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    With His Touch: Hired Hearts Series, #2
    With His Touch: Hired Hearts Series, #2
    With His Touch: Hired Hearts Series, #2
    Ebook206 pages3 hours

    With His Touch: Hired Hearts Series, #2

    By Tressie Lockwood

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Cabrina Barnes has had to fight to survive. From as far back as she can remember her father and brother have been abusive and cruel. When her mother died, she fled the home where she grew up. She learned self-defense and carries a weapon for protection. While she won't let a man get too close, she dreams of something more. A real family feels like an impossible dream. Then she meets Jamie.

    Jamie Westgate feels a little jealous of his best friend. Keon has found love and a family, but Jamie is still alone. He's got money and success, but it means nothing without someone to share it with. From the first day he meets Cabrina, Jamie loves her.

    Everyone thinks Jamie's crazy, especially because Cabrina is clumsy, ignorant, and blunt as hell. The day they meet, Cabrina pulls a gun on him. He doesn't know if she's manipulating him or if she's truly as vulnerable as she seems. Regardless of Cabrina's motives, once Jamie rescues her from danger, he won't let her go—even if she fights him all the way to the altar.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTressie Lockwood
    Release dateNov 17, 2018
    ISBN9781386933465
    With His Touch: Hired Hearts Series, #2

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    • 4/5
      I liked it but got a little confused about the call she got at the end. Thought it was Marcell calling

    Book preview

    With His Touch - Tressie Lockwood

    Chapter One

    Cabrina scratched a spot on her arm and the slight pain there drew her gaze. When she spotted the bruise, her chest tightened. Her fingers curled into fists, prepared to fight. She caught herself before it went any further than that. The old life was in the past. It couldn’t touch her anymore. Unfortunately, her head was another matter.

    Where had she gotten this bruise? She tried to remember and failed. Her jobs were all over the place. Often, she came up with harebrained schemes for helping out another woman. Once she had climbed a barbed wire fence. Another time she ran from a dog intent on taking a chomp out of her hide. Both occasions ended with Cabrina bruised and battered.

    No, wait, those were both the same day—when that woman said her husband wasn’t home but he was.

    She winced at the memory of almost having her ass beat by another woman’s husband. Abuse was nothing new to Cabrina, but she hadn’t personally experienced it in years. She had no wish to go back to those days, but she couldn’t resist a pair of pain-filled eyes.

    She looked in the mirror into her own eyes many times and into her mom’s before she passed on. She knew that look—scared, suffering, hopeless. Even though it terrified her to come up against a man who was stronger and likely ruthless, she had done it time and again on another’s behalf.

    Cabrina, what are you doing? Didn’t you have your break?

    She startled from her reverie and glanced at her fellow waitress. For a minute, Cabrina couldn’t recall the name of the place she worked, but then it came back to her. Oh, yes, Jessie’s on the Border, and the city was… She bit her lip.

    I’m not doing anything. Just trying to remember what my customer wanted.

    Katie, a pain in Cabrina’s ass ever since she started at the restaurant, sighed noisily and eyeballed Cabrina. I thought you wrote everything down because you have a memory problem? Although I can’t imagine how. It’s not like you’re forty-five or whatever. The memory goes much later.

    Cabrina dug into her apron and pulled out the pad for taking orders. Her meticulous handwriting scrawled across the top page, but this wasn’t her customer’s order. What Cabrina had written was the cross street and the store name where her customer planned to meet her husband.

    That’s what I get for being nosy.

    She glanced at her customer and wondered if she should ask again what the woman wanted. The slender blonde looked like she had her life in order. She appeared to have money and seemed like she didn’t have a care in the world. Cabrina knew differently.

    Cabrina, are you listening? Katie moved into Cabrina’s line of sight. That was one thing Cabrina hated, people standing too close and blocking her view.

    Move, she said.

    Katie’s eyes widened. What?

    You heard me. Cabrina tried to keep her voice down, but sometimes it got away from her. The last time I checked, you weren’t my boss. Keep your nose out of my business.

    Katie swore. "It’s my business when you’re not taking care of your customers and they complain to me or ask me to bring them their food!"

    Move, Cabrina said again. She had no interest in whatever Katie was saying at that point.

    Ladies, is there a problem? Here was Jessie, sixty-something, single, and restaurant owner. Cabrina had almost skipped asking about a job here because Jessie sounded like a man’s name. She only ever worked for women, a difficult task. Sometimes she could get around her limitations by working for a gentle gay man or if there was a woman between her and the male big boss. Life was easier with small concessions for her crazy.

    No, there’s no problem. Cabrina had reached her limit. She elbowed Katie aside, and the other woman stumbled. She shrieked with offense.

    Did you see that, Jessie? Oh my God, I can’t work with her!

    Cabrina kept moving. Now she was headed toward the exit because she needed to get some space and air. Behind her Katie continued to complain in a loud voice while Jessie spoke quietly to her.

    At the front of the restaurant, Jessie had arranged some tables and chairs for customers to use. Hardly anyone used them that time of year because the weather had turned cool. Cabrina grabbed one of the chairs, pulled it back, and sat down. She shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

    I’m not getting my coffee, am I?

    Cabrina jumped at the voice and looked up. The blonde stood in front of her. Before Cabrina could say anything, she sat down on the opposite side of the table.

    Who are you? the woman asked.

    Cabrina blinked. I’m your waitress. Ma’am, I’m really sorry for forgetting what you wanted. I don’t usually forget something as simple as coffee. That’s all you wanted, right? I’ll get it now.

    As Cabrina began to rise, the woman extended her hand. No, don’t. I came out here because I finally got my courage up to ask you a question.

    Her words dumbfounded Cabrina.

    The woman’s hands were very red, although Cabrina couldn’t imagine why. She rubbed them together, clenched them into fists, and then flattened her palms on her dress. Maybe she was cold, but she wore a light jacket.

    I saw you write down what I said to my husband on the phone.

    Cabrina stuttered, I—uh—I—you see—

    I’m not mad. I’m just curious. Why do you care where I’m meeting my husband? You’re not thinking of robbing us, are you? Because we don’t have any money.

    Cabrina bristled with offense but let it go. The woman had bigger problems than Cabrina getting her feelings hurt because someone thought she was a thief. He’s beating you.

    Her customer’s jaw dropped. W-what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

    The woman began tugging on the sleeves of her jacket and straightening her dress. She reached a hand up to her face as if she expected to find sunglasses, but there were none. Her husband hadn’t hit her in the face lately. Cabrina had seen that too many times, women who thought their secret was safe behind dark glasses. No one was ever fooled, except the woman herself.

    I know the signs, Cabrina explained. You’re terrified of him. Maybe you tried to get away. He keeps finding you. Is that it? Or you keep going back when he apologizes?

    I—

    No, don’t. Cabrina stood. "I can help you to really get away. That’s if you’re done taking his excuses. While you pack, I can protect you as well. I don’t care how big he is or how much muscle he has. I have…ways."

    At that point, the woman stared. Cabrina gave the same or a similar speech to all the women she met who she was sure were being hurt by their significant others. Some took her up on her offer. Some didn’t. She tried as hard as she could to convince them.

    Y-You’ve done this before? the woman said.

    Relief washed over Cabrina. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small card where she had handwritten her number. "I’ve done it many times. I wrote down your information because I was going to go there and confirm if my suspicious were right before I said something to you. I like to be sure, but I’m always sure."

    Shame filled the watery eyes. She didn’t say anything, but she took the card. Cabrina hurried back into the restaurant because there was nothing else to be said. If she stuck around, she could raise the woman’s doubts. The woman might think she couldn’t deliver what she promised. Every time she helped someone else get free, it freed her a little more. It dissolved another chain around her heart.

    One day she might get fully free. Even though she hated most men and couldn’t trust them—not to mention they scared her—she dreamed of something more—a child maybe. But to have a child, she needed a man. The dream was an impossible one, but it filled her heart nonetheless. One day, she might be a regular woman just like everyone else.

    Chapter Two

    Jamie sat at his best friend’s dining table and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He took his time, pretending he wasn’t done yet. What he really did was observe Keon, Keon’s wife, and the kids. Jamie listened as Kye whined to be taken out of his high chair, tugging Keon’s sleeve and raising his arms to be picked up.

    Out, Daddy, Kye demanded.

    Keon offered a mock frown at his little son and pointed to his tray. You’re not finished your food.

    More whining. Jamie winced. He wasn’t used to the constant noise and yet, his loneliness grew exponentially when he came over to Keon’s house for dinner. Regardless of how he felt, he never skipped out on an invitation. This was his way of pretending he had a family of his own, that he wasn’t alone.

    The last woman Jamie dated seemed promising in her attitude and goals in life, but she couldn’t seem to move his heart. He admitted if only to himself that he wanted what Keon had. He wanted a woman who was so right as to seem like she was born for him and him for her. Was that too much to ask?

    Of course, he would admit none of these thoughts to Keon. He let Keon think he was content to date. For some reason, Keon and his wife Shakita were under the impression that it should be easy for Jamie to find a good wife. What, because he had money and a nice house? Because he was a decent person? Money and a house didn’t make the game of hearts any easier. He knew that first hand.

    Jamie!

    He looked at Shakita on the opposite side of the table. Her belly was round with their second child. Another spark of jealousy and then shame passed through Jamie. He pushed the awful thoughts away. Keon and Shakita had made him godfather to their son and promised to make him godfather to the coming baby. That should be enough.

    What? he said. Did you say something?

    She pursed her lips and shook her head. You better not be thinking about work. We haven’t seen you for weeks.

    No work. I promise. He grinned and held up his hands. My ears have gone numb because of the decibel level in your house.

    She narrowed her eyes and then laughed. You’re terrible. Kye, go round there and let Uncle Jamie wipe your hands.

    Shakita didn’t even have to look to see if Keon had caved to his son and let him out of the high chair without finishing his food. Neither did Jamie. He pushed his chair back, ready to rescue his pants in case Kye got messy fingers on the material. Kye didn’t materialize. Jamie looked over and found Keon already cleaning his son up with a dopey look of adoration on his face.

    Shakita and Jamie exchanged knowing looks. Keon spoiled his son, and the pretense with disciplining him was nonsense. Jamie didn’t blame his friend. He’d spoil his child too if he lost one previously.

    If I had a son…

    Jamie stood and gathered a dish from the table. Let me help you clear up, Shakita.

    You don’t have to do that.

    I insist.

    He followed her into the kitchen, watching as she waddled. Her ankles were thicker than he recalled, and her hair was a mess. She had never looked more beautiful.

    When he first met Shakita, he had considered seducing her, just to see what it would be like to take an African American woman to bed. Plus, she was attractive. All those curves appealed to him, despite how his usual lover was smaller. Shakita’s sassy mouth and attitude had sparked his interest. However, right from the start, he knew she would be perfect for Keon and that she would pull his best friend out of the dregs of despair.

    When they were alone in the kitchen, Shakita pointed to the counter. Just put those dishes there. I’m going to stack the dishwasher after I scrape and rinse them.

    I can do it. You must be exhausted. Why hasn’t Keon hired a maid for you, or a nanny?

    She snorted and rolled her eyes. Because I run this household.

    And you can’t have help?

    "I don’t work at the restaurant anymore. It hurt to let it go, but I decided my family is my job. Maybe down the line when the kids are older, I’ll get back out there. For now, this is me. No nanny. I’m raising Kye and my daughter. No one else. I might consider a maid to help after I have the baby but not yet."

    He nodded. I respect that.

    He began rinsing dishes while she put food away in the refrigerator. Halfway through the task, she paused to study him. And what about you, Jamie? When are you going to find a wife?

    We’ve discussed this. I’m happy as I am.

    Liar.

    His eyes widened.

    She waggled a finger at him. You think I don’t see how you look at Keon and Kye sometimes? And you get a little sharp when me and him get too lovey-dovey.

    I apologize. I never meant to be snippy with you.

    That’s not the point. You’re a sweet person, Jamie. A real nice guy. There should be hundreds of women lining up to be Mrs. Jamie Westgate.

    He concentrated on placing silverware in the dishwasher. They must have the wrong address.

    Jamie.

    He straightened and faced her with his practiced smile. Stop worrying about me, Shakita. I’m not ready to get married. Maybe when I’m forty-eight.

    She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Men. Always thinking about the bigger better deal. There’s got to be a more beautiful woman that’s better in bed. That’s it, right?"

    You haven’t learned to bite your tongue.

    Why should I? You’re our friend, and we care about you. But you’re pissing me off. You know that?

    He held up his hands in defense. I never meant to.

    Ugh!

    The kitchen door opened, and Keon walked in. Stop harassing him, Shakita. Let him live his life the way he wants.

    She rounded on her husband. You want him to settle down too, Keon, and you know it. You said yourself Jamie would stop traveling so much and hang around family more if he had one of his own.

    Shakita, Keon warned.

    Shakita, what? I can’t voice my opinion?

    Haven’t you repeatedly?

    Her countenance darkened. Excuse me?

    You ha—

    Whoa, both of you. Jamie stood between them. We’ve had a great dinner. Let me not ruin the night by causing you two to argue. Maybe I should get going anyway. I have some reports I need to go over before my meeting in the morning.

    Tomorrow is Saturday, Shakita growled.

    "I’m president of the

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