“I would never defame you, Josh,” she replied honestly. “But you’re not far off. My favor is charity related.”
“Just so you know, Violet, I get a lot of these kinds of calls. My agent gets hundreds. A month.”
“Really? I never thought of that.” And she meant it. “So, I’m adding to your long list, then.”
“Okay. So pitch me,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Katia and Austin’s friend and mine, Mrs. Beabots, is intending to build a foster child care center here in Indian Lake. She’s having a fund-raiser Thursday night at Austin McCreary’s car museum.”
“And you want me to sign autographs?”
“I do. And could you bring your Bugatti and let us take photographs of you and the donors?”
“Is that all?”
“Uh, as far as I know, yes.”
“Well...” He inhaled so deeply she could hear how long he held it before he exhaled.
His hesitancy troubled her. This was resistance. She’d been right to feel doubtful about her skills of persuasion. “I know it’s a lot to ask, Josh.”
“The thing is, I’m pressed for time down here in Indianapolis. The official time trials are next Saturday. After that is the race.”
“The fund-raiser starts at six and only goes to eight thirty. You could drive up in the evening and come straight to the museum. I talked to Katia. She said you could spend the night with Austin and her.”
“I don’t know...”
“We need you, Josh. Your presence would give our efforts a massive push. We can take it from there. It’s such a necessary cause.”
“Violet, believe me, there are so many good causes in this country, if I had the time, I’d do this for all of them. But of all the weeks to ask...”
“I understand.”
Silence.
Violet liked that he was taking time to consider the offer. She crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. Isabelle had always told her that making wishes needed concentration and action.
“Tell me something, Violet.”
“Sure.”
“I find it interesting that your group chose you to talk to me and not Katia. Why is that?”
She kept her fingers crossed. “I got railroaded.”
He burst into laughter. “Well, that’s honest.”
Violet felt anything but honest. Not only had she been petitioned by Mrs. Beabots, but she’d been ordered by her boss. Failing to get Josh’s cooperation would not sit well with her superiors. She resorted to begging. “Please, Josh?”
“I’ll talk to my manager and crew. Thursday is doable, though I have to be here Friday and obviously on Saturday for the trials. I may not get there till six thirty, but I’ll be there. I’ll have my agent send you a stack of publicity photos, too.”
Violet felt her heart jump, a feeling of uncontrolled joy. Was she feeling triumph over bagging his participation, or was it the anticipation of seeing him again? “Thank you, Josh. This will mean a lot to us. And to the kids who need a home.”
“I’m happy to do it. See you Thursday.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JOSH PULLED UP to the front door of Austin’s antique car museum at six fifteen, following the valet’s guidance to park between the two cordoned-off brass poles. He assumed this was where the photographs of him next to his Bugatti Chiron would be taken.
Judging by the packed parking lot, there wasn’t another space open anyway. He got out of the car, took out his suit coat and put it on. He smoothed his dark blue slacks and pulled the cuffs of his white dress shirt down to cover his gold watch.
“They’re waiting for you inside, Mr. Stevens,” the tall and very young valet said.
“Thanks,” Josh replied and walked inside.
The place was packed with well-dressed men and women.
He’d texted Austin when he passed through Kokomo to give him an ETA. He’d worked with his crew from dawn till the minute he left, and had managed to conduct three podcast interviews that day, too. The PR this year was relentless, he thought, but as he walked through the crowd, all he could think about was the call from Harry. Yet all around him, heads turned his way, smiles erupted on faces and he heard his name shouted with that familiar ring of adoration.
“There he is! Josh!”
“Over here, Mr. Stevens!”
As Josh crossed the room, receiving slaps on the back and far too many flirtatious gazes, all he heard was Harry’s voice.
“Stay close to these people, Josh,” Harry had said. “Humor them. Treat them with respect and kindness. This fund-raiser was a godsend for your career. Hug all the old ladies and shake hands with the guys. These photos will be all over social media. This couldn’t come at a better time. Who should I thank for it?”
“Officer Hawks,” Josh had answered.
“Hmm. I don’t like it.”
“But you just said...”
“I know what I said. And this is great timing. This confirms to me that she knows about you and Diego. You watch your back. This kettle you’ve landed in can turn out to be a powder keg. So, keep the lady cop close.”
“As in, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”
“You got it,” Harry had said.
Violet.
Josh had no more thought her name than the crowd thinned and he saw her.
And it was a shock.
She’d had her back to him so that all he saw at first were long shimmering curls over her shoulders. She turned her head and spied him. Her green eyes were made more intense by her expertly applied makeup. This very feminine, entrancing woman bore no resemblance to the cop who’d tossed him into jail. She wore a lavender dress that was cut in a V in the front and wrapped around her small waist, and fell tightly down her softly curved hips. It caused him to miss a step. He glanced behind him.
“Sorry.” He touched the arm of the man he’d nearly bumped into.
She walked toward him with an engaging smile. “Josh,” she said, reaching for him.
He’d expected a kiss on the cheek like most socialites and infield girls would do. Instead, she held out her hand for him to shake. He was surprised at his own disappointment. “Officer Hawks. Violet.”
She grinned at him and tilted her head. “Austin is over here. I’ll take you.”
“Fine.”
She kept fiddling with a gold and crystal bracelet she wore, as if its presence made her uncomfortable. Or was it being with him? He reached over, took her arm and put it through his. She looked up at him.
“You’re not used to these events, are you?” he asked.
“You can tell?”
He felt relief ease on through his body. “Stick with me. I do this all the time. There’s nothing to it.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What’s the part that makes you most nervous? That clingy dress or the people?”
Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “You think the dress is inappropriate? I told Isabelle it wasn’t exactly me, but she insisted...”
“Because it’s flattering,” he finished her thought.
“Yes.”
“I agree with your sister. And I suppose the makeup was her idea, too?”
“Nope.” She lifted her chin haughtily. “My deep dark secret is that I adore makeup. Off duty, I comb YouTube for all the latest trends.”
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”
They came to a stop as they saw Austin with his arm around Katia’s waist, talking to an elegant older couple. Austin gestured to the architect’s rendering of the proposed center.
“So, that’s it?” Josh whispered into Violet’s ear.
“It is. Sarah Bosworth and her boss, Charmain Chalmers, worked it up so that we’d have something to show this evening.”
�
��It’s fantastic. And who is that talking to Austin?”
“That’s Gina Barzonni Crenshaw. She recently married Sam Crenshaw, who owns the vineyard north of town,” Violet said. “Mrs. Beabots has asked her to donate five acres of her farmland to build the center on.”
“That conversation looks intense.”
“I’m not sure how happy Gina was about the request. Maybe we shouldn’t interrupt them,” Violet offered.
“Nonsense, this is exactly when I move in.” He dropped Violet’s arm and moved over to Austin. Though he held his hand toward Austin, he never took his eyes off Gina.
Violet followed him.
“Josh!” Austin said, shaking his hand. “How was the trip up?”
“Smooth,” Josh replied. He leaned toward Gina and held his hand to her. “I understand you’re Gina, the gracious benefactor who has donated the land for the new home.”
“That’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stevens.” Gina beamed. She turned to Sam. “This is my husband, Sam Crenshaw.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stevens.” Sam smiled.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you both.” He turned back to Gina. “So tell me, what do you think of the rendering?”
Gina pointed at the drawing. “It’s too small.”
Josh could hear Violet’s gasp behind him. “Really?” He inspected the drawing. Then looked over at the table where there was a rough interior blueprint. “It’s my understanding from Officer, er, uh, Violet here, that this is a fairly new enterprise for Mrs. Beabots.”
“That’s right,” Violet took over. “Sarah hasn’t had a great deal of time to work out the details.”
Gina slipped her arm through Sam’s. “I’ve raised four sons, and I admit I don’t know much about raising girls or their needs, but boys need activity space. What about a basketball court?”
“Gina,” Austin said, “I believe that with the budget Sarah had to go on, this was a very good design.”
Gina considered Austin’s comment for a long moment and said, “I want to talk to my sons about this. I know that I donated five acres, but looking to the future, say in thirty years, is that going to be enough? What if we need extra buildings on the property?”
“What are you thinking?” Violet asked.
“I have more land than the law allows. Perhaps it should be ten acres.” She smiled up at Sam who beamed back.
Josh watched as Sam squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. “I’m proud of you,” he said with so much love, Josh felt something in his heart tighten. When he took his eyes off the couple, he saw that Violet was watching him.
A waiter passed by with glasses of wine. Josh snagged one off a tray for himself and one for Violet. He took a long sip, thinking to wash down the dryness from the long drive up to Indian Lake. He didn’t want to admit it was emotion. Josh’s experiences in foster homes weren’t always positive, and his mind went back to his childhood friend. He and Diego had too much time on their hands, which Diego used to get into trouble. Josh had been lucky and found cars; tinkering with motors and pistons could be exciting. Josh had to give these people credit for wanting to improve the plight of homeless, parentless kids like he’d been.
From behind him, Josh heard several voices.
“Mr. Stevens,” an older woman with an air of authority who could only be Mrs. Beabots said, as she walked up with Maddie and Nate Barzonni, Sarah and Luke Bosworth and Isabelle and Scott Abbott. “All my friends have donated generously to get a photograph of you with them.”
“I’d be most happy to oblige,” Josh replied, and handed his wine to Violet. He leaned close. “I’ll be back. Don’t go away.”
“I won’t.”
As he walked with Scott and Isabelle, listening to their appreciation for his help, Josh glanced over his shoulder at Violet.
She was watching him. She hadn’t moved a muscle. This time as she looked at him, he didn’t feel like a criminal being interrogated. He felt something else. He could have sworn it was want, but he didn’t trust the feeling. Harry had warned him to keep her close, but he’d be playing with fire if he allowed his heart to interfere with common sense.
Yet, she intrigued him. Her genuineness caught him by surprise. He’d pegged her for a by-the-book bureaucrat, but her offer to retract the arrest had been unexpected. Her interest in the foster care center was real. She wasn’t like a lot of wealthy fund-raisers he’d known across the country who volunteered for events just to see their photograph in the media. Violet cared about the kids and the parents.
And she said she wasn’t good with kids.
Josh knew it took heart to relate to a child. That much he’d learned on the race circuit talking to young fans. He’d bet Violet would be a good mother—someday.
What am I thinking?
Kids? Motherhood? Violet?
Who was this Violet Hawks and why was she getting under his skin so readily?
* * *
THE EVENING WOUND down around nine thirty, one hour later than planned. Violet stood at the door, thanking the last guests for their donations as they walked to the parking lot. The serving crew had cleaned up the glasses, bagged the linens and swept the floors.
Violet noticed there wasn’t a single glossy photo of Josh remaining. They’d all been autographed and given away.
Sarah and Luke had driven Mrs. Beabots home. Austin, Katia and Josh were the last to leave.
“It was an amazing success, Josh,” Austin said, holding Katia’s hand as they walked outside into the spring night. Austin locked the museum door.
Katia hugged Violet and then Josh, saying, “We’ll see you at the house, Josh.”
“Thanks for putting me up,” he said as they walked away, their arms wrapped around each other. Austin leaned down and kissed Katia as he opened the car door for her.
Violet took her keys out of her gold envelope purse. “I can’t say thank-you enough, Josh.” She looked up at the museum. “You were amazing. Mrs. Beabots said they raised three times what they’d estimated. And Gina—doubling her acreage.”
“I didn’t do much, Violet.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.” He swept his arm over the expanse. “All of you are doing it. This is a lifetime kind of effort. To build a center for these kids.” He looked down at the concrete and toed a stray piece of gravel. “They need it. When I think of what this can mean.” He put his hand over his heart. “To kids like me—like I was, I mean.”
“You did this because you were a foster kid.”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “I thought so.”
“Yeah? So you thought I’d be a soft touch?”
“No. But I thought you’d see its worth.”
“I do.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, considering her. “So, tell me. Was any of this part of my ‘sentence’?”
A breeze wafted through the flowering crab apple trees, sending white blossoms down on them. A petal clung to her cheek.
Josh withdrew his right hand from his pocket, reached over and plucked it off. His fingers were warm as they grazed her skin. She fought the impulse to touch him. She remembered how he took her arm and put it through his, as if the gesture was natural. She had expected nothing of him. And he continued to surprise her.
“Your— Oh! The court thing. No. I was only...”
“Only what?” He stepped closer. “Still investigating me?”
Stunned that he’d brushed the edge of the truth, Violet stared at him. She lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t see that he’d hit a mark. Her reaction was about as stealthy as a bomb. She’d never make undercover detective.
When she looked up, her gaze halted on his lips, which were moving closer to her own.
“Violet.” He whispered her name just as his lips fell on hers. She meant to jerk away, but didn’t. Regs manda
ted she shouldn’t fraternize with him. Instead, she heard Detective Davis’s order to keep Josh close. But she knew it wasn’t her job that caused her arms to slip around his neck. It wasn’t a police matter that made her lips seek the taste of him. Or press her body a bit closer.
His soft lips trembled slightly as if he’d never been kissed before. It was an incomprehensible observation about a man who’d had liaisons with attractive, accomplished women all his career.
Violet found it impossible to remember her purpose in being here with Josh. She was supposed to subdue him, keep him unaware of her intentions. Instead, he had her off balance. Way off.
He slowly broke the kiss, then came back for another. Then another, short but oh, so sweet. “Violet.”
“Yes?” She finally opened her eyes.
He was smiling. “Do you want me to apologize for the kisses? I mean, I’ll do it, but I won’t mean it.”
“I think it’s okay. I’m off duty.”
“Oh, good.”
He kissed her again. She felt a rush of emotion coming from him that pulled at her. Violet didn’t know what he was doing to her; it was indescribable.
He was her quarry. There was a strong chance he was involved in criminal activity with a known drug dealer. Violet was on the verge of making a name for herself with this case.
But at what cost? The reality was he was her “person of interest,” and she was supposed to report on everything he said and did. But his kiss? That was personal. If she told him the truth, that she was only investigating him, would she hurt him? Did his feeling run deep enough that she could wound him?
Violet had never betrayed anyone. She’d never walked this line, always done what she thought was right. If she hurt Josh, she would be the villain. For this instant, she wished with all her heart she’d never met Josh Stevens.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VIOLET WALKED OUT of the shower, wrapped her hair with a towel and grabbed another towel when her cell beeped a text.
“Josh? It’s not even six thirty. Why’s he up so early?”
She read the text. Austin and Katia are making breakfast. Can you join us before going to work?
She started to text back that she had to be at work in thirty minutes, then stopped. “Josh is work.”
Hers to Protect Page 10
