by Lori Foster
On the other hand, the thought of touching him made every part of her spark with awareness in the most delicious ways. It was as if female parts of her that had been dormant were now awake and cheering for attention.
Without thinking about it, she licked her lips...and saw his gaze track the movement.
His nostrils flared.
And suddenly he turned away, striding fast from the room. Without a word.
Staring at his retreating back, hurt, unsure what had just happened, Charlotte saw him head back through the kitchen, no doubt to go outside.
Until she sucked in a deep breath to feed her straining lungs, she hadn’t realized she’d stopped breathing. Stumbling forward, she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed.
What to do now?
If she was better at these types of relationships, maybe she’d know for sure what to do. Maybe she’d know for sure what was happening.
But being woefully inexperienced with male attention, she just didn’t know. Yes, she was pretty sure he was attracted to her, but that didn’t really mean much, right? Her close association with the family probably put her in the “off-limits for a fling” category. Anything more?
Doubtful that he wanted that. He’d only just found his brothers, had a new house in a new location. Adding a romantic entanglement wouldn’t be ideal.
Maybe she was hindering, rather than assisting, his relationship with his brothers. Over and over again, she tweaked his anger. Repeatedly she asked questions that were none of her business. She hadn’t meant to be, but she was intrusive.
Should she bow out? Keep her distance? Maybe she’d talk to Ros and get her opinion. Until then...
She wouldn’t cower. She wouldn’t hide. No, she didn’t have Ronnie’s courage or Mary’s polish, but she had pride enough to get her through today.
And if she wanted him more and more? She’d deal with it.
Pushing back to her feet, Charlotte followed the path Mitch had taken until she heard voices outside—not just Mitch and Brodie, but another guy too.
Newman?
Fear got her feet trotting until she pushed through the screen door in a rush, only to find Grant there. Relieved, she noticed he wore jeans and a polo shirt instead of a uniform. He stood near Ros, looking between her and the brothers as he talked about Newman.
Yup, she’d just accepted that she intruded too much, and still Charlotte couldn’t resist joining the group to find out what was going on.
“I saw him again,” Grant was saying, “just hanging out at the diner. Reminded him I wouldn’t tolerate any trouble and he did an impression of a misunderstood, innocent man who only wanted to see Mitch.”
“Oh, he’ll see him all right,” Brodie said, all but cracking his knuckles.
With an eye roll, Mitch replied, “I have no problem seeing him.” To Brodie, he added, “Alone. In fact, I could head over there right now—”
Grant shook his head. “Sorry, no. I offered to put him in touch with you today, and he said he was taking off soon on some business and didn’t know when he’d be back. He asked where you lived, but I didn’t know and wouldn’t have told him anyway. I do know he checked out of the hotel.”
Muttering a curse, Mitch said, “So now he’s on the loose? I knew I should have gone last night—”
“What kind of business?” Brodie interrupted.
Grant shook his head. “No idea. He had a weaselly little creep with him who cracked up when he said it.”
Mitch’s mouth flattened. “Probably Ritchie. Newman is a coward who’s afraid to be alone.”
“This Ritchie fellow didn’t look like much in the way of backup.”
“He’s not, except that he won’t hesitate to stab you in the back.” Shoulders bunching, Mitch added, “Literally.”
Grant’s face darkened. “I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.”
Ros put a hand on Grant’s arm, which caused him to go very still.
Interesting.
Charlotte looked, but neither Brodie nor Mitch seemed to notice. Well, she noticed, and for the first time she realized that Grant was a good-looking guy. Close to Ros’s age, maybe a year or two older. Silver-tipped dark hair and piercing blue eyes. A strong jaw and a still-fit body. No, he wasn’t as tall as Brodie or Jack, but was significantly taller than Ros.
They looked...cute together. Huh.
“He knows you’re aware of him, and that you’re keeping an eye on things.” Ros’s smile had a little extra wattage to it. “That matters.”
“I want you to call me anytime.” Covering her hand with his own, Grant looked around the circle. “All of you.”
“Will do,” Brodie said, and everyone knew he wouldn’t. He much preferred to handle things his own way.
Obstinately silent, Mitch didn’t commit one way or the other.
Leaning closer to Grant, Ros said, “We do have an idea.”
“Mom,” Brodie said with significance.
Unfazed by his warning, she continued. “Brodie has someone keeping an eye on Freddie’s to determine if Newman visits there at a certain time each night. We already know he’s hung out there twice. If we can anticipate where he’ll be and when, we can all confront him—”
“What?” Mitch took a hard step back, separating himself from the rest of them. Muscles in his shoulders and back expanded. He sounded almost desperate when he said, “No, listen. You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s a good plan,” Brodie countered.
“It’s really not.” Mitch scowled at them all. “See, I’m not a kid. I don’t need any of you to protect me. I only told you about Newman so you’d protect yourselves.”
“He needs to know you’re not alone,” Charlotte said.
“I don’t want him to know that! I don’t want him to know anything about you.”
“Mitch...” Ros began.
“I’ll find him. I’ll talk to him.” He took another step back. “I’ll handle it, I swear.”
“Sure you will,” Brodie said. “We have no doubts on that. But we want him gone, right? For good. Like Charlotte said, he needs to see us with you.”
He shook his head, rejecting the offer. “It’ll go easier if you’re not.”
“I met him,” Grant said. “One on one, you’d do fine. You know that’s not how his ilk operate, though, so accept the help.”
“He’s up to something—I know that because I know Newman, know how he works. I know what it means when he goes to ground. It’s better for all of you if he doesn’t know we’re...”
“Related?” Charlotte offered softly.
The look he shot her made her want to cringe, and also hurt her heart. The desperation, she knew, was to protect them—even at a risk to himself.
Sighing, she held up her hands. “It’s true.”
Frustration ripened to something hotter. “Jesus, I didn’t come here for any of this, and I’m starting to think it was a big fucking mistake.”
Firm, purposeful, Grant took a step toward him. “Calm down and watch your language.”
With a humorless laugh, Mitch ignored him. “I don’t need mothering. I don’t need backup.” He gestured at the house. “I didn’t need any of this.” His gaze zeroed in on Charlotte. “You shouldn’t have brought them here.”
Charlotte’s throat went so tight she couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe. He was hurting, and that hurt her too.
“You done?” Brodie asked, and in comparison, he sounded completely composed.
Mitch threw up his hands.
“I’m giving you some leeway, because one, I know my family and I are pushy as hell. We don’t know how to tiptoe in, so instead we bulldoze. I hope you’ll get used to it because I’m not sure we can change. Two, you’re used to being alone and handling things your own way. Getting input chafes your ass, but trust
me, that’s not going to change now that you’re part of us. Not today, and not twenty years from now. Family is there—good times and bad. Sometimes nice, sometimes annoying as hell. In the end, they’re still family.”
Mitch’s eyes flared, then narrowed again.
Arms folded, Brodie didn’t blink. “And three, at this point, it’s not so much about what you want.”
Fingers in his hair, Mitch turned away. The raised voices had brought Brute to his side, looking up at him, obviously worried. Howler chose to lean against Mitch’s other side, almost pushing him over.
Unconcerned, Brodie smiled. “Jack and I now know we have a brother. For us, there’s no going back. Regardless of what you do or how you feel about things, we’ll be here, caring and concerned. It’ll be easier for us if we’re with you. Does that matter at all?”
If anything, Mitch only stiffened more, but at least he rested one hand on Brute. Then he rested the other on Howler.
Brodie gave her a small, reassuring smile with a wink, before he continued to Mitch. “Charlotte and Mom have big hearts. You don’t know this about them because you’re new here, but they’d have done the same for any new resident.” He shrugged. “They help. Anyone and everyone.”
“True enough,” Grant said. “Folks want or need something, they usually start with Ros because she’s good at figuring it out.”
“And Charlotte always pitches in,” Ros added. “Every single time.”
A deep inhale, a slow exhale, and Mitch faced them again. “I appreciate it. I really do. But it’s too much.” He looked at the house. “I had plans to get it fixed up. Eventually it’ll be a business. I wasn’t in a big rush, so you didn’t have to—”
Brodie scoffed. “You think I’d do less for a brother than I would for a new neighbor? You’d be dead wrong.”
“Look at it as an opportunity. A fresh start here, with your family.” Ros curled her mouth, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “And just so you know, I’ll mother anyone I want to and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Admiration beamed from Grant’s smile.
“I think,” Charlotte said, “that you all need to give him a little room to breathe.”
He nodded at her for that.
She wasn’t done. Hung up on something he’d said, she pointed at the house. “What kind of business?”
Mitch gave her such an incredulous look, it made her defiant.
Right, she’d just asked everyone to give him room, and then she, herself, had pushed forward again. “What? Is it a secret?” When he continued to stare at her, she grumbled, “You shouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want me to ask.”
Everyone waited, and finally Mitch gave in. “Landscaping.”
Brodie snorted. “Why the hell are you secretive about that?”
He shot back, “Maybe I don’t want you taking over?”
That earned a grin. “I promise my contribution will end with painting, and you can buy the paint.”
“It’s already bought.”
“There you go.”
Charlotte stepped close again. “Do you really want us all to go?” She prayed not, but if he did, she’d do her utmost to get the others to budge.
For now.
First though, she’d try to gently talk him around. “Isn’t it just a little bit nice to be able to share? I mean, you’ve already accomplished a lot.”
“I shared when I bought my land,” Brodie said. Smiling, Ros looked around. “Didn’t this use to be a landscaping business? I seem to remember buying flowers here once.”
Appearing relieved to have a diversion, Mitch nodded. “Four years ago, the owner died. I had the money from my mother’s house and everything I’d saved. This setup was cheap.” He gestured at the barn. “Tools and machinery included, though the bigger equipment needs a little work.” Before Brodie could get a word out, Mitch cut a glance his way. “I’ll let you know if I need any help.”
Pleased that he was no longer growling, Charlotte grinned. “Brodie’s good with mechanics. Jack too.”
This time Mitch’s huff sounded close to a laugh.
“It’ll be wonderful,” Charlotte said, then wished she hadn’t when Mitch lifted his gaze to hers, then just kept on looking. It immediately put her on the spot, and she could feel everyone glancing her way. “Well, it will be.”
He nodded. “Hope so.” Giving in an inch, he added, “And yeah, I guess sharing is nice.”
“Landscaping.” She liked the idea of it. “You have experience with that?”
Looking around at the yard and outbuilding, Mitch nodded. “Before prison, I worked for a self-employed guy who did landscape design with trees, shrubs, that sort of thing. That’s what I’ve done for the past year too. In the time between getting out and coming here, I mean. I like being outside, working with my hands, seeing things grow, so...” He seemed to run out of words and turned his attention down to Brute.
Both dogs looked ready to doze off.
“It was meant to be,” Ros whispered.
To Charlotte, it sounded as if Mitch had truly settled here—near his new family.
Near her too, though she knew she hadn’t factored into his decision.
“That’s why you knew about the gravel?” Brodie nodded as if just piecing that together. “Since it looks like Charlotte wants those damn bushes—”
“I do,” she said fast.
“Maybe I can get your input on that too.”
Instead of agreeing, Mitch said, “I’m going to go by the hotel.” Steely-eyed, he looked from Brodie to Grant to Ros. He didn’t even glance toward Charlotte. “I’ll leave my number for the desk clerk to give to Newman. Hopefully he’ll call and I can get this resolved.”
“Fine,” Brodie said, as if it were still up to him. “But if he dodges you, like I think he might, we’ll go with my plan. Deal?”
Very reluctantly, after a long hesitation, Mitch gave a single firm nod of acceptance. “All right, sure. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Never would.”
Progress, Charlotte thought, and it made her smile.
With that settled, Grant turned to Ros. “Why don’t I drive you home? Leave the boys here to talk.”
Ros actually blushed. “Thank you, Grant, I’d appreciate it.” To the boys, she warned, “No fighting, and I mean it.” She gave Charlotte a hug. “I’ll see you at home later.”
Then she allowed Grant to help her into the car, when she’d have smacked Brodie or Jack for even trying.
As if it only just then struck him, Brodie stood there watching them, his expression comical until the retreating car could no longer be seen. Turning back to Charlotte and Mitch, eyes wide with confusion, his jaw a little slack, he asked, “Does Mom have a boyfriend?”
All the tension building from the last hour suddenly burst, pushing Charlotte into a fit of laughter. She tried to quell it, but then she’d look at Brodie again. Eventually her hilarity affected Mitch and he joined in.
Brute and Howler started running around, barking excitedly, and that just made Brodie’s droll expression all the funnier. She and Mitch were practically holding each other up.
“Wrap it up any day now,” Brodie directed.
“Your face,” she gasped, trying to explain why she couldn’t.
“Hit ya hard, didn’t it?” Mitch tried to wipe away his grin, and failed.
Deadpan, Brodie said, “You’re not helping.” He cracked a grin. “I call dibs on telling Jack.”
* * *
“STILL CAN’T BELIEVE Mitch ratted you out to Barney Fife. What a shit move.”
Hiding his ire wasn’t easy, but Newman managed a grin for Ritchie. “The cop was funny, right? Trying to stare me down.” He knew a clean cop when he laid eyes on one, and the squeaky-clean guy who’d approached him at the diner
looked like he’d never done more than write a speeding ticket. Hell, Newman had gutted better men than him. Having a badge didn’t change things.
They’d already thrown the few things they’d brought with them into duffels and left the hotel. He didn’t run from anyone—but he’d told that damn nosy cop that he’d be away, so how could he stay here?
“We should gut the bastard,” Ritchie said, “and be done with him.”
“We?” Lee asked, once again driving.
Ritchie shot him a dirty look. “You know what I mean.”
“This place is different from back home,” Newman mused, watching the landscape as Lee took the long way around to their destination. “You think folks around here wouldn’t notice a dead cop? They’ve only got—what? Three?”
“A few more than that,” Lee said, since he’d scoped out the station on their first day. “With the whole town so small, they don’t need many.”
“Besides,” Newman added, “working around Officer Colvin might even be more fun.”
“Yeah?” Brightened by the prospect, Ritchie sat forward. “What are we gonna do?”
Pulling up to the far end of a wooded lot, Lee said, “We’re here.”
Ritchie looked around in confusion. “Here, where?”
“Come on.” You’d think Ritchie would have caught on by now, but there were times Newman thought he might be too stupid to live.
His tone must have conveyed as much, because Ritchie didn’t ask any more questions as they trekked through the woods with Lee leading the way.
They stopped when Mustang Transport came into view.
“Oh, shit,” Ritchie whispered.
In the cluster of trees and scraggly shrubs bordering the track around the property, they could see the building—and anyone going in or out.
Lee had been here off and on all morning, waiting for the little curly-haired bitch to come to work. It was a starting point, a way for Lee to tail her, to find out where she lived.
When she hadn’t showed, Newman thought maybe Lee had fucked up and missed her somehow. Then Colvin caught him at the diner, and it all went sideways.
So here he was, playing chickenshit games. No matter how he painted it for the others, it grated. One way or another, he’d get his pound of flesh.
