Chapter Five
“Thank you for coming, officers,” Chet said as she escorted the two uniformed men to her front door. “I appreciate it.”
“No worries, ma’am,” the taller one responded. “We’ll take a few photos of your car before we leave. You can call your insurance company in the morning and give them the report number I gave you.” He’d given her his department business card with the information on it.
“Thank you, I will. Have a good night.” She closed the door behind them, then walked back into her kitchen where Tuff was still drinking a cup of decaf coffee she’d made while waiting for the police. He was doing something on his laptop, which he’d brought over from his place so he could show the officers the video from his security system. While he’d been grabbing that, Chet had taken a few moments to run into her bedroom and change out of her thin nightshirt, replacing it with a sports bra, a T-shirt, and sweatpants.
With the police gone, Chet was torn between wanting Tuff to leave or stay. For now, she went with the latter, especially since he’d done something really sweet. Meat was currently laying down just over the dining room threshold, gnawing on a huge bone Tuff had brought him before the police had arrived. Tuff had sat quietly on the kitchen floor, crossed his ankles, and held the tasty treat out to the dog. At first, Meat had hesitated, but it wasn’t long before the temptation had drawn him closer. Tuff’s gaze had been focused on his lap, so he didn’t appear to be challenging the canine. After a few moments of soft whining and dancing from side to side, Meat had stretched his neck out and gently taken the proffered bone. Then, surprising both humans, the dog had plopped down about a foot away from Tuff and enjoyed his treat. That was until the doorbell had sounded. Once Chet had the barking Meat under control again, Tuff had gotten to his feet and let the cops in. The dog then retreated under the dining room table, where Chet had followed and given him the bone once more. After realizing the uniformed men were remaining in the kitchen, Meat had finally relaxed and had even moved out from under the table.
Picking up her own empty cup, Chet stepped over to the coffeepot and refilled it. Leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the dark brew, she studied her neighbor. Why did the man have to be so damn sexy? She would’ve settled for him just being a nice guy, but add in his muscular physique, gorgeous ink, and handsome face, Chet knew she was in trouble. She’d been having erotic dreams about him all week. Of course it didn’t help that it’d been over a year since she’d had sex. Billy-Bob, her vibrator, just wasn’t satisfying her enough lately. Maybe that was why she got all tingly whenever Tuff was around. Aside from some teasing and mild flirting, though, he hadn’t given her any indication he was interested in her other than as a friend and neighbor, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
“Are you okay?”
His words penetrated Chet’s brain, and she realized she was staring at him. Pushing of the counter, she sat across the table from him. “I’m mad, nervous, and bewildered, all wrapped up in one tired package, but yeah, I’ll be okay. I just can’t figure out why I was targeted.”
Tuff shrugged those sculpted shoulders of his, the black T-shirt he wore doing nothing to hide their contours. “Could be something as obscure as you cut someone off while driving or some guy with a secret crush who you inadvertently snubbed. Or . . . it could be someone you know all too well.” He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. His tone was gentle when he said, “Tell me about your ex-husband, Chet. Why do you have an OP against him? And don’t tell me it doesn’t matter because you don’t think it’s him. Security and protection are what I do, and I can’t help you if I don’t know everything.”
When they’d arrived, the police officers had already known about the order of protection. Apparently, it popped up on their car computer because it was associated with her address. She hadn’t needed to go into detail about it, but she’d told them she didn’t think Roland would do something so petty. He preferred to use his fist, a fact she’d found out only two months after their wedding, following a six-month courtship. Chet had always said she would never be one of those women who’d stick around after a man had hit them, but she’d fallen into the trap she now knew all about. The one where he would apologize and treat her like gold for a while, until the next time he flew off the handle. While many women never managed to escape the cycle, Chet had decided after the third time Roland had hit her that there wouldn’t be a fourth. Thankfully, she had some friends who’d helped her move out one day while he’d been at work. The very next day, her husband had been served with divorce papers and the order of protection her lawyer had requested on her behalf. There’d been several times Roland had called her since then, despite the OP, trying to convince her to come back to him, but she’d refused to answer his calls, sending them straight to voicemail. The one and only time he’d come knocking, after finding out where she’d been living with a friend a few months ago, she’d met him at the door with one of her rescued pit bulls and her gun. When she didn’t back down, he finally realized she was serious and there was no way in hell she’d forgive and forget. He hadn’t contacted her since.
Biting her upper lip, Chet hesitated. She was ashamed she’d stayed with her ex after the first time he’d hit her, but something about Tuff had her opening her mouth and spilling her guts. “I was married to Roland Stratford.”
His eyes narrowed. “As in the mayor of St. Petersburg’s brother?”
“Yup, that would be him.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Looking back, I knew we were rushing into things. I’m embarrassed to admit I got swept up in the wining and dining and the fancy parties. We’d only been dating a few months when he proposed, and, like a fool, I said yes.”
Reaching across the table, Tuff laid his hand over hers. “The last thing I’d call you is a fool, Chet. People make mistakes all the time, it’s a part of life. We learn from them and move on. Did you love him?”
She shrugged as her cheeks heated in shame. Why she was telling him all this, she didn’t know, but he really was easy to talk to. “I thought I did, but now I know I really didn’t. I had second thoughts that whole week leading up to the wedding, but I just thought all women have the jitters right before they get married. I’ve heard my friends and family say they’d had them, and their marriages all turned out well for the most part, so I just brushed it off and said, ‘I do.’”
“What happened after that?”
Her gaze was pinned on the table in front of her. She couldn’t say the words.
“Did he hit you, Chet?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she nodded.
Tuff let out a muttered curse. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and came around to her side of the table. Once he was there, he put one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, then lifted. Startled, she squeaked and grabbed onto his broad shoulders, but all he did was take her seat and set her down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her against his hard chest. As if sensing Chet needed him too, Meat padded into the kitchen and stopped about a foot in front of her and Tuff. He bowed his basketball-sized head and whined, clearly unsure about approaching them further. Instead of using the “come” command, Chet put her hand palm up and gestured with her fingers for him to come closer. After a few hesitant steps, he moved to her side, in front of Tuff’s knees, and settled his big head on her thigh. She ran her hand down his neck and back, reassuring him as much as he was comforting her. A few moments later, Tuff slowly brought his hand up and scratched the dog’s ears. It was a small miracle that Meat allowed it, but Chet was too busy crying to celebrate.
There she sat, in Tuff’s lap, with Meat’s head in her own, letting them soothe her. She’d shed many tears the three times Roland had hit her, but since then, she’d tried to tell everyone and herself she wouldn’t cry over him anymore. Even now, it wasn’t about him. These tears were for her naivety back then—before and after the wedding. She should’ve turned him down when he’d proposed. She s
hould’ve listened to her gut when it’d screamed at her to run the night before the wedding. She should’ve taken a baseball bat to his hands the first time he’d hit her and never given him the opportunity to do it again.
Chapter Six
As he held Chet in his arms, Tuff mentally field stripped every weapon he’d every fired, either in target practice or during a live mission, to keep from growing hard against her hip. His heart and mind had wanted to comfort her when he’d set her on his lap, but his damn dick had other fucking plans. Thank God she’d changed into a T-shirt and sweats before the cops had arrived. Not only would Tuff have been jealous as fuck that any other man was seeing her dressed in her nightshirt sans bra, but if she still had it on now, he would’ve been so tempted to dip his hand under the hem of it. While she’d stopped crying and was currently resting her head on his shoulder, now was definitely not the time to let her know he was interested in getting to know her much, much better.
His thoughts flitted to her ex-husband. While he didn’t know the businessman personally, Tuff knew who he was. Roland Stratford had stood by his brother’s side, supporting him through two successful campaigns for the mayor’s office. Roland would be very lucky if he never ran into Tuff because, right now, he wanted to hunt the bastard down and beat the ever-living shit out of him. It killed Tuff knowing any man had laid an unkind hand on Chet. No woman deserved that, especially not one he was starting to have feelings for—feelings that went beyond wanting her in his bed.
A loud groan came from Meat as Tuff scratched his ears, and the man chuckled softly. He was still shocked the dog was letting him touch him—the friendship bone must’ve made an impression on the big lug. While Tuff knew he still had to move slowly when the dog was near, this was a step in the right direction.
Chet stirred, and when she tried to stand, Tuff let her, as Meat meandered over to his water bowl for a drink. His mistress wiped away the remnants of her tears and looked at Tuff. “I’m sorry about that. I’m not usually a crier.”
Reaching out, he took her hand and squeezed it. “No need to apologize. Anytime you need a shoulder, feel free to borrow mine.”
The corners of her mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.” She glanced at something behind him, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God. It’s 3:00. You have to be exhausted. I should let you go get some sleep.”
He wanted to tell her that no matter how tired he was, he wasn’t ready to leave yet but knew it was in her best interest to step back and give her a little space. Tuff got to his feet. “You should go to bed too.” Picking up his laptop, he headed for the front door with her and Meat trailing in his wake. “Lock up behind me and keep your gun close.” Thankfully, because of her job, she had a conceal-carry license for the weapon and knew how to use it. “I’ll take another walk around the property, then tomorrow I’ll get a few more cameras set up.” She’d argued with him about that earlier, but he’d been firm. It wouldn’t be too difficult to add to the system he already had set up.
“Please let me know what it will cost, and I’ll pay for them.”
He came up short and frowned at her. “Did you forget what I do for a living? We have hundreds of these cameras. I get them for free, so there’s no charge.” Actually, that was a small lie—he got them for cost—but he didn’t want her worrying about that. “Besides, if there was, I’d just take it off next month’s rent.” Another small lie. “My cousin is good about stuff like that. Now, lock up behind me.”
Before he could turn toward the door, Chet stopped him with a hand on his bicep. “Tuff?”
He raised his brow at her.
“Thank you. For . . . everything.”
The warmth, gratitude, and something he couldn’t name that he saw in her eyes melted his resolve. He cupped her cheek, and when that warmth flared to molten lava, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. She tasted like coffee and pure sin, and it took everything inside him not to deepen the kiss. Straightening again, he stared at her startled but heated expression. His voice was a raspy whisper when he said, “You’re welcome.”
“Yoo-hoo! Chet! Anybody home?”
Chet shook her head, trying to clear it. Her mind had gone to the same place it’d been wandering to all day—to that moment she realized Tuff was going to kiss her and then he did. But before she could get over her shock and respond, he’d walked out the door. Now, she couldn’t forget how his lips had felt against hers, nor that she wanted him to kiss her again. But was she reading too much into the moment? Maybe he’d just meant it as a kiss between friends. But she could swear she’d seen desire in his eyes as he pulled away from her, and friends usually didn’t kiss each other on the lips.
“Hey, Chet, are you okay?”
Dragging herself back to the present, she looked at Tori Freyja, the head trainer and founder of Healing Heroes, a local charity that rescued dogs and trained them to be service/assistant companions for veterans with PTSD. Quite a few of the dogs Chet had rescued from poor environments over the last few years had graduated from Tori’s program and were now in forever homes with veterans. Chet had driven to the small ranch Tori owned, just north of Tampa, with two dogs she’d pulled from the shelter to see if they had the right temperament and instincts to go through the program. Meat had also made the trip but was currently in the office with Tori’s assistant, relaxing in the air conditioning.
Once more, Chet shook the cobwebs from her mind. “Huh?”
Tori laughed at her as she stood in the middle of the fenced-in training field. “Where’d you go? I called your name four times.”
“Sorry. Just zoned out.”
The trainer’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
She sighed. “I was up late last night. Some asshole spray painted my car. My next-door neighbor scared him off when he got home from work around 1:00 a.m.”
“Oh, my God!” Tori’s eyes had widened in shock. “Why would someone do that? Was it kids?”
“I don’t know why they did it, and, no, Tuff thinks it was an adult.”
“Tuff? You mean Jason Tanner?”
Chet cocked her head to the side. “You know him?”
“Mm-hmm. I’ve met him a few times at the Trident compound. Kat told me he was your new neighbor. He’s a nice guy—cute too. I love his tattoos.”
Rolling her eyes, she teasingly chastised her friend. “You have not one but two hot-as-hell fiancés, you don’t need to be ogling any other guys.”
It was true. Tori had fallen in love with two men, who both loved her and each other as well. Theirs was a true ménage relationship, but as long as everything was consensual, the threesome didn’t bother Chet at all. In fact, she admired Tori for having the courage to follow her heart and be in a relationship that was shunned by many, even in today’s society. Chet had met Mitch Sawyer and Tyler Ellis several times, and not only were they nice, but they were hunks too. Tori had hit the jackpot with those two.
“As long as I don’t touch, I’m allowed to ogle.” She chuckled. “As long as I don’t ogle in front of Mitch and Ty, of course.” She gestured to the beagle mix and golden doodle lying beside Chet’s feet. “Now, let’s put these two through their paces and see if we can’t start them on the way to their forever homes.”
Chapter Seven
Pulling her rented SUV into the driveway, a smile spread across Chet’s face. Aside from having to drop her vehicle off at a body shop this morning and secure a rental, it’d been a good day. Pepper and Diego had both been accepted into the PTSD canine program, Meat had been a very good boy throughout the day, and Tuff was at her front door. He was standing on a small ladder, installing a security camera, while wearing cargo shorts, sneakers, and nothing more. Sweat glistened across his exposed skin. His bare back was as colorfully decorated as his arms, with the main focus being a large, stunning image of the Archangel Gabriel, if Chet wasn’t mistaken. She stared at him through her windshield as his muscles rippled with the slightest movement. Damn, the man was gor
geous. If she didn’t get ahold of herself, she’d be drooling all over like Meat was doing in the backseat.
Her leering was interrupted when her cell phone rang. Pulling it from the outside pocket of her tactical bag, which stored much of what she needed while on duty, she glanced at the screen. Mom. Chet cheerfully answered the call. “Hi, Mom!”
“Hi, sweetie. Are you busy?”
She wasn’t about to tell her mother that she’d interrupted Chet leering at her hot next-door neighbor. “Not at all. I just got home. What’s up?”
“I wanted to ask you something. I was talking to Aunt Rita last night and her tenants decided not to renew their lease, so she asked if I’d be interested in renting the apartment in her house.”
That ripped the last of Chet’s attention away from Tuff. “What? I thought you didn’t want to leave Chicago.”
Her mom sighed. “Your father didn’t want to leave Chicago. I’d tried to talk him into moving a few times after you all were out on your own, but you know he never liked change. So we stayed here. Now that he’s gone . . . there are too many memories here, happy and sad. It’s also a big house for just me. I think it’s time for me to sell it and wanted your opinion.”
“If you’re calling to ask my permission, Mom, it’s not necessary.”
Although Chet was surprised at the sudden topic of her mom wanting to move, she’d been wondering about the older woman being alone in the big house. Chet was the middle child out of three and the only one who’d moved from the Humboldt Park neighborhood on the west side of Chicago. Her father had died almost two years ago after a six-month battle with cancer. At first, Chet had hated the fact her dad hadn’t been around to walk her down the aisle eight months later, but she was glad he hadn’t seen her marriage turn into a disaster. Chet’s mother knew why she’d filed for divorce, though. The first words out of Mariana Suarez’s mouth after she’d asked if Chet was okay was “I knew I didn’t like that cabrón.”
Tuff Enough Page 3
