Hooked on You: An Annapolis Harbor Series Prequel, Lea Coll [love letters to the dead .txt] 📗

we’d almost kissed. I was sure he regretted it. He’d probably tell me it was a mistake and that he’d gotten caught up in the moment. I knew I had. Still, something told me this man didn’t get carried away, which made the moment more bittersweet.

I stepped out of the cab in front of his closed bar. I pulled out my phone to text him I was there, but suddenly he was striding toward me in worn low slung jeans, the ever-present T-shirt stretched tightly over his pecs and biceps, and black boots. “Hello,” I said softly, when he came to a stop in front of me.

“Good morning.”

My face heated at the memory of our almost-kiss. It had been several days since, but it was like the moment when we’d almost kissed hadn’t ended. I wanted to reach for him, tangle my fingers in the hair at his neck, and pull him down to me. Would his lips be soft, or hard and demanding? I really hoped he’d be hard and demanding. I wanted to feel alive. I just wanted to feel. I wanted to do something I’d never done before. I wanted to be impulsive.

I wanted to forget about my family obligations, even if it was only for a day. I knew without a doubt Gabe would be the perfect one-night stand. He had don’t call me afterward written all over him.

Then Gabe stepped back from me and the moment was over.

“I’m sorry about Friday night. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize.” For one of the single hottest moments in my life. I couldn’t even draw in a deep breath, between the humid air and the anticipation of his lips on mine. It was perfection—whether he kissed me or not.

“I shouldn’t have done that, when you work for me and I’m helping you.”

I never took my eyes from his. “I work for Isaac.”

“Still, it’s not right.” His eyes darkened and his muscles tensed.

“Do you ever do things that aren’t right?” It was like there was a live wire between us sparkling and crackling. I was baiting him. I wanted him to breach the distance and slam his lips down on mine.

“All the time—just not with someone like you. Someone who deserves better.”

I cocked my hip, resting my hand on it. “I decide what I deserve.”

“As tempting as you are, baby, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He shoved his hands in his pockets like he was restraining himself from touching me, or at least I hoped he was. His eyes, which were so open when he’d first approached me, were veiled.

When he called me baby instead of princess, warmth spread through my body, and I wanted him to want me as badly as I wanted him. Was that too much to ask? I nodded and looked away to hide the hurt I knew he’d see. I couldn’t let this guy get to me. I knew he’d back off and he didn’t disappoint.

“I’m sorry. I can’t go there with you.” His voice was full of regret.

I could have said all I wanted was one night, but I couldn’t take any more rejection today. He’d say I was too good for a one-night stand. Annoyed now, I said, “Can we get started?”

“Did you want coffee?”

“No. I had some.” I didn’t want to be around him any longer than I needed to. “Unless you did?”

He stared at me for a few seconds then said, “No.” He touched my elbow. “I can introduce you to Omar and you can ask any questions you have.”

We started walking along the sidewalk and Gabe pointed at a few storefronts that had Coming soon signs in the windows. “There are several businesses opening up soon. There’s a bookstore, a spice shop around the corner, a Voodoo shop, and a knick-knack store.”

Increased crime was an issue for new and struggling businesses. I slipped easily into work mode, pulling out a legal pad and pen.

“We have issues with crime, which could deter customers from coming here.” He pointed to the camera mounted above the door of the Omar’s. “We also have cameras that have helped some.”

“What crime are you seeing here?” Gabe stopped outside of Omar’s General Store.

“The usual. Breaking into cars searching for whatever spare change or anything they can find. We don’t see the pickpocketing that the French Quarter has but it’s still an issue. Omar can tell you more about the convenience store issues.” He gestured for me to precede him into the store.

There were a few people waiting in line so we stood off to the side waiting for the man I assumed to be Omar to have a minute to speak to us. He was a Hispanic man in his forties with black hair. He wore a Polo shirt and khakis. The store was narrow with a few long aisles of groceries and other necessities. When the stored cleared, the man turned to Gabe. “Hey, bar-man. What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to introduce you to Taylor Leeds. She’s an Assistant U.S. Attorney and she wants to help the neighborhood.”

“Nice to meet you,” Omar said.

“You too.” I shook his outstretched hand. “I wanted to check in to see what we can do for you, your business, the neighborhood.”

Omar shook his head. “Well, I’m not sure what you can do.”

“Let’s start with what crime you experience in your store,” I prompted.

“Shoplifting is my main issue. They don’t hide, they just snatch, grab, and run before I have a chance to call the cops.”

“Do you call the cops?” I asked.

“Honestly?” Omar asked, his eyes sweeping the store for any customers.

At my nod, he continued, “No. What would be the point? These guys are long gone before police show up. An officer might write a report that never gets investigated. They don’t care about shoplifters.”

“No, but shoplifting leads to other bigger crimes that they would care about.” Maybe I could do something about that. My office could speak to the local cops and emphasize the need to reduce