I had no idea he was here for his American debut, nor that he was one of the most successful rappers South Korean music had ever seen. If I had, I might not have been so frazzled when I found out and accidentally kidnapped him.
But then again...
Maybe that wouldn't have mattered anyway.
Chapter One
Harley
Body-to-body, Capri was packed tight, more like a mosh pit than a record store tonight. My feet hurt from the never ending shift and my fingers cramped from all the anti-theft removal off the store's CDs. The bulky plastic cases, instead of our previous measures of the standard magnetic strip, were very much Dom's idea, one of my employees. The cases kept the CDs in the store, but they sure were a bitch to take off.
I sucked the tip of my thumb, the lingering sting a not-so-pleasant reminder of my previous battle with one of the snap traps. I didn't have long to recover, before bagging my next customer's purchase. I grinned upon seeing a vinyl record in her hands, a good one too; The Stones.
"Have a nice day," I told her, happy when she said keep the change for the "share-a-penny, take-a-penny" jar. Sometimes that little thing came in handy for people. I had a kid once who saved up all year for a signed Jimi Hendrix's guitar pick. He was just a few dollars off. He scraped the bowl clean that day, but I couldn't think of a better cause.
Out of breath, Dominick leaned his bulky body against the back counter. He was six-foot-four inches of pure Puerto Rican muscle and had a rich copper tone to his skin that challenged the darkness of even mine. His chest heaved, large pecs rising and I tsked. All that and as always, simply wasted on the likes of me and Tess, my other employee. Oh, and Dom definitely loved to remind us of the loss. His daily use of muscle tees let us in on that. We could look all we wanted, but we couldn't touch. He didn't exactly swing that way, and after knowing him for so long, that became kind of all right. The kid was more like a brother to me now. He slid those big, brown eyes my way, fingers folded across his chest. "Still alive over there?"
Just damn barely.
I groaned, sliding my fingers into my hair. Tipping my head up, the big hand and the little hand of the clock across the store offered me sanctuary. The hour of hell was officially over. Gripping the counter, I made as if I was going to crawl onto it. "Don't mind me. I'm just going to climb up here and die now."
Dom chuckled, pulling at my bicep. I lowered myself to the floor and settled for resting my head on the counter coated with band stickers. My violet-tipped tresses fanned out and covered the lot and I no doubt had bags the size of saucers under my brown eyes, but I really didn't care how I looked in that moment. I was hella tired.
Dom's hands went to my shoulders. My saving grace.
"Question one," he pipped. "Where's Tess, and question two, can I have her room once you kick her out for not being here on our busiest day of the month?"
I had to smirk at him, turning my head to do so. "You wish, big boy. And I don't know. Doing something she simply had to do," I sing-songed, putting on my best Tess McGuffy voice.
His hands moved to the small of my back, catching skin exposed by my crop top. This was a very dangerous zone to tread for most men, but again, this was Dom. Thinking about the guy in any type of way like that was borderline incest. Again, he was like a brother. A scoff sounded behind me.
"When does Tess not have something she just has to do?" he asked.
"Well, she pretty much works for free so … " And he did too, which was why I gave them both so much slack. We had a bit of a bartering system going. Discounted rent at my apartment above the shop and discounted pay for my two sole employees. It was a win, win for all.
I pushed up, feeling Dom's large body back away while I got in front of the register to count some of the money down. He watched me for a few seconds, whistling behind his teeth. I assumed he did so at the sea of twenties and a few hundreds.
"These ‘free first listen' days really clean up," he said, nodding.
I banded a stack. "Yeah, but they'll send me to the poor house if we have to do as many as we do. We can't keep giving away free stuff all the time to stay ahead."
The free CD promotion drove the customers in since we launched it last year, another Dominick Garcia creation. We gave a free CD to any new customer from our "used" bin during a designated time. They usually bought something else, so the promotion had been a cash cow. But what started off as one day every few months turned into one every month. We always made out, but I worried we'd become too reliant on them. Some months we just made building rent because of it.
I'd just bumped the register closed with my hip when the store's chime sounded through the air. I fought myself from rolling my eyes, knowing we were getting ever so close to closing time and I needed to count down two more registers.
Dom gripped the counter to push off and I assumed help the new customer, but then he leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "This one is yours."
This kid's got jokes. I snorted before dampening my finger to riffle through more twenties. "Nice. Now, get your ass over there and help whoever."
Tan fingers removed the twenties and getting behind me, he pushed me off. "I said, this one is yours. I'll count this down."
"Dominick, seriously-?"
I adjusted, straightening up. I guess for a clear view over the counter and once I did, I had a hard time looking away. If Dom was what one called big and brawny, this guy who just came in the store was his direct male opposite, but not necessarily in a bad way.
He was soft where Dom was hard, but toned where Dom was too thick to show any type of definition, his black t-shirt making out every dip and curve of his biceps. And he was tall and lean. His body craned over the CD display like the Atlantic crashing over the shores just a few blocks down from my shop. One hand gripped the rack while the other riffled through the compact discs and a piece of jet black hair slid over intense dark eyes as he searched his way through the merchandise. We had quite a strong Asian population here in So-Cal, so I wasn't surprised to see him here. That's one of the things I enjoyed the most when I decided to take over the store: how diverse the area was. The music we carried explored the nooks and crannies of the music industry, and though we sold mainstream too, our diversity allowed us to appeal to many audiences. That element must have appealed to this guy too, seeing as how it brought him through my shop's doors.
The breath left my mouth in a small whoosh and a body warmed behind me, moving to my ear.
"Seriously, what?" Dom whispered, giving my back another push. "Now, don't come back until you smell him. I mean, thoroughly. And if you go so far as copping a feel? No judgment here, my friend."
I had no words to tell him off, studying how the guy moved his lengthy fingers through that dark hair. He had it shaved on the sides, the strands silky with a waxy shine. It flopped over his brow when he pulled his fingers back and I made myself ignore how it fell so subtly over one eye, brushing his black eyelashes.
Coming over to him, I rubbed suddenly too damp hands on my jean shorts. "Hey. Can I help you?"
Sharp cheekbones rose as he made eye contact with me. A bicep lifted, his arm pushing that hair out of his face and back. He had a tattoo dotting the underside of his arm, and my goodness, if I didn't forget to breathe.
His eyes smiled at me before his mouth did, but only by moments. He dropped his arm to his side.
"I hope so," he said, a distinct accent riveting from full pink lips. He was foreign, far east if I were to guess. He pushed that hair back again. "I'm looking for some music."
The simplicity in his statement had me smiling, as well as the obviousness of the request. He was in a record store.
I decided to be cheeky. "Hmm, well I guess it's a good thing you found your way in here."
A focused look passed over me from his direction that had my insides trying to figure out their next function.
Heart beat.
Brain think.
Swollen arms reached back as he pushed his hands into his back pockets. "I suppose so," he said, his teeth coming over his lip a little. He tipped his chin at me. "Can you help me out?"
I was quite sure I could. In fact, thoroughly confident. I grinned a little. "Possibly. It depends on what you're looking for."
For that, he seemed to have the exact answer. He turned, retrieving what he'd been looking at before I came over and took a step back after he handed it to me.
"Hip hop," he said, using the side of the rack to lean on. He dug a black boot into the carpet. "I'm pretty new to the area and had to leave the bulk of my collection back home."