“Well, if you need anything I can help you with, let me know.”
“I read your latest book,” Hope said before she could stop herself, because she shouldn’t have snapped at him for being nice. “I really enjoyed it, although what’s with you letting that baddy Freefold live?”
Declan smiled.
“There’s always the second book in the series to kill him off in, Hope. Have a little faith.”
“Ha,” she managed. Faith in people had never been her strong suit.
Every muscle in Hope’s body clenched as she heard Mac call out Newman’s name. She looked for an escape route, but none was forthcoming.
CHAPTER TEN
Newman had several weaknesses, and he was at present entering the Roar to indulge in one of them. He would be leaving here with two bags of Gussie Neeps’ coconut fudge.
He loved food, but especially Gussie’s fudge. When he’d approached her about putting coconut in her fudge she’d pretty much told him where to stick his request, then two weeks later she’d handed him a batch. He’d been her slave ever since. It was their secret.
“You got money?”
Newman rolled his eyes at Mac. They did this every time he came in here. Mac made out he was Newman’s supplier, like he was some major drug seller.
“I do, you got the goods?” He played along.
“I do.”
“How many bags?”
“That bad?”
“Let’s put it this way, Mac. The business I’m trying to help doesn’t think they need it, and is run by idiots. I’ve spent weeks trying to make them see reason.”
“Has to be taxing on a person.”
“And then some.”
“Extrapolate, Newman.”
“Get you, with the big words,” Newman said as he studied the counter for anything he may need.
“I’m in a big word kind of mood today,” Mac said, then headed out the back of the store. Newman wandered, like he always did, and usually ended up with an armload of stuff he didn’t need, but had to have. He found Hope talking to Declan, and refused to acknowledge the little charge of pleasure that travelled through him as he looked at her. Even if she was dressed in the ugliest shirt he’d ever seen.
“You can’t be serious?” he said, now leaning on a set of shelves that held more fudge. The sweet, addictive scent had him reaching for a bag,
“About what?” She glared at him, eyebrows drawn together. Her hair was pulled back from her face. She wore a long T-shirt that came to her knees. It fell off one slender shoulder, which he was sure was not deliberate, as she kept yanking it back up. He doubted Hope had ever dressed to please anyone but herself. Commendable, Newman was sure, but as people had to look at her, he being one, she could at least work on her colors. It was a cross between army green and mud brown, and had the words The World Needs Help, Recycle, on it. Accompanying it were her black boots.
“That shirt.” He waved a hand at her. “It’s four sizes too big, and looks like something HRH’s dog left behind. Even for you, this is a bad look.”
“Newman.” Declan nodded his way, and his word had a caution in it that he ignored.
“You shut your mouth.” She pointed a finger at him. “I don’t have to dress to please you.”
“Well you certainly won that point.” He popped a piece of fudge in his mouth and hummed. “In fact, I doubt that ensemble would please anyone.”
Color flushed her face and he wondered if she had any idea how hot she actually was. Her beauty was in the wildness. The thick mane of hair and high cheekbones. The slashing dark brows and soft lips. He could only imagine what she’d look like if someone actually got hold of her and dressed her in something that didn’t hurt his eyes.
She turned to see where Declan now stood, and as it was to the back and slightly to the right of her, she held up a hand to shield the bird she flipped him. Newman laughed.
“Such a badass.”
