forehead and a slight furrow in his brows gave him a haughty but brooding expression.

His cheekbones were set high, his square jaw covered in dark hair, which was neatly groomed and outlined his flat unsmiling mouth.

His black t-shirt was tucked into black jeans which was insane in this heat, but he didn’t look like he was struggling at all.

His bicep flexed as he tucked his sunglasses in the pocket of his t-shirt, and Christy noted he clearly worked out.

He oozed seriousness in spades which did not bode well for dealing with Taylor, but to Christy’s surprise, she behaved herself.

“Hey, gorgeous, I’m Taylor,” she said, smiling at him.

Tall, dark and broody gave her a quick once over before turning his attention to look around the bar. “Do you own this establishment?” he asked.

“Establishment makes it sound much fancier than it is but yeah, well I own half of it anyway. Who wants to know?” Taylor put her hand on her hip and raised a delicate eyebrow at him.

He continued to survey the bar with such scrutiny that Christy got the vibe he catalogued every detail he saw. He knew how many people were in here, where the nearest exits were, and what could be used as a weapon if needed. Who the hell was he?

“I’m the new deputy sheriff of Citrus Pines, Blake Miller.”

Christy noticed Justine stiffen next to her and she watched as Justine turned on her barstool to face away from them.

Taylor cursed quietly. “Great, did Dean send you to check on me? I swear that man sometimes…” she trailed off, coming out from behind the bar.

Christy frowned. “Why would Dean send him to check on you? What’s going on?”

“No one sent me. I’m going to be starting soon and just wanted to familiarize myself with the town and become friendly with the local business owners, get to know them,” Blake said with no hint of a smile or friendliness.

“This is you being friendly?” Taylor asked doubtfully.

“Obviously,” Blake deadpanned, and Christy fought a smile. “I’ve not spoken to Dean but is there a reason he would ask me to check on you?”

“Excuse me,” Justine muttered quietly, she slipped off her barstool and headed towards the restrooms.

Taylor sighed. “Look, I don’t wanna make a big deal out of anything, but I have a teeny, tiny problem with an ex of mine. Nothing’s happened yet. Dale just shows up, mouths off and tries to intimidate me, that’s all.” She shrugged like it was nothing.

“What the hell, Taylor! How come you never said anything? This is serious!” Christy cried, worry clouding her expression.

“This ex of yours, has he been violent in the past?” Blake asked, ignoring Christy and fixing Taylor with a hard stare.

“Um, I don’t know. Not to me he hasn’t, but I think he could get that way.”

“Okay. And who’s Dean? ”

“He’s my brother, if you’re going around meeting everyone, you’ll get to him. He owns the garage in town,” Taylor replied, a note of pride in her tone.

Christy reeled. Wait, what? Dean owned the garage?

Blake pulled out a small notebook and a pen from his back jeans pocket and took a few details down from Taylor on her ex.

“Well, I don’t officially start until next month, but I’m in the area if you need me. In the meantime, stay safe and call me if you have any more trouble,” Blake said, tearing off a bit of paper and giving it to Taylor.

She took it from him and looked at it before thanking him. The corners of Blake’s mouth twitched upwards in what Christy thought might have been an attempt at a smile, but it disappeared immediately. He put his sunglasses back on, nodded at Christy and turned around, leaving the bar.

“He seems…nice,” Christy said, staring after him.

Taylor nodded, then when he was out of sight, she finished sweeping up the glass and put it in the trash. Justine reappeared and sat back on her stool, sipping her drink.

“He was gorgeous, all serious and broody. Did you check out his ass? That man is thicc!” Taylor said saucily.

“What did you think, Justine? I’m surprised you weren’t all over him,” Christy joked, nudging Justine.

“Nope, not my type, sorry,” Justine replied, and sipped her drink some more.

“Are you serious?” Taylor asked loudly, her jaw dropping.

Christy remembered something. “Wait, did you say Dean owns the garage?” she interrupted.

“Uh huh, he owns the chain of them. Hello? Iris Motors? Iris is his mom’s name.

Think there’s about eight of them now across the state.

He bought the first one for a steal, then he made enough profit to buy the second and so on.

He’s the one who lent me the money to buy my share of the bar.

He’s also one of the investors in Beau’s Bodies ,” she said the last part sarcastically.

Christy couldn’t believe it. “But how?” she spluttered.

“He’s a hella smart businessman and he’s got a great eye for profitable investments. I couldn’t have done this without him.” Taylor turned away to put the broom back.

Christy was shocked. She kept discovering more sides to Dean.

He was clearly smart, trusting, and seriously cared about his friends to help them out in such a way.

But she was confused because if Dean wanted to keep her away from Beau because he thought she wanted his money, why use himself as bait?

It didn’t make sense . Unless he knew he wasn’t really ever going to fall for me so there was no real concern I would get near his money ?

He had said that he didn’t think she was a gold-digger, but she didn’t believe him.

The thought of him believing she was sent a lance of hurt through her.

But she couldn’t blame him for being suspicious of her. She didn’t trust anyone either.