Open Your Heart

by Cheris Hodges

  The killing didn’t make much sense, but it wasn’t for Chase to unravel. He needed to make Yolanda Richardson go away. Perhaps killing her in Charlotte would keep things from rippling back to Danny.

  Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he’d been acting lately—except for sending that lady threats, letting her know that someone was after her. Now that was stupid as hell. Surprises always made the job easier. Made planning the act easier. But Danny’s actions made this hit harder than it needed to be. It should’ve taken him three days to scout this woman, kill this woman, and go home.

  Danny with his flowers and threats were out of pocket. Though he was a good client, Chase’s partnership with Danny was going to end after this job. Power had gone to his head and that was more danger than Chase could afford to deal with. He’d been a contract hunter for years, never been caught or implicated in a murder. He had more than thirty kills under his belt and he wasn’t about to let this job be the one to take him down. He needed to make a decision quick as to how to handle this woman. Tonight would’ve been perfect—if she had been alone.

  Another day wasted.

  * * *

  Yolanda tried to focus on Alex telling her not to ask Robin questions about Logan when she came to visit for Thanksgiving. She knew her sister and brother-in-law were having some sort of issue, but at the moment, she couldn’t stop watching Chuck as he watched her. “Alex, I get it. But I have to go.”

  “Wait. Have you gotten your new shop open yet? We’re going to have to help Nina pick a wedding dress soon and some sensible shoes. You know if she has her way, she’d try to wear some Chuck Taylors.”

  Why did she have to say Chuck? “Alex, I have a delivery to sign for.”

  “This late?”

  Yolanda ended the call and turned to her protector, or was he her nemesis? “Can we go in now?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his eyes focused on a figure walking down the sidewalk.

  Yolanda folded her arms and waited for Chuck to make a move. A beat passed and he started toward the door of the restaurant. Yolanda followed and inhaled deeply. That man’s scent filled the atmosphere and she was caught in rapture of his aura. Why couldn’t her father hire some fat white man to keep her safe? A man she didn’t want to wrap her thighs around and feel deep inside her. Yolanda closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to relax. She walked into the restaurant trying to pretend that no one was trying to kill her and that Chuck was a dinner date, not a bodyguard. She couldn’t keep playing that role. The man wasn’t interested in anything but doing his job and she needed to accept that.

  They returned to the table and noticed the ice had melted in their drinks. When Yolanda reached for her glass, Chuck shook his head. “We need fresh drinks. You don’t know if someone dropped something in here.”

  She closed her eyes and thought about how her new normal was always waiting for a killer to snuff her out. Why did she have to be there that night? She’d turned down a perfectly boring date to design that window scene.

  Chuck seemed to sense Yolanda’s unease. “I hate to sound like a broken record, but if you want to stop living in fear, you know what you have to do.”

  “All I have to do right now is get some food in my stomach because I’m hungry. And you sound more like a CD on repeat.” She laughed but her eyes still held fear. Chuck placed a comforting hand over hers.

  “At some point you’re going to listen to the song all the way through, right?”

  “After Nina’s wedding. Can we do it then? My sister has been through a lot and I want to be there to celebrate her day.”

  “You all are pretty close, huh?”

  Yolanda smiled thinking about her sisters. Despite the fights and arguments they’d have every now and then, the Richardson sisters were close. And if she would cause them to be hurt because of this mess, she’d never forgive herself. “We have our moments. Do you have any siblings?”

  Chuck nodded. “Two sisters who think I’m the worst brother in the world until they need someone’s background ran.” He chuckled softly.

  Yolanda could only imagine what kind of brother he was. Stubborn. Overprotective. Basically, Alex with muscles and a gun. “Are you older or younger than your sisters?”

  He smiled. Those damn dimples. “I’m the youngest. My sisters are twins and I was their cute little doll until they realized I was going to need a diaper change.”

  “Wow. You were actually a baby once,” she quipped.

  “Funny.”

  She couldn’t help but get lost in his Emerald Coast eyes. A lot of people wondered why Yolanda liked the beach as much as she did. Most people who grew up in a coastal town would be happy to get away from the ocean and sand. But when Yolanda needed to recharge, she went to Destin. Or she’d go home and hang out on Folly Beach. Something about ocean waves gave her peace. But she wondered what Chuck would look like in some hip-hugging swim trunks running down the coast that matched his eyes. Stop it, she chided. This is business and it doesn’t matter if he is the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

  “No more jokes about being a child?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Not right now. Give me time to eat and I’ll put on a whole comedy routine for you,” she said as she spotted the waiter walking over to them with fresh drinks and a basket of chips. Yolanda clasped her hands together.

  “They make those chips fresh every day. So amazing.”

  “Are you a foodie as well as a fashionista? I didn’t think those two could go together.”

  “Women eat and wear clothes. What’s the problem?”

  Chuck threw his hands up as the waiter dropped off the drinks and chips. “You’re right,” he said.

  * * *

  What in the hell am I doing? Charles thought as he looked away from Yolanda’s full lips as she nibbled on a chip. He’d opened up a little too much and got comfortable with her when he shouldn’t have. Charles had no intention of falling into the sense of ease he had felt with Hillary. Without knowing it, Yolanda had tempted him into believing they could at least be friends. When they weren’t arguing, she was charming. But she was always beautiful. It didn’t matter if she was smiling, frowning, or scowling, Yolanda Richardson was beautiful.

  And that was a problem. Beautiful women came with a different set of problems and he wasn’t trying to get caught up again. Or put Yolanda in even more danger because he couldn’t control his growing attraction to her. What if she had a man?

  He’s a sorry-ass man if he is allowing her to go through this alone. But knowing her, she hasn’t even told him what’s going on.

  “Please, don’t let me eat all these chips, because I will.” She pushed the bowl toward him and Charles took one of the warm chips between his fingers. He took a quick bite and nodded.

  “These are good.”

  Yolanda reached for another chip just as Charles did. Their fingers grazed and she looked as if she felt the same electric charge he felt as well.

  “Sorry, I’m being greedy,” she said as she took her hand away.

  “These will make you do that. Maybe we should get another basket.”

  “Oh, accidentally touching me, is that gross?” she quipped.

  He would’ve loved to tell her the truth, that her hands felt like silk, that he’d touch her all over if he could. But those words and his lustful thoughts were inappropriate. Why the hell did he take this job? Being this close to Yolanda was torture. That’s why he needed to find the person who was trying to kill her, sooner rather than later. Then the temptation would be gone. She’d settle in with her new shop and new city. He’d go back to Charleston and run his business. Then he could invite her out for a drink. Hell, he’d take her to breakfast, lunch, and dinner if she allowed him to. But that would have to happen after. After this was over and she was safe. Once Yolanda got back to her real life, would there be space for him in it?

  “So, you can only talk when you’re trying to make me go to the police?” she asked, noting his silen
ce.

  “Since you brought it up,” he said with a short sigh, “we need to go to Richmond and talk to someone about the murder investigation. We need some clarity as to where things stand.”

  She shrugged. “You can’t just make a phone call or two?”

  “That would alert the wrong people as to what we’re doing. And I want to look around the area, just to see who the players are and how someone could send a killer across state lines to find you.”

  Yolanda nibbled on a chip. Charles watched her hand tremble. “The man, the shooter, his name is Danny.”

  “You know anything else about him?”

  She picked up another chip and broke it in half. “I didn’t want to interrupt him while he blew a man’s brains out and ask him for his LinkedIn profile.”

  “Do you think you could pick him out if you saw a picture of him?”

  Chapter 11

  Yolanda closed her eyes. For months she’d been trying to forget Danny and the bulldog. But their faces were burned on her brain like a tattoo. She didn’t want to spend any time flipping through pictures looking for those men. But if she wanted this nightmare to end, then she was going to woman up and face her ultimate fear.

  “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “I can pick him out, but I don’t know if I’m up to a trip back to Richmond right now.”

  “I know you’re . . .”

  She held up her hand. “No, if I go to Richmond right now I’m probably going to fight my soon-to-be former brother-in-law.”

  Chuck smirked. “Interesting, you’ll fight your brother-in-law, but you won’t fight for your life?”

  Yolanda was ready to tell him how he was ruining dinner with all of his judging, but the waiter arrived at the table with their entrees. At least she could ignore him while she ate her gooey quesadilla. Glancing at his shrimp tacos and red beans, she wished they were on a date. She was never that girl who didn’t take a bite of her mate’s food. Chuck didn’t seem like the sharing type, so she decided to stop herself from reaching for a juicy shrimp that had fallen from the shell.

  Chuck caught her eyeing his plate. He reached for his fork and speared the shrimp. “I know the Charleston in you wants this, right?”

  Oh, if he only knew everything she wanted that was sitting at the table. “Well, you offered,” she said as she leaned forward and bit into the shrimp on the end of the fork. Their eyes locked as she ate the shrimp. Now, Yolanda knew the look of desire when she saw it, and Destin eyes over there looked like he wanted everything she craved and more. Or she was just being horny and ridiculous again.

  “Good?” Chuck asked as he dropped his hand.

  Yolanda nodded as she swallowed. “I don’t know why I’ve never tried these before. I guess I just don’t think of Charlotte and fresh seafood.”

  “I understand that. I mean, I won’t fool with crawfish that isn’t from the Gulf Coast.”

  Yolanda closed her eyes briefly, wondering if he was good at sucking . . . the crawfish. Why was she like this? “Crawfish, huh?”

  “Mud bugs are the best. My granny was from New Orleans and she made the most amazing crawfish étouffée ever.”

  So, he didn’t suck the heads. She could think about something else now. Chuck continued his crawfish memories, though.

  “But there is nothing like a plate of crawfish fresh from the boil. Bite the heads off and suck on that sweet meat.”

  If she hadn’t been sitting down, Yolanda would’ve passed out. “Um,” she said as she twisted in her seat.

  “Not a fan?”

  “Maybe I just need to be convinced.” Yolanda crossed and uncrossed her legs underneath the table, hoping to ease the throbbing between her thighs. Nope. It wasn’t working because all she could think about were those lips sucking sweet meat. Her meat. Her pussy, to be exact.

  “Yolanda? You all right?”

  She gasped, realizing how deep she’d fallen down the rabbit hole. “I guess I’m just tired. It’s been an eventful day and I’m starting to feel it.”

  “Want to take this to go?”

  Yolanda smiled. “Yes.”

  Chuck waved for their waiter and asked for a couple of boxes. After they’d packed the food, he stood up and gave the restaurant a deep glance.

  Yolanda knew the pseudo date was over. He was back to being Chuck Morris, the bodyguard. Or was he a security specialist? One of Charlie’s Angels? She still found it hard to believe that she was walking around with this man because someone could be lurking in the shadows ready to take her out. It would’ve been so much better if he was taking her home for ninety-nine different other reasons.

  After an uneventful ride back to Yolanda’s place, the duo retreated to separate areas of the house, Yolanda heading to her studio upstairs and Chuck wandering the house and the small patch of yard. She didn’t know where he had gotten the motion-detecting lights that he’d positioned around the walkway of the house. Maybe she needed to stop with the after-hours cocktails and wine. But tonight wasn’t going to be that night. Yolanda needed to pass out in her bed without thinking of walking toward the sofa, where Chuck would be sleeping, and mounting him.

  Why are you like this? She thought as she started for the stairs.

  “You should really close your blinds,” Chuck said as she reached the bottom step. Startled, Yolanda stumbled and Chuck enveloped her in his massive arms. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She held on to him a beat longer than she should have and inhaled his crisp scent. How did he smell so good after being outside and walking around the property? Because he was clearly magical.

  “Designs, I was thinking about my new designs and I forgot that you were here,” she said as she pushed out of his arms.

  “You really need to pay attention to your surroundings at all times.”

  She raised her right eyebrow at him. “Even in my own home?”

  “Especially here. You’re most vulnerable at home and this is likely where . . .”

  “You want a water?” The last thing she wanted to hear was that she wasn’t even safe at home.

  “No thanks. I’m going to heat up the leftovers after I close the blinds in your studio.”

  She nodded and headed for the kitchen. Halfway there she stopped. That man could not see her drawings in her studio!

  * * *

  Charles closed the window dressing after checking the locks on the French doors. It was cute, but not the safest windows or doors in his opinion. Granted, it was better to have the windows upstairs rather than on the first floor. Clearly the room had been Nina’s master bedroom. Made sense to him that Yolanda would use the space to be creative. He glanced around the room, taking note of the mannequin frames with lush material draped across them. Those could come in handy if they had to hide in the house. Was there more than one person gunning for her? He crossed over to the bright lamps and turned them off. The curtains were too thin and he’d suggest that she get black-out curtains or something to shield her from anyone looking at her.

  He glanced over at the huge drawing table and took a deep breath when he saw the image on the paper. She’d been sketching him in swim trunks. Just as he was about to pick up the drawing, a breathless Yolanda burst through the door.

  “Oh my God!” she stammered. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said as he turned away from her desk.

  Yolanda folded her arms across her breasts and his mouth watered. She was sexy when she pretended to have an attitude. That bravado hid her fear and he understood where she was coming from. But this was a comical situation. And he should’ve let it go.

  “You’re really going to act as if your observant ass didn’t look at my sketches?” she snapped.

  “Men’s line? Nice.”

  “Yeah, because men buy clothes and you’d be the perfect model for my Emerald Coast line,” she replied honestly. “I get that you’re trying to keep me safe, but if you ever look at my sketches again, you’re going to need prot
ection from me.”

  “I don’t know how all of this works,” he said, fanning his arm around the room. “But you’re talented. I’d hate to see you get snuffed out before you have a chance to make your mark.”

  Yolanda placed her hand over her heart and he could’ve sworn he saw tears spring into her eyes. “Are you serious?” she asked.

  Charles picked up one of the sketches. “If I was in Miami, I’d probably wear these while I was surfing.”

  “You surf?”

  He nodded. “Something I got into after watching Point Break.”

  “Great movie, but I don’t understand how you even got into surfing from that movie.”

  “I wanted to go into law enforcement from an early age. That movie sealed it for me and riding waves got me away from my sisters. They don’t like salt water.”

  “So, you ran from them and into the ocean?”

  Charles nodded and returned the sketch to the table. “I didn’t know you designed for men as well.”

  “Just something I’m playing around with.” Yolanda crossed over to the table and flipped her sketches over. Was she embarrassed? Maybe he shouldn’t have looked at them, but it was interesting to see how she saw him. If the design business didn’t work out, she could easily draw comics. She met his gaze and ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “Are we done here?”

  “Yeah, for now,” he said. “But you need to get some blackout shades for the windows up here.”

  “Um, no. This room has the best light and that’s why I switched bedrooms,” she said.

  “And I bet you spend a lot of time up here working without noticing if somebody is watching you.” He crossed over to the French doors and pointed to the trees across the way. “This city seems to be obsessed with a tree canopy. People can hide behind those branches and have a direct view in here.”

  “People? Like you think there’s a whole gang of killers looking for me?” Her voice was filled with emotion.

  “I don’t know. But I’m trying to be prepared for anything.”