by Lori Foster
“Are you kidding me? What other man would have the backbone to seek out half brothers who didn’t know he existed? Who would have come out of prison and still been honorable? Who would try to give up his plans to protect people he barely knew?”
If he didn’t interrupt her, she’d end up slapping a friggin’ halo on his head. “You don’t know if I’m—”
“Yes, I do,” she interrupted, very sure of herself. “I know it and so do your brothers, so don’t bother denying it.” Though she stood a foot shorter than him, she flattened a small hand to the center of his chest and gave him a push. “And you can forget all this bluster. You don’t intimidate me. You never have.”
He remembered that first night, when he’d popped Bernie right in front of her. He’d never forget how she’d touched him—and how it had affected him. “I wasn’t trying to.”
Her look called bullshit. “Yes, you were. It’s instinctive when anyone gets too close. Big, badass Mitch comes out, all gruff and grumbling with ‘back off’ signals flying left and right.”
That nonsense made him snort—but she wasn’t done.
“The thing is, I know you’re a good man. I knew that right away.”
It occurred to him that part of what drew him to Charlotte was that she saw the best in him. She made him believe things would work out. She filled him with the type of peace he’d been searching for.
“I’m glad you think so,” seemed like the most adequate reply. He didn’t want to spoil a moment that felt more special than any other in his lifetime. Elliott waited for him, they were on the damn street, and still he asked, “How are you a virgin, honey? Why are you a virgin?”
Sincerity faded from her expression; she rolled her eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, the town has a shortage of hot single guys, and apparently I’m choosy.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly looking.” He’d been too focused on Charlotte to notice much else. “So it wasn’t Jack and Brodie chasing guys away? I mean, since they asked me to give it time—”
“They did what?” Anger sharpened her gaze. “They warned you off?” Her mouth flattened. “I swear, when I get hold of them—”
Mitch ended her tirade with another kiss. Softness. Heat. This time, knowing her inexperience, he took charge. “Charlotte,” he said against her mouth, because he needed to hear her name, needed to remember that he had promised his brothers, and she deserved his patience.
Turning his head a little, he deepened the kiss, and when she moaned, he slowly licked into her mouth, stealing the delicious taste of her.
The sound of breaking glass startled them both.
Jerking away, Mitch searched the area.
Elliott jogged across the street. “Came from over there.” He pointed toward the corner.
Where Mitch had parked.
Son of a... “Take her into the bar to Ros,” he told Elliott. “Now.” Then he started off in a run.
* * *
NOT WAITING FOR ELLIOTT, Charlotte ran ahead, her heart in her throat and her stomach jumping. Ignoring the way he called her name, she burst into the bar and frantically searched for Ros. She saw Bernie, the ass, waving at her, and she saw an unruly group of men and women laughing far too loudly at their own jokes.
Elliott caught up to her as she pushed forward. He latched onto her arm as if to keep track of her. “You see her?”
“I think that’s her in the back.” She strained away.
“Go on to her then, and I’ll go after Mitch.”
She didn’t know if that was a good idea or not, but she didn’t debate it. “Hurry.” When he turned away, pressing through the crowd with far more ease than she had, Charlotte continued on. In a semi-private booth in the back, Ros and Grant talked in close conversation.
Ignoring greetings, rudely moving past people, she reached Ros and burst out, “There’s trouble!”
Grant shoved back his chair and shot to his feet in a single movement. “Tell me.”
“We were outside talking, and there was a crash. Glass breaking, it sounded like. Mitch ran off—”
“What direction?” Grant demanded.
“Elliott went after him.” She quickly explained which direction he’d run.
Grant turned to Ros. “If you’ll stay in here—”
“Forget that.” Much as Elliott had, she caught Charlotte’s arm and together they headed out.
Grant got to her side. “For God’s sake, Ros—”
“You’re wasting time!” She had her phone out already. “Learn now that you can’t boss me around, or this will be our last date.”
Aggrieved, he gave her a dark glare, cursed and barely managed to get out the doors ahead of her.
Trotting along, Charlotte heard Ros say into the phone, “It’s probably nothing, but Mitch might be in trouble,” and she knew Ros had called Jack or Brodie. “No, don’t head this way yet. I wanted you to know so you could be ready, but Grant and Elliott are both here and I’ll know what happened in just a minute.”
In just a minute, because she and Ros were fast-stepping toward the sound of the crash and soon would have eyes on the men. It occurred to Charlotte that the night was dark, and only a few streetlamps lit the area. She looked around nervously as they passed a narrow alley, and then, parked at the curb, they spotted Mitch near his car, Elliott and Grant with identical stormy expressions each searching the area.
Ros stopped, caught her breath, and said, “It’s fine. I see them now.”
“Someone vandalized Mitch’s car.” Charlotte watched as Mitch walked the length of the driver’s side, then around the back. His shoes crunched over sparkling gravel that had once been a window.
Ros relayed that information through the phone. Frowning with concern, she approached the men at a slower pace, with Charlotte following. “No,” Ros said quietly into the phone. “Elliott won’t start anything with Grant. He knows I’d take him apart.”
Under different circumstances, Ros’s comments might have amused Charlotte. Not this time.
Breaking away from the woman she loved like a second mother, Charlotte walked up to Mitch.
He didn’t look at her. “They knew I was here.”
That frosty voice sent a shiver down her spine. “It’s still drivable?”
“They keyed it, broke the window—” He scanned the area and shouted louder, “Then they ran like the chickenshit cowards they are.”
His voice boomed over the empty streets, bouncing off buildings and echoing down alleys. In the distance a dog barked, but otherwise only silence replied.
Elliott came quietly to his side. “It can be repaired, son. Odds are the boys already have windows at the shop.” He glanced at Ros.
She shrugged, spoke into the phone, then confirmed, “They do. Brodie says he doesn’t have black paint but he can get it here shortly.”
“There, you see.” Elliott squeezed Mitch’s shoulder. “It’ll be a joint effort. I’m good with this sort of thing, in case no one told you.”
Provoked, Mitch closed his eyes and laughed. When he opened them again, blistering rage made it clear what he thought of Elliott’s offer. “You think I give a damn about a scratch or a broken window? Better that it be my car than anyone else’s.” His gaze flickered to Charlotte, burned there a moment, then cut to Grant. “The big picture here is that someone knew I was nearby. Since only a few people saw me, I have to wonder if Newman was lurking around the area, waiting—or if someone clued him in.”
Grant, a law officer through and through, said, “We don’t know for sure that it was—”
“It was,” Mitch stated.
“Without a doubt,” Elliott affirmed.
After he and Mitch shared a knowing look, Elliott shook his head. “Look, none of you know the prick, okay? Mitch and I do, and I’m telling you, this is his handiwork. Every damn time I visited Mi
tch, my car got trashed.”
Mitch’s brows went up. “I didn’t know that.”
“No reason you should,” he said gruffly. “Wasn’t a problem for a kid, you know? The point is, Newman likes dicking with people. He gets off on it, makes him feel like a big man.”
Ros folded her arms. “And I suppose you just let it fly?”
“Now, honey, you know me better than that.”
Both Ros and Grant scowled at his endearment.
Elliott didn’t seem to care. “I told him if he didn’t leave my car alone I’d be collecting his teeth—and meant it—but it always came back to Mitch, and Velma’s refusal to leave. I couldn’t risk it, so I started parking elsewhere.”
“I’d have rather you made him toothless,” Mitch said.
“I did bust some knuckleheaded goon he sent after my car.” Elliott smiled at the memory. “Let’s just say he won’t be eating any corn on the cob.”
“If you’re done bragging?” Still holding the phone so Brodie could hear, Ros walked over to Grant. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Not without proof, no.” Resentment left him taut. “I’ve got people watching for him, but until he shows...”
“He’ll show,” Mitch said. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll begin a pattern that even an idiot like Newman can’t miss. He’ll know where to find me and when.”
Through Ros’s cell, Brodie said, “And we can get that trap set.”
Mitch nodded.
Tired of him ignoring her, Charlotte went to his side. “In the meantime, is it safe for you to be alone?”
His laugh was harsh. “You can’t know how badly I’d love for him to show up, to try something. Anything.”
“From what you’ve told us, he won’t fight fair,” Charlotte reminded him.
Finally his gaze clashed with hers. “And you think I will?”
Funny, but her predominant emotion in that moment was pride. Taking his hand, whether he wanted her to or not, Charlotte smiled. “I think you’ll do whatever you need to.”
Her never-ending faith in his character left Mitch visibly struggling. Eventually he’d understand that he was the one with the bias. Others saw the truth, saw him, and felt nothing but respect.
Ros delicately cleared her throat. “Are you staying in town, Elliott?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Elliott said, “Ummm...”
“Because you should.” With a firm nod in Mitch’s direction, she explained, “He’s out there all alone and I don’t like it.”
Mitch opened his mouth, but Ros didn’t give him a chance to say anything.
“If you can resist the urge to run off, I’d appreciate it if you kept an eye on Mitch.”
Elliott beamed. “For you, Ros, darlin’, anything.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “It’s late. I want to make sure you and Charlotte get home safely.”
Grant and Elliott both jumped in, volunteering to escort the ladies at the same time.
Despite the awful circumstances, Charlotte almost laughed at the way Ros gleefully—vindictively?—chose Grant.
“We’ll stay in groups. Elliott and Mitch can go together, and Grant can come home with us.” She smiled at him. “You’ll check through the house too?”
Now that he’d gotten his way, Grant grinned. “Be my pleasure.”
After explaining the plan to Brodie, she gave the phone to Mitch. “He wants to talk to you.”
Phone in hand, Mitch turned his back on everyone and said to Brodie, “Everything has changed.” He nodded. “Yeah, I figured you knew—right?” His gaze sought Charlotte. He didn’t smile, but there was something in his eyes that looked remarkably like deep satisfaction. “I’m glad you see it the same way I do.” He nodded. “Count on it.”
After he returned the phone to Ros, he walked to the rear of the car, looking it over again.
Following, Charlotte whispered, “What was that about?”
“Just setting things straight with Brodie.”
The way he said that, her heart started jumping in her chest. She licked her lips, saw him track the movement, and flushed. “Meaning?”
His fingers, rough tipped but incredibly capable, drifted over her cheek. “It was either walk away—”
“No.”
“—which I can’t do,” he finished. “Or keep a closer eye on you.”
Oh, great. Another watchdog? “Are you serious?”
With a slow nod, he smiled. “I’ll be pursuing you with intent.”
“Won’t be much of a pursuit.” She held out her arms, ready, willing and more than happy about it. “I’m right here.”
Glancing at the others, he lowered his voice even more. “Tempted as I am to move at Mach speed, you deserve the whole deal, so that’s what you’ll get.”
Honest to God, her heart tried to hammer its way from her chest. Butterflies unleashed in her stomach. “The whole deal?”
“Dates. Dinner, movie...” He shrugged. “Whatever’s available in Red Oak. I want to spend time with you, Charlotte. Just the two of us.”
“I want that as well.”
“Perfect. Then we can start tomorrow—that is, if you have time for coffee before work.”
“Oh.” Her smile went so wide, it hurt her cheeks. “Yes, that’d be terrific. I could meet you—”
“Nope. Part of the deal is that I’ll pick you up.” With added meaning, he said, “I’ll keep you close. I’ll damn sure make certain Newman gets nowhere near you.”
Aware of Ros, Elliott and Grant watching them, trying to hear, Charlotte twined her arms around his neck and went on tiptoes for a brief but stirring kiss. “If everyone thinks I need an added guard, well then, I’m glad it’s you.”
Mitch’s hands settled on her waist. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
* * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES BEFORE Mitch was due to pick her up, Charlotte paced the kitchen. She’d thought about him all night, wondered how it had gone with him and Elliott, and she wanted to see him to know that nothing awful had happened overnight.
Had he slept in that tent, vulnerable to attack? She couldn’t imagine Elliott joining him in the yard, but hopefully he’d stay close enough to hear if there was any trouble.
She wasn’t an alarmist, but her instincts screamed a constant warning and she couldn’t help but be afraid.
For Mitch.
Today, she’d dressed with a little more care than usual. Yes, her hair was up; the forecast predicted a scorcher with high levels of humidity, so nothing else made sense. But instead of her usual haphazard ponytail, she’d taken the time to arrange a careful and hopefully romantic topknot. Since Mitch seemed to enjoy them, she’d deliberately left a few flyaway curls teasing her nape and temples.
Instead of a loose T-shirt paired with worn jeans, she chose a fitted cream-colored camisole and denim shorts with an embroidered hem. Because she couldn’t run around the office in anything uncomfortable, her sandals were the same.
Hoping it wasn’t overkill, that she wouldn’t be too obviously on the make, she touched one long curl that draped her shoulder.
“My, you look nice,” Ros said as she made a beeline for the coffeepot.
Turning, Charlotte laughed. Ros too had upped the ante on her appearance. “Look who’s talking.”
Striking a pose, one hand holding her coffee elevated, the other placed just-so on her hip, Ros smiled. “Is the shirt too low? I don’t want to give Grant the wrong idea.”
Grant or Elliott? Charlotte wondered, but then maybe even Ros wasn’t sure.
“You look beautiful.” What Charlotte lacked in boobs Ros made up for in excess. She rarely wore V-necked shirts, not out of modesty but more in deference to comfort. Like Charlotte, Ros preferred jeans with T-shirts in the summer, oversize sweatshirts in the winter.
Tod
ay she’d chosen a floral tank top and white capri jeans and she didn’t look anywhere near her early fifties.
“So.” Bringing her coffee to the table, Ros said, “Sit with me a few minutes.”
Having nothing else to do, Charlotte took the chair opposite her.
Folding her hands on the table, Ros got right to the point. “You and Mitch.”
The smile took her by surprise. “Yes, me and Mitch.” Then she remembered and scowled. “Did you know Jack and Brodie convinced him he should wait before showing his interest? Mitch mentioned something about it yesterday, so I called Brodie last night.”
“They love you,” Ros said, unconcerned as she sipped her coffee. “You know deep down that it wasn’t a bad idea to get to know him better.”
Before she replied, Charlotte considered her words carefully. In the end, the truth was all that mattered. “The thing is, I already know him. I felt I knew him the second we met. There was something... I don’t know how to describe it, but it was different.”
“From other men you’ve known?”
She nodded, trying to think it though. “With other guys, I wanted to be liked. I wanted them to want me.” Even with Ros, talking about this was a bit uncomfortable, but she continued anyway, wanting the feedback. “I mean as a woman. Not...not sexually. I just wanted to be involved with someone, to be able to say I had a boyfriend or that someone found me appealing.”
With a tempered smile, Ros sipped her coffee before setting it aside. “That’s completely natural.”
Maybe... “But now, with Mitch...”
“With Mitch, it’s all of the above, isn’t it? You want him to like you for the person you are, and you want him physically.” Rosalyn reached across the table for her hand. “Plus it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks because with Mitch, it’s not about proving anything to anyone.”
Overwhelmed with Ros’s insight, Charlotte smiled in gratitude. She couldn’t have had this conversation with anyone other than the woman who was like a mother to her as well as a best friend. “I know it’s too soon, but I think I love him.”
