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Stronger Than You Know--A Novel

Page 32

by Lori Foster


  Hell, even Winton and Owen looked convinced, and they’d watched her easily annihilate a grown man.

  Good thing he wasn’t a cop anymore, or he’d have to set the record straight. The goons still might, but who would believe them? They each had long records of petty crimes, like trespassing, simple assault, vandalism and public intoxication. Now there was proof that they’d been harassing Winton and other small neighborhood businesses, forcing them to pay for “protection.” What a joke.

  Luckily, he’d just put an end to that.

  Poor Madison. She’d shown off her skills with ease, but now couldn’t gloat about it. Too many people were willing to give Crosby the credit for taking down all three men.

  It’d be hilarious if he was dealing with anyone other than the McKenzies. Madison might be the only one on the scene right now, and God knew she was enough, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the family had their noses in it before the day was over.

  Once the thugs were taken away and the police left, Madison went right back to cleaning, swinging the mop with practiced ease. Swipe, rinse, wring, repeat.

  Her family had deep pockets, so he hadn’t expected her to even know how to clean.

  Was there anything she couldn’t do well?

  “Whew, it’s getting warm.” Propping the mop handle against the counter, she dragged down the snowsuit zipper even more, down and down and down, all the way to the flare of her hips, then she peeled off the top layer and let it hang over her stellar tush.

  Beneath the snowsuit she wore a black turtleneck that hugged her breasts and fit snug to her narrow rib cage. Using both hands, she gathered her long light brown hair, then asked Winton, “Do you have a rubber band or anything?”

  Owen scrambled to a drawer and produced one with a flourish that left his face hot.

  Recognizing that infatuated look, Crosby figured the poor kid would be dreaming of Madison for weeks.

  She bent forward at the waist, quickly put her hair into a high ponytail and straightened again—still looking like a wet dream.

  “I’m going to change this water. Be right back.”

  All three of them watched her roll the bucket to the back room.

  Winton slowly turned to stare at Crosby. Owen grinned.

  Shaking his head, Crosby said, “No. It’s not like that, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Too late,” Owen said, then he quickly ducked the smack his dad aimed at the back of his head. “I’ll, um, go see if she needs any help.”

  Crosby couldn’t help but laugh. Fifteen-year-old boys—almost sixteen, as Owen said any time his age was mentioned—were made up of testosterone and determination. An uncomfortable combo from what he remembered, though it’d been twenty years since he’d had to deal with that anatomical and emotional upheaval.

  “Quit frowning, Winton. He’s a good kid.”

  “I know.” Winton sighed. “And he’s currently in love with a cheerleader at his school. But still...”

  “Madison will handle it. No worries.” Switching gears and getting down to business, Crosby added, “Thanks for following my lead.”

  “You know what you’re doing.” Bracing a hand on the counter and lifting his brows, Winton asked, “What are you doing?”

  So much for Winton’s patience. “I know her and her family. Trust me, the less she’s involved, the better.”

  “Because?”

  Unable to share the reason, he shrugged. “I knew she was following me today.” She was always following him, usually online, but it figured Madison would decide to tail him in person during a snowstorm. “Warning her off wouldn’t have done me any good, and I didn’t want to take the time to try to reason with her.” Lessons in futility weren’t really his thing.

  “So she wasn’t part of your plan?”

  Snorting, Crosby said, “Definitely not.”

  “That put you in a tight spot, since you knew they’d be here today.”

  Crosby nodded. He had good street informants. Winton’s store had been targeted more than once, and Crosby had planned to put an end to the harassment. Things had gone according to plan...

  Except that his initial plans hadn’t factored in Madison being around. Once he’d realized she was following him, he hadn’t had time to reconfigure things. Losing her would have been tough, too, with the roads so slick, some of them impassable. He’d had no way for tricky driving or fast turns.

  Delaying his arrival to Winton’s store could have put Winton and Owen in danger. He’d been caught in an untenable position—not the first time when dealing with McKenzies.

  Emerging from the back room with Owen, Madison returned to mopping the floors, now with fresh water. “Might need to go over them one more time, so they won’t be sticky.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” Winton said. “With the weather worsening, there’s no point in us being open anyway.”

  Owen hefted the damaged case of beer and carried it into the back.

  Winton began cleaning up the spilled chip display.

  “I’m glad to help,” Madison insisted, using the wringer on the bucket. “We’ll have it all tidied up in no time.”

  “You,” Crosby said, feeling very divided, “have some explaining to do.”

  She smiled and, proving she’d been listening, said, “You were right, you know. If you’d told me not to come in, it would have only sharpened my curiosity.”

  Winton laughed. “I’m sure Crosby could have handled it on his own, but I admit I enjoyed seeing you in action. Are you in law enforcement?”

  Her gaze slanted over to Winton. “Have you ever seen a cop fight the way I do?”

  “Only Crosby.”

  Her slim eyebrows climbed high. “Is that so?”

  Always ready to sing his praises, Winton paused in his cleanup. “Before he was even Owen’s age, Crosby was training. He’s always been a fitness buff. Every coach at the high school tried to talk him into playing sports, but he was never interested. Said team sports weren’t his thing.”

  “Dad says he’s mostly a loner,” Owen added.

  “Or at least he was before—”

  “Winton,” Crosby warned. There weren’t many things he could tell Madison that she didn’t already know. She’d made no secret of researching him, using methods to open files that even cops couldn’t easily access. What she didn’t know she’d eventually find out, whether he liked it or not.

  Winton shot him a look of apology—one that Madison didn’t miss.

  What concerned Crosby most at the moment was how Winton would tell things, with all the nuances and added affection of a father.

  Winton and Owen fell silent.

  Madison didn’t. She returned the mop to the bucket, then folded her arms on the counter—a pose that had her breasts thrusting forward and her backside sticking out in an impossible-to-ignore way.

  Deliberate, he was sure. Everything she did or said had a purpose. He’d never known a woman who was so entirely badass, a research whiz who could uncover anything, a fighter capable of leveling a grown man with ease, who also flaunted her sexiness.

  It was an enticing mix, and damn it, he wasn’t immune.

  “I already knew he was a fitness buff,” she said, using a casual tone likely meant to regain Winton’s trust. “I mean, look at him.”

  “He’s rock-solid,” Winton agreed.

  She turned her head to see Crosby, her glittering hazel eyes far too compelling. “He’s into fashion, too. Looks like a cover model, don’t you think?”

  Hooting, Owen completely relaxed again. “That’s exactly what Mrs. Cline says. She always shops on Monday at six so she can time her visits with Crosby’s.”

  “Mrs. Cline?” Madison asked, her interest no longer playful.

  Winton patted her hand. “Pam is nearing seventy and just likes to flirt.


  “Ah.” Grinning again, Madison asked Crosby, “Have to deal with a lot of flirting, do you?”

  Since it was none of her business, Crosby declined to answer. “You should get going while you still can. The roads are getting worse by the minute.”

  Her smile curled even more. “Not without you. In fact, I’m convinced your car won’t even make it away from the curb.”

  Crosby opened his mouth, but again, Owen beat him to it. “He has an SUV, but Silver probably—”

  Winton interrupted his son with, “Go bundle up so you can help Madison clear her ride.”

  Once Owen left the room, Madison took a turn eyeing each of them before straightening to face forward. With her penetrating gaze locked on Crosby, she folded her arms under her breasts. “Why is everyone trying to get rid of me?”

  Crosby didn’t hesitate. “We have private things to discuss that don’t concern you.” He saw one scenario after another flit over her features as she determined how to proceed. So damned tenacious. “Enough, Madison. It’s time for you to go before Winton, Owen and I get stranded here.”

  Concerned, she turned to Winton. “Do you have far to travel in this mess?”

  “Um...” Shifting, looking guilty as hell, Winton muttered, “No.”

  Damn, Winton was bad at lying, even lies of omission.

  He knew the second Madison looked up that her quick mind had already put too many things together.

  Golden eyes slanted in his direction with accusation. “Let me guess. They live upstairs?”

  Winton cleared his throat. “I’ll go see what’s keeping Owen.” He literally fled the shop front.

  Knowing he couldn’t do the same, Crosby mimicked her stance, arms crossed and expression arrogant. “Contrary to what you believe, some of my business is still private.” It was a miracle she hadn’t uncovered every bit of his life yet—including the things he’d worked so hard to hide.

  To his surprise, she retrenched with a sigh, her hands falling to her sides, her expression subdued. “I’ve been too pushy.”

  That pretty much described her, always.

  Two tentative steps brought her closer to him, and with her height she nearly looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

  Damn it, now he felt like an asshole. “No one is perfect.”

  “I want to be,” she admitted. Then with surprising candor, she added, “I guess I’ve been competing with my brothers for so long that being anything less than perfect—perfectly informed, prepared and capable—makes me a little nuts.”

  Incredible insight...that made sense. “Was I wrong in thinking your brothers would show up here?” His experience had been with assertive men who wanted to take over every situation. That rubbed Crosby the wrong way, so how bad would it have been for a younger sister?

  “I called Dad. He’s the only one who could hold them back, and he,” she said with emphasis, “trusts me.”

  Her father was an imposing figure to be sure. Crosby likened him to Batman because of the way he entered a scene to the awe of all spectators. The man definitely brought a lot of larger-than-life presence everywhere he went. His sons weren’t much different. And Madison? Overall, she was cut from the same cloth.

  The senior McKenzie had probably been a strict taskmaster. After all, he was the one who’d determined that his kids would be the alphas of all alphas, apex predators who would go up against the worst society had to offer. Each of them had incredibly honed skills and a drive to conquer.

  Crosby could have easily labeled them with the criminal class, except that the more he’d learned, the more he’d...respected them.

  He could label them vigilantes, true, and that definitely placed them in the category of illegal activity. The conflict for him was that they fought against human trafficking, and for that, they had his deepest gratitude.

  “I see you’re not going to agree.”

  Crosby had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Trust?” When he still hesitated, she said, “Never mind. I guess it’s too soon for that.”

  Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Crosby asked, “Are you ready to go?”

  “Guess I might as well.” Disgruntled, she began feeding her arms into the sleeves of the white snowsuit. “I’ll feel better about this whole cluster if you answer one question for me.”

  “You need me to confirm something? Seriously?”

  “Oh, I’ll be on my computer as soon as I get home, but given the weather, that could take a little time and it really wouldn’t kill you to share one tiny tidbit.”

  Deliberately, he exhaled as if impatient. In truth, he had a difficult time keeping his hands at his sides when he really wanted to touch her. Just a small stroke of that long sun-kissed brown hair. Or a grazing of his knuckles over her downy cheek. Or... “What is it?”

  “You’re really not a cop anymore?”

  “No.”

  “Well, why not?”

  “That’s two questions.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I think I feel faint. Maybe I shouldn’t drive? I should probably ask Winton if I could hang around for a little while to—”

  “No.” She didn’t even try to look sickly as she said all that, but then the point was for her to prove she’d do anything to get her way. That was something that alarmed him the most.

  Madison McKenzie had no idea how to give up.

  “I retired,” he said.

  She snorted. “At thirty-five?”

  Easy enough to explain. “I have an old injury that was causing me some difficulty.”

  Her brows leveled over her eyes. “Someone actually bought that story?”

  Jaw tightening, he explained, “I was shot in the leg.”

  “Five years ago, but it hasn’t slowed you down. Heck, I just saw you in action, remember? So try again.”

  Copyright © 2021 by Lori Foster

  Also available from Lori Foster

  and HQN

  The McKenzies of Ridge Trail

  No Holding Back

  Stronger Than You Know

  The Summer of No Attachments

  The Somerset Girls

  Sisters of Summer’s End

  Cooper’s Charm

  Road to Love

  Driven to Distraction

  Slow Ride

  All Fired Up

  Body Armor

  Under Pressure

  Hard Justice

  Close Contact

  Fast Burn

  The Guthrie Brothers

  Don’t Tempt Me

  Worth the Wait

  The Ultimate series

  Hard Knocks (prequel ebook novella)

  No Limits

  Holding Strong

  Tough Love

  Fighting Dirty

  For additional books by Lori Foster,

  visit her website, lorifoster.com.

  ISBN-13: 9781488077814

  Stronger Than You Know

  Copyright © 2021 by Lori Foster

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.

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