Sean's Sweetheart Read online

  She didn't even know who she was anymore. Caleb had taken that from her. The hopes she'd had for the future, her goals. He'd made her second-guess everything. When they'd started dating, she'd had a plan. Now her grades were in the toilet and she was in danger of getting kicked out of the nursing program. Who was Talia Richmond now? She sure as hell didn't know.

  She walked just out of reach of the slapping water, lost in thought. Where would her future lead her now? And how would she tell her parents about breaking up with Caleb? Her dad freaking loved Caleb. Not watching her step, she slipped in a puddle and sank a bit in the soft sand. She stopped for a moment to tug her shoe free.

  The tiny hairs at the back of Talia's neck prickled and the sensations of eyes on her made her skin crawl. Wrapping her arms tight around herself, Talia suppressed a shudder. When she looked up, she gulped as the profile of a man emerged from the shadowy darkness. The moonlight behind him emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. Hands in his pockets, he ambled up the beach toward her. Her breath caught in alarm and a shiver went down her spine. She glanced back at the group crowded around the bonfire. If she screamed, could anyone even hear her? The drumming of her heart seemed louder than the waves crashing against the sand. Her stomach lurched up into her throat as he neared. She couldn't breathe.

  Her heart rate slowed down when she recognized the big bartender. "Sean?"

  "Talia? What are you doing on the beach alone at two a.m.? You okay, sweetheart? Come on, let me take you home." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tried to steer her toward the parking lot. Always so protective.

  "I'm here with my brother. I drove myself, so I don't need a ride tonight." She didn't shrug away from his touch. In fact, she leaned in to him. He'd initiated the contact and she wasn't complaining.

  Damn, he smelled good. Leaning against him, a little bit of his warmth seeped into her chilled skin. She should have brought a sweater, but a sweater wouldn't warm her the way Sean's body heat would. As much as she'd tried to fight it this week, every ounce of the attraction she felt for Sean still lingered. More than lingered, it now blossomed with his touch.

  "Well, where is he? I want to make sure you're with him before I take off. I've invested a lot of time into protecting you lately." His smile said he teased, but an underlying tone lent seriousness to his words. Sean would make sure she was safe. She knew that as well as she knew her own name.

  Choosing to focus on the light-hearted comment, she slipped an arm under his open jacket and decided to flirt a little. She'd never be a temptress, but maybe some innocent flirting would boost her fragile self-esteem. Sean was safe. Like he said, he'd protected her. He would never hurt her. Some flirtation, knowing it would never lead anywhere, couldn't hurt. She needed this. The quiet protection, respect, and manners…

  Bumping her hip against his thigh, Talia laughed at his comments. "I'm not sure where Zane is at the moment, but he's around somewhere. He wouldn't have left me here without a word. He's not like Karly. You know, you're starting to make a habit of trying to rescue me."

  Chapter Eight

  Talia bumped in to him, teasingly, and an intense longing rose up within him. Crap. He thought he'd squashed that.

  When she shivered, he shrugged out of his jacket. He raised his arms to flip it over her and she shrank away. He clenched his fists at the look of fear on her face. It might just be worth going back to prison to rip that damn Caleb's arms off and shove them up his ass. How could anyone want to hurt her?

  "Sweetheart, you don't have to be afraid of me, remember?"

  She nodded and shivered again. This time when he raised his arms to wrap the warm leather jacket around her, he saw the steely determination in her green eyes. She was not going to flinch away from him again.

  Her brother seemed to have disappeared. Asking around, someone finally said he'd headed down the beach with his girlfriend. It figured. Can't say he'd have done much different if he'd come to a bonfire with his girl. But Talia looked like she didn't want to be alone.

  He should leave. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her. And fuck, he knew he couldn't have her. But damned if he could force himself to leave her on this beach alone.

  All the logs around the fire had been claimed, so he directed their steps down the beach a short distance to a large rock. Sinking down next to her, his denim-covered thigh brushed hers and he could feel the heat from her body through the layers of fabric. With their gazes focused out over the water, neither of them spoke for a moment. He stretched his legs out and waited for her to say something.

  She broke the silence without looking at him, "I broke up with Caleb today."

  "Good, he didn't deserve you. Never let a man, or anyone else, for that matter, treat you like that again."

  "So, what brings you out to the lakefront tonight?" Talia changed the subject and he let her. He'd rather poke his eyes out with a rusty screwdriver than keep talking about her ex.

  "Ah, rough night at the club. Couple of guys got into it over this girl in this tiny little dress. I had to break it up. Cops showed up."

  "That sounds fun," Talia responded dryly.

  "It's never a good night when the cops get called. I like to come down here; the sounds of the waves help me relax. It's either walk it off here or punch something some nights."

  "Walking is probably the better choice."

  Sean chuckled. "For sure. Punching stuff hurts sometimes."

  Talia laughed and nudged his knee with her own. When he glanced over at her, she smiled and ducked her head. She slid a little closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. He moved to put his arm around her and her muscles tensed. Slipping his arm around her waist, he drew her up against him. He shouldn't hold her like this. Already too attached to her, he needed to keep his distance. But a few minutes couldn't hurt, right?

  He was just making sure she wasn't cold. That was it. "You warm enough?"

  "Mmmhmm," she murmured. She relaxed into his side and brought her hand up to rest on his chest. He ached for her to slide that little hand inside his shirt like she did the night they met.

  She brought her gaze up to meet his in the flickering light of the fire. "Sean, I have to ask…"

  He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, and he groaned. Her soft curves pressed against his side when she shifted against him. She tugged at his neck, pulling his head down toward her. Even a saint couldn't resist her when that little tongue darted out, licking her lips in anticipation.

  And he was no saint.

  One kiss wouldn't hurt…

  "Talia?" a man's voice called from a few feet away.

  Fuck.

  She jerked back from his touch like he'd thrown her in the bonfire. A couple stood staring at them—and the concern on the man's face made him think this was the missing brother.

  He rose up and introduced himself.

  "I ran into Talia down on the beach. Make sure she gets home safely, will ya?" He told Zane as they shook hands.

  "Uh, yeah. Talia, you okay?"

  "I'm perfect. Sean is determined to become my knight in shining armor, lately."

  He snorted, shaking his head. "I'm no knight." He gave her a shy smile. No one had ever called him a knight before. And fuck if he was shining, more like tarnished beyond redemption. "I'm just a sucker for a damsel in distress, I guess. You take care, sweetheart."

  He wanted to kiss her goodbye, but the moment had been broken. His common sense wouldn't let that happen now. So he stuffed his hands in his pockets, said his goodbyes, and walked away.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun shone high in the sky, brightening the room when Talia woke the next day. She stretched and had to stifle a cry when she moved her aching, stiff arms. Purplish and black marks shaped like a man's hands marred the pale skin of both her upper arms. Adrenaline had run high yesterday; that must have been why she hadn't realized Caleb held her so tight he'd left marks. The jerk would leave he
r with one last remembrance of their relationship. Asshole. A long shower helped to loosen up her sore muscles, but nothing would take away those bruises but time.

  Checking the weather report, she groaned when she saw that it was supposed to be the warmest day so far this year. Bruises were much easier to cover in the winter. She'd had a lot of practice with it over the last few months.

  She stood in front of her closet, wrapped in a towel trying to choose an outfit, when her mom walked into her room. Her mother gasped as she caught sight of the bruises and began to yell for her dad. "Sam! Sam! Get up here now!"

  "Mom, can I get dressed? Please! Dad doesn't need to see me in just a towel!" Talia squealed as she tightened her hold on her towel to keep it closed.

  "Helen? Talia? What's wrong? What's going on?" her dad shouted, running into the room.

  "Look at the bruises on Talia's arms! Those are handprints." Helen seized her husband's arm with one hand as he ran in and used the other to point a well-manicured finger at the bruises on Talia's biceps.

  Her dad stepped closer and rotated Talia's arms so he could see the entire bruises. When he spoke, his angry tone demanded answers. "Care to explain to me how you got these bruises?"

  Talia jerked away from him. Her heart rate ticked up and her dad didn't even notice he'd scared her. She got a grip on her fear—and her towel—and spilled the events of the previous day. Her voice shook so much her mom came over and pulled her into a big hug.

  Her dad's eyes zeroed in on the brown jacket lying across the end of her bed. Picking it up and holding it out so that he could judge size, he snarled out a question. "This jacket is huge. Who does it belong to? Was it the guy who left those marks on your arms?"

  "No, Dad! It belongs to a friend. I told you Caleb caused the bruises!"

  "You don't have any friends big enough to fill this out. This is a man's jacket, not a boy's. I'm going to ask you again, who does it belong to?"

  "I just told you, a friend. Well, more of an acquaintance than friend. I met him last week. He's a bartender at Garden, you know, the club downtown. His name is Sean. He gave me a ride home a couple times. No big deal, Dad. Why is that what you're so concerned about?"

  "A bartender! No. Absolutely not! Get dressed. We are taking this back. Twenty-one or not, I don't want my daughter gallivanting around with a damn bartender. Today will end your friendship, acquaintance, whatever you choose to call it, with this guy." Her dad huffed as he stomped out of her room, anger rolling off the middle-aged man in waves.

  "Mom, what just happened? Why is Daddy being so unreasonable about this? I'm a grown woman—old enough to choose my own friends." Talia gaped and looked over at her mother in confusion. Her dad never acted like this.

  "I have no idea, honey. Get dressed and go with him. You know your father still sees you as his little girl. I suppose he has something against big guys and bartenders."

  "Why does Sean's size or job matter? Daddy's never seemed to care what my friends did for a living before. He's fine with Claire coming over, and you know she was a stripper for a while."

  "He's not going to relax until you cooperate and he gets to blow off a little of that head of steam he has built up. You know how he gets." Helen gave Talia a gentle hug before nudging her toward the closet. "Best to get dressed before he convinces himself that your friend did more than bruise your arms, honey."

  Talia chose jeans and a soft shirt with loose sleeves. She dreaded her dad and Sean meeting today. She didn't want to stall and give her dad time to work himself up more, so she headed downstairs. Her hands shook though.

  Talia's dad fumed the entire ride to the club. He gripped the steering wheel of the truck so tight he was lucky it didn't snap right off. She tried to initiate a conversation, but his clipped responses shut her up. Sean's jacket lay in her lap and she rubbed her hands over the soft leather in an attempt to calm her nerves.

  Sean already considered her too young. Her dad yelling at him over nothing more than an item of clothing would only confirm that for him. Last night, it had seemed like Sean was coming around, despite the age gap. There was no way this wasn't going to permanently ruin any chance she had with him. She sighed. Maybe someday her dad would realize that she was an adult.

  Swinging into the parking lot at Garden, her dad jerked the truck to a stop next to a black coupe. Sean's car. The only car parked in front of the older brick building. Talia stepped reluctantly out of the truck. Her dad grabbed her firmly by the wrist, pulling her along with him to the door. Tears filled her eyes before they even got to the building. She did not want to walk through those doors with her dad on a rampage over nothing. Hadn't her family embarrassed her enough in front of Sean?

  The club didn't open for several hours yet, but when her dad shoved at the door, it opened. He stomped inside with Talia trailing after him.

  Sean was pulling chairs off the tables toward the back. He yelled out, "We aren't open yet," before turning to look their direction. When he recognized her, Sean flipped the chair in his hands down to the freshly mopped floor and walked over their way.

  "Hey Talia, what are you doing here?" Confusion lingered in his eyes, but Sean smiled down at her. He had such a nice smile. Too bad her dad was about to wipe it right off his handsome face.

  "You must be Sean," her dad snapped. Her dad's posture stiffened further and his eyes narrowed as he took in the tattoo sleeves on Sean's muscular arms.

  Sean nodded in confirmation, his hands reaching for the jacket Talia held out to him. "You could have kept this. I hadn't missed it."

  Chapter Ten

  Black and purple bruises peeked out from beneath Talia's shirt and drew Sean's attention. He reached out and pushed the bottom of her sleeve up. His breath rushed out in a jagged exhale when he saw the finger marks. "Shit, are those from yesterday?"

  Her dad barked at him, "Yes, they're from yesterday. Did you leave those bruises on my little girl's arms?" Hands clenched at his sides, a glare on his face, her dad looked pissed. He'd come looking for a fight, that much was clear.

  "Daddy! I already told you what happened." Talia's cheeks colored and she glared at her father, clearly embarrassed.

  "And I want to hear it from him how you came home in his jacket with a man's handprints on your arms." The older man's words growled out between gritted teeth. He didn't look at his daughter. Oh, no, he reserved that death glare for Sean.

  "No, sir, I did not do that. I'd never hurt Talia, or any woman, like that." Sean sighed. Crap, just what he wanted to start his day with, an overprotective father on the warpath. He'd be the same way if he ever had a daughter come home bruised and battered, but damn.

  "I'm not sure of the details on how she got the bruises. I came across her at the beach last night. The wind had her shivering, so I gave her my jacket. We sat and talked until Zane came over. That's it." Sean kept his voice calm and low as he spoke to Talia's father. He needed to defuse the bomb in front of him. The last thing he needed was for the older man to come at him swinging. He'd spent the last five years cleaning up his act; he wasn't going to jail for fighting over a girl he hadn't even kissed. Reaching slowly for the beautiful redhead, he ran a gentle hand up her arm and lay it next to the bruise. Talia shivered and it sure as shit wasn't from cold.

  "Look, my hands are much bigger than these bruises. If I'd been the one to hurt Talia, the bruises would cover her entire arm."

  When the truth of his statements sank in, the older man deflated the slightest bit. It didn't last long, though. "You are still not to hang around my daughter anymore. How old are you anyway? Too old to be panting after a twenty-one-year-old girl, that's for damn sure!"

  "I'm twenty-nine, sir. And I've never even asked for her number." He doubted he kept the annoyance from showing on his face. Shit, her dad treats me like I'm the abusive jerk who hurt her. And Talia was twenty-one, not twelve. She could hang around with whomever the fuck she pleased. Him, or a whole damn biker gang if that's what she wanted. He had to bite his ton
gue to keep from unleashing a sharp reply.

  "Well, keep your distance!" the older man snarled before he stomped out of the club.

  "I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't know he'd blame you for the bruises on my arms. I explained what happened but, well, you can see he didn't listen. He freaked over my arms. I'm so sorry. Thanks again for last night," Talia murmured. Her beet-red face and downcast eyes tugged at his heart as she whispered, "Bye."

  Grabbing her hand, he kept her from running out the door behind her dad. He flinched and let go when fear flashed in her eyes. "Talia, how bad did Caleb hurt you? Does your dad not know what he was like?"

  "No, he pretty much skipped over that fact and flipped out about you being a big guy and a bartender instead. The fact that Caleb hurt me didn't faze him. I don't know what his deal is. But I need to go before he comes back in with a shotgun or something. Bye."

  Sean stared at the door as Talia walked out of his club, and hoped she wasn't walking out of his life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Moving into the Downward Dog position, Talia's gaze drifted out toward the main area of the gym. She tuned out the yoga instructor and missed moving into the next pose when her eyes landed on a familiar face in the weight area. Her first glimpse of Sean since that incident with her dad had to be when sweat poured down her face and pink yoga pants clung to her damp thighs. Of course.

  A sheen of sweat glistened off him. The muscles in his chest and arms bulged as he lifted the weights. Talia couldn't look away. She licked her lips and watched him, completely ignoring her instructor and class moving on without her. Her class wasn't hot yoga, but Sean sure turned up her heat.