Finding You by Daphne Elliot

9

DECLAN

It had been a long,weird week. Work had been frustrating, and I had been sleeping poorly. And something was up with Callum. We were so close, most days I could read him easily. But something had changed and I had to admit I was a bit worried about him. He wasn’t looking or acting like himself. Normally he was the open book in our relationship, but he wasn’t saying anything. I would have to team up with Liam to get to the bottom of this.

I got another text from my mom about Bumble. I honestly didn’t even know what it was, but I already hated the word. Bumble. It sounded like a fuck-up, like something went wrong. Like “I caught the pass and then bumbled.” Or “I drank too much at the holiday party and bumbled in the cab on the way home.” I didn’t care how many times Mom texted, there was no way I was joining that dumbass app. I didn’t want a girlfriend. And if at some point I did, I would go find one the old-fashioned way.

I needed to get out and clear my head. I decided to stop by The Lighthouse, one of Havenport’s fancier establishments, to grab a beer. Perched on a bluff halfway between my house and the downtown area, it was a tourist hub known for fine dining and incredible ocean views. I came here for two reasons. One, because my friend Eric bartended here and always took good care of me, and two, because it was not a place that many locals patronized. When I came here, I knew no one would bother me, and I could sit and watch the ocean or enjoy a bowl of their award winning lobster bisque. Tonight I brought a book and was planning to just zone out and unwind a bit before heading home.

I came in and took my usual seat at the corner of the bar. “Hey, man, what can I get you?” Eric had been a friend for a long time. His older brother Jimmy worked for me on one of my crews and was a really good guy. It was one of the things I liked about Havenport—knowing people and their families. No one was ever really a stranger. You would think a loner like me would prefer anonymity, but I didn’t. I liked that most people knew me. It took a lot of the pressure off to make small talk or put effort into interactions. But some nights, like tonight, I just wanted to be anonymous. Which was why I loved The Lighthouse.

“Can I grab a pint of the Helmsman Double IPA and a menu?” My younger brother, Liam, was a brewer. He opened Binnacle Brewery here in Havenport a few years ago, and I always ordered his beers when I was out to support him. The business had been up and down over the years, but he truly loved it. It was actually when his fiancée, Cece, came on board to handle marketing that the place really began to take off. As much as I would never admit it to his face, his beer was excellent and I was so proud of him every time I went out and saw his product stocked somewhere. I was born into fishing, and it was in my blood. He came by brewing naturally—it was just his passion, and I couldn’t help but feel proud of him.

The bar was relatively busy for a Thursday. Well-dressed folks were milling around, drinking and picking at appetizers. I was clicking through emails on my phone when I heard a familiar, husky voice. “No, thank you. I’m just enjoying my glass of wine alone tonight.”

I peered around the side of the L-shaped bar and spotted a familiar curtain of white-blonde hair. Astrid was standing at the end of the bar, looking like a total knockout in a black sheath dress and sky-high heels. Damn, she was beautiful. But there was more to it. Her attitude, the way she carried herself, was nothing short of badass. Nora was right, she definitely had a Charlize Theron vibe happening. She was tall, blonde, and looked like she could kick my ass and I would thank her later. Her posture and body language said “don’t mess with me,” yet some bumbling idiot was definitely trying to hit on her. Poor schmuck. If I knew one thing about Astrid, it was that she could probably eat this dumbass for breakfast. But there was no way I was going back to my book now. My interest was piqued.

I moved a few seats over on the bar so I would have a better view of her. And that guy would not take a hint. He kept crowding her and, at one point, grabbed her hand which she immediately pulled away. I instantly stood up to say something. Then I got a good look at his face. Asshole.

I pulled myself up to my full six feet three inches and strode over there like I owned the place. I smacked my pint glass on the oak bar top, spilling some beer in the process.

“Flint. What are you doing here?”

Marcus Flint, my nemesis, looked me up and down disdainfully. Yes, I wasn’t dressed up exactly. But I was wearing nice jeans and a vest over my plaid shirt. It was my meeting attire, and it worked for me. I wasn’t a suit and tie type of guy, and the people I did business with appreciated that.

We stood, facing each other like two moose about to battle over territory. I hated him with every cell in my body. He wasn’t wearing his uniform tonight, thank God, but was all decked out in a shiny suit. Probably trying to score with some tourists. He was such a scumbag.

“Why are you interrupting me, Quinn? Can’t you see I’m chatting with this lovely lady?” He waved his hand as if I should walk away.

I looked at Astrid, and she winked at me.

“Sweetie, what took you so long?” she whined. “I have been waiting for more than thirty minutes.”

I casually shoved Marcus aside, wedging my large body between them. I grabbed Astrid’s waist and leaned down and kissed her cheek. “So sorry, killer. I got held up at work. Please forgive me.” She nuzzled into my side, and I pulled her in closer. We fit together perfectly. She was warm and soft and smelled incredible.

She smiled up at me, and my entire body felt warm. For a minute I contemplated kissing her on the mouth, but I figured we had sold the ruse so far.

I looked up at Flint who looked confused. “Were you bothering my girl, Flint?”

He looked at Astrid and then at me, as if he could not believe that we were a couple. “Is there a problem?” I continued.

Astrid playfully patted my bicep. I flexed. I couldn’t help myself. “Oh sweetie, be kind. Mark here was just telling me how he is a police officer here in Havenport.”

Flint grimaced. “It’s Marcus.”

“Of course,” she deadpanned. “It was so lovely to meet you. But Declan promised me a romantic dinner tonight, so if you’ll excuse us.” She pinned him with a sharp glare as if to say “move along,” and he nodded and excused himself. He walked back to the other side of the bar, muttering and shaking his head. Objectively, I was attracted to Astrid. She was beautiful and interesting, but watching her effortlessly dispatch my mortal enemy gave me chills. This was the kind of woman I could fall in love with if I wasn’t careful.

She gave me a patented Astrid glare. “I had that situation under control. You did not have to rush over here like a raging bull.”

I kept my arm around her waist. “Sorry, Marcus Flint just makes me see red.”

She gave me a dramatic eye roll. “Thank you.”

I kept her close, not ready to take my hands off her body. “My pleasure. It’s not every day I get to save a damsel in distress and stick it to my mortal enemy in the process.”

“Mortal enemy? Tell me more!” She perched her chin on her fist, pretending to be fascinated.

I smiled, thinking everything she did was adorable. “He’s probably more of a nemesis really, but basically we’ve hated each other since grade school. I had a really bad stutter growing up, and Marcus Flint bullied me endlessly.” That was a bit of an oversimplification. I didn’t speak until I was three years old, and when I did, I had a vicious stutter. My parents sought out every specialist and program for me, but I battled with it well into my teens. Because of it I was always really quiet and barely spoke. I struggled in school and had a hard time making friends. I hated social situations and avoided them at all costs. Even with Callum by my side, I never felt comfortable. It took until high school for me to really overcome it, and still sometimes I slipped when I got nervous.

“Wow. What a dick,” she said, sneering in his direction.

“I know. And we’ve just always hated one another.”

“I find it shocking that anyone bullied you. Look at you.” A sly grin spread across her face. I didn’t know what she meant specifically, but I liked the way her eyes swept all over my body, as if she was impressed with me.

“I got bullied a lot, trust me. Just because I’m big and have two brothers doesn’t mean I’m immune. There were plenty of bullies and lots of fights.”

She nodded. “I went to an all-girls boarding school. Trust me, I know all about bullying and fights.”

That was intriguing. “Plus, Marcus Flint stole my prom date senior year.”

“What? How?”

“I had asked this girl, Julie Baranski, to prom.” It was a big deal. Asking her took a lot of courage and a lot of practicing with Callum to get it right and not stutter. I had crushed on her for years but never worked up the courage to talk to her. I dated in high school—plenty of girls went for the strong silent type—but she was my ultimate crush. I can remember how incredible I felt after she said yes. “Then Marcus Flint told her I had only asked her as a joke and was going to stand her up, so she agreed to go with him.”

“That asshole. And what a bitch. How could she think that about you? You are not that kind of guy.” She was fired up and I loved it. Some women, when they got mad, yelled and shouted and got shrill. Astrid was even cooler and eerily calm. She spoke in a low, monotone voice. “Does she live here? Can I pay her a visit and kick her ass?” She looked around the room like she would be here.

I laughed. “Stop. I’m over it. It was a long time ago.”

“I’m not over it. Let me at him.” She pretended to go after Marcus, and I grabbed her arm. I pulled her back toward me, and she placed her hand on my chest. Every cell of my body lit up with lust. I wanted those hands all over me.

“It’s fine. They actually ended up getting married.”

“Ugh. Of course they did. So why was he here hitting on me? Gross.”

“They are divorced now. She lives in New Hampshire with their two kids. Her mom and my mom still keep in touch.”

“That’s sad. And he sucks. If I had known what a douche he was, I would have sold the fake girlfriend way harder. I would have climbed in your lap and stroked your beard.”

Just the suggestion of her words made me squirm, and I hoped that these new jeans could hide the evidence of my attraction to her.

I had to change the subject. “So what are you doing here?”

She sighed and played with her hair. “I was actually supposed to meet a date here, but I got stood up.”

I couldn’t believe that. “Who, your boyfriend?”

“No. I don’t have a boyfriend. I had connected with a guy on a dating app, and we planned to meet here. He never showed.”

I thanked the gods of Tinder and Bumble and whateverthefuck the others were called that some dude was dumb enough to pass on this woman. I stared at her, mesmerized by her moss-green eyes, her high cheekbones, and her full, lush lips. I would probably jump off a bridge right now if she asked me to. How could any guy turn her down? “Do you want to grab something to eat while we are here?”

She smiled a true, genuine smile that lit up her whole face. “I’d love that.”