Puck’s Property by Monique Moreau

ChapterFour

The instant the door closed behind the men, Ava slumped back in her chair. She expelled a pent-up breath and dropped her head back against her chair. Thankfully, once Puck was out of her presence, the pulsing pain in her temples began to recede. The audacity of that bastard. He’d always had a cocky swagger about him, even as a teenager. Ava could hardly believe the nonsense that spewed out of his mouth. Seriously, the man was delusional if he thought he had a chance of getting back with her, in any way, shape, or form. She glanced down at her dowdy pantsuit. Good God, why would he even want to? She looked like shit. Professional yes, but otherwise, she looked horrid. Of course, she purposely dressed in an unflattering manner. She wasn’t looking to get hit on by an inmate or another employee.

Time in the hole must have twisted his mind if he was entertaining the idea of being with her again. She hadn’t measured up the first time around, and the pain of that knowledge reared its ugly head yet again.

Despite his absurd declarations, seeing Puck left her rattled. Even now, her heartbeat was going fast. She’d managed to maintain a cool demeanor while in his presence, but her hands still trembled slightly. Puck was always so impulsive. Clearly, some things never changed.

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. Funny, she’d seamlessly transitioned into using his new name. It fit him. Mischievous. Mercurial. Clever, oh-so clever. And, she reminded herself sternly, never to be underestimated.

While it was crucial that he not be taken lightly, it was a waste of time to dwell on or overanalyze their conversation. First of all, she’d probably never see him again. She worked mostly with inmates who struggled with substance-abuse issues, and his drug test had come back squeaky clean. She wasn’t teaching the anger-management class, so if he stayed out of trouble, he wouldn’t be back. And Puck wasn’t risking another fight to sabotage his chances of getting back to Sammi.

Secondly, he was unpredictable. One moment, he supposedly wanted her. The next, who the hell knew. He’d flip-flopped before. No reason to imagine he wouldn’t do it again. Barely any time in her presence, and he was already pronouncing that he’d have her in his bed again. She rolled her eyes. Puh-leeze, what a flake.

The only one he was steadfast with was Sammi. Ava had always admired the way he took care of his little sister. Seeing what Puck had done when his mother died had inspired Ava. She’d made a conscious decision to separate the resentment she felt toward her father from Kat and had cultivated an independent relationship with her. It began even before Kat’s mother took off, leaving her father and Ava to finish raising her. And it’d paid off. She had a loving relationship with someone she adored.

Just because Puck was loyal and dedicated to his sister didn’t mean he was capable of that kind of consistency with a partner.

But seeing him had been a shock. Eight years on and the man had filled out from the nineteen-year-old boy she’d known. Filled. Out. Even wearing an orange jumpsuit a size too large, she’d noted the outline of his hard chest, tufts of chest hair peeking out from the V of his opened collar. Or his strong forearms, the cords of sleek muscles bulging as he’d laid his arms on her desk earlier.

And his face. Jesus, he was handsome, in that rugged way of his. It could wreck a woman’s resolve. Any woman besides me, that is. She’d experienced the lack of devotion that lay beneath that gorgeous olive skin of his. The image of him hovering so close to her, shimmered in her mind’s eye. His jet-black curls bouncing slightly as he moved his head. His deep chocolate-malt eyes staring at her, ringed by long black lashes. Hair and eyelashes like his were wasted on a man. Then there were his high cheekbones and that strong nose above a generous mouth. She knew exactly how those lips felt, pressed against her own, sliding down her throat or over the slope of her breast. Or even lower…

She sucked in a breath. Don’t go there. It’s the lack of sex that’s affecting you this way. She’d left the past behind after Sasha’s death. The drugs, the partying, and most definitely, the man. Losing her best friend so soon after their breakup had been a doozie.

There was a soft knock on her door. A knock she recognized.

“Come in,” she called out.

Derick popped his head in. “Busy?”

“Not at the moment. Come on in,” she invited him in with a wave of her hand.

Derick had showed interest in her, which she found surprising, considering how badly she dressed the three days a week she worked at the jail. Being the only social worker with a degree in Criminal Justice at the Agency, she’d been a shoe-in for the position. At five foot nine, she was tall for a woman, so she always appreciated height in a man, and Derick definitely had that. He was neither as fit nor drop-dead gorgeous like Puck, but she wasn’t looking for a random hookup. Not that she overthought her mild flirtation with Derick. It was simply nice to chat, lightly tease, and joke with a guy. That was it.

“On my fifteen-minute break,” he said, holding up the Styrofoam cup of coffee. He placed another one on her desk. “Here’s one for you. Cream and sugar, how you like it.”

He’d done that before, and she appreciated the gallantry of his gesture. Taking a sip, she smiled at him before placing the cup down. “I always feel the need for an extra coffee on Mondays. Thanks.”

Sitting down across from her, he crossed an ankle over his knee. Steadying the cup on his knee, he asked, “How’s the day going so far? No one giving you trouble, are they?”

Derick always started his conversations this way. Making sure no one was bothering her. “All good. A day like any other.”

“So…you knew the last guy?” he inquired in a careful tone.

“Yep,” she replied succinctly. No way was she going into her past with Puck. It had been bad enough seeing him. Seeing the way his eyes had lingered on her. It risked going to her head, rummaging inside, and rearranging it ways she could not permit. Could she even do her job correctly with him? Her chances were about as good as a roll of the dice. Hopefully, her professionalism wouldn’t be tested again.

At one time, she’d fallen hard for him. It had been deep and wild. Wild like the breaking waves, crashing against sharp, rugged cliffs. That’s where she’d end up if she wasn’t careful. Crushed against a jagged rock, left to bleed to death. Like before.

After a small lull, Derick asked, “First time you see someone you know?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Has it happened to you?”

“On occasion. Had my elementary school teacher in here once on a drunk-and-disorderly conduct charge. Explained a helluva lot about fifth grade.”

Ava let out a peal of laughter. “I bet it did. It’s a little shocking to see someone you know, but we’re working in the county jail, so it’s to be expected, I suppose. People from all walks of life pass through here.”

Derick brought his coffee cup to his lips and swallowed.

Another lull. Racking her brain to move on to a different subject, she asked, “Anything special go on out there today?”

Derick shifted his foot on the linoleum floor. “Nah, it’s quiet. Winter’s slower. Less arrests makes for less inmates. Less inmates makes for less work,” he replied in a singsong.

“True,” she replied, nodding. Derick may fall on the boring side of the spectrum, but he’d always been kind and respectful toward her. That was worthy of her esteem. Better than falling in love with a hot, charismatic mischief-maker who broke one’s heart.

Jiggling his foot a little, he pressed his lips together and then pushed them out in a silly raspberry sound. “Here goes nothing,” he mumbled. Taking in a deep inhalation, he lifted churning eyes to her and said, “Maybe you wanna go out and have dinner sometime?”

Ava blinked rapidly several times. They’d been taking breaks together for a couple of months, and he’d never gone further. Frankly, she’d given up on him, wondering if she’d misread his cues. What bad timing. If he’d only asked the day before… Sheesh, if he’d asked an hour before, she would’ve jumped at the opportunity. Damn Puck. His reappearance had pulled her up short. “Uhm…” she trailed off. What do I say? What do I do? Gah!

Jumping to his feet, he blurted out, “I sprung this on you. I get that. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s not that, Derick. I just…it’s just…” Dammit, she was stammering. The memory of Puck was too hot and new, like a match thrown on a powder keg of lust that’d been sitting in a corner, undisturbed for so long that she’d forgotten it existed. The bastard had fallen back into her life, completely unwelcome, and stirred up a hornet’s nest of emotions.

“Well, thanks for the chat. Nice break on the days you come here. I love my fellow officers, but sometimes we know too many details about one another. If I had to listen to one more story about Brian’s mother’s digestive problems, I’d have to use my gun on myself.”

Awkward. Ava chuckled self-consciously. Unsure how to respond, she followed his lead and pretended he hadn’t asked her out. “No worries. My door’s always open. If you’re going back on the clock, can you bring over the other guys who got into the fight with Mr. Rossi?”

“Sure thing,” he said. Lifting his coffee cup in a goodbye salute, he stepped out into the hallway. Just before closing the door, he cautioned, “Never a good thing to get sappy about someone we see in here. We gotta remember. They’re here for a reason,” and softly shut it behind him.

Smacking her hand on her forehead, she groaned loudly. She had to get her head on straight quick because she’d let a perfect opportunity pass her by. Hopefully, he wouldn’t avoid her, because next time he stopped by, she intended to ask him out.