He’d seen her a dozen times over the last year and half, but he’d never introduced himself, even though he’d wanted to. Of course, most of the times he’d had his nieces with him, so hitting on a woman with them present—not cool.
“You know, we’ve never actually met. I’m Owen McBride.” He held out his hand to her.
She took it and shook. “Claire Walsh. You come into my shop with your girls.”
“They love your place. Whenever I steal them from their mother, they ask to go to your café and bookstore. I think they like making a rough guy like me play tea party.”
“You always seem to enjoy yourself. You’re really good with them.”
“I love those girls to death. They have such a fresh and unspoiled view of the world. They remind me not to be so serious. I have so much fun with them.”
Claire’s soft smile turned into another big yawn. “I’d really like to go home.”
“Okay.”
“Are we leaving soon?” she asked when he didn’t move to get in the car and drive them home.
“As soon as you give me back my hand.”
This time, he smiled when she looked down at their joined hands she held in her lap. She released him and squirmed in her seat. Yeah, he wasn’t the only one who felt the heat between them.
He closed her door, skirted the front of the truck, and jumped in behind the wheel. He held the key, but didn’t turn it and start the engine. Instead, he cocked his head and stared at her one more time, from her pretty toes to her disheveled golden hair. Nervous, she grabbed the long strands, brought the bundle over her shoulder, and draped it over her breasts. The mass waved softly down to nearly her waist. His eyes followed the line to her legs, outstretched to the dashboard. She tugged at the hem of her short robe.
Claire seemed oblivious to her appeal. Of course, she’d had a hell of a night. Still, she looked better than great, even with the gash along her jaw, the ice pack wrapped around her shoulder, and her feet wrapped up in bandages. He liked her rumpled hair and clothes. It made her seem more approachable, where her put-together, business-casual-slacks-and-blouses appearance at her shop made her seem less so because she was so appealing.
“With all that happened tonight, I forgot to ask if you’d like me to contact someone for you. Your parents? A friend? A boyfriend maybe?”
“I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Isn’t your wife waiting for you to get home?”
He turned in his seat and faced her. “Do you really think I’d say something like that if I had a wife?”
“A wedding ring doesn’t always stop a man from flirting.”
“I’m not wearing a wedding ring.”
“They slip off as easily as clothes when a man wants another woman.”
“I’m going to chalk up the insults to my character to the fact that you’ve had a crappy night and you’re exhausted.”
“Oh come on. You come in with your girls all the time. It’s only natural I’d think you actually married their mother, though I don’t see you with all of them often.”
“While I love and adore Rain, she belongs to my brother, Brody. And so do the girls.”
“Huh?”
“I love them like they’re mine, but the girls are my nieces,” he said, shifting back in his seat and starting the engine. “That ex you referred to earlier must have been a real piece of work. Someone should kick his ass.”
“Well, after hearing you with the sheriff . . .”
“Right. I got arrested a couple of times for drunk and disorderly, started a couple of bar fights back in the day, so I must be a deadbeat dad who knocked up some woman and never married her. No matter what I may have done in the past, I never hurt a woman or treated her bad. So we’re clear, I don’t sleep with my clients either, despite what that asshole, Dale, said to you tonight.”
“I was going to say you’ve obviously changed, moved to the right side of the law as an attorney, helping women escape their deadbeat and abusive husbands, and I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions about the girls. You come into the shop with them. They kind of look like you, so yeah, I thought they were your daughters. I’ve even seen you play softball with them.”
“Don’t worry about it. With a past like mine, I’m used to people thinking the worst.”
Her hand settled on his arm and he tried not to notice the way she softly rubbed her hand over his bicep.
“It’s very sweet you have tea parties with your nieces and play ball with them. You look especially fetching in the pink boa and golden crown.” She held back the smile, but underneath she was laughing at him.
He relaxed and felt his own smile. “Is it your secret way of torturing men, keeping all those dress-up clothes in the shop?”
“Kids love to play pretend. When little girls can get the big, strapping men in their lives to be silly with them, it builds their confidence and endears the men to them even more.”
“Yeah, well, I’d do anything for Dawn and Autumn.”
“When they grow up, they won’t settle for a man who’d do anything less. You’re really good with them.”
“How’d you end up with a guy who’d be stupid enough to cheat on you and lose you?”
“How do you know he did?”
“You thought Dale was looking for your ex, who supposedly slept with his wife.”
“Right. Well, Mike is one of those people who can stare you right in the eyes, smile oh so charmingly, and lie like the devil without a care. In the beginning, I can honestly say he really wanted me. I didn’t make it easy.”
“He liked the chase.”
“Apparently, his favorite part.”
“So when he caught you, he needed that chase again.”
“He lives for it. It didn’t happen right away. We were happy. For a while. But I wanted something too permanent for his liking.”
“A faithful husband isn’t something you should have to want for; it should just be when you commit to someone and say vows.”
“One would think. He tried, but in the end, it’s just not who he is. It’s taken some time to get to the point where I can look back and know I didn’t push him out the door. He had one foot out the whole time.”
“What finally made you walk away?”
“I’d been thinking of leaving for a few months. I wanted kids, and judging by the age of the girl who showed up at my house demanding I give my husband the divorce he told her he wanted, so did he.”
Owen laughed, but tried to smother it in the end. “Sorry. That’s funny.”
“Didn’t seem like it at the time, but yeah, it’s funny.”
“He’s a dick who doesn’t deserve you. Anyone stupid enough to lose a great woman like you should be shot just for being an idiot.”
“You barely know me, how do you know I’m not some shrew of a wife?”
“Your shop and the way you are with the kids who come in there. You love what you do. You put your whole heart into it. I have no doubt you did the same with your marriage. Any man who’d give that up doesn’t deserve to live.”
Some part of him had been paying close attention to this woman. He’d never really thought about her like this. Yes, he’d been drawn to her, but he’d kept his distance. Well, he’d been a busy man, taking care of Rain and the girls in his brother’s absence and building his law practice. Sure, business was booming, but that didn’t mean his personal life should suffer.
Maybe all he’d been waiting for was a chance to meet Claire outside her shop. When he wasn’t dressed up like some overgrown wannabe drag queen in a crown and boa.
He’d never seen enough interest from her to prod him to make the introduction sooner. Probably because she’d always thought he belonged to someone else. Now she knew better, and some of the looks she cast him on the drive home made him hot and ache with a need he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“You passed my driveway.”
He stomped on the brakes and glan
ced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, he’d gone right past her place, headed home. Some kind of late-night unconscious slip, or is that really where he wanted to take her?
“Sorry. Autopilot, I guess.”
Too tired to analyze things now, he put the truck in reverse, backed up, and pulled into her driveway. Dylan and his deputies left right after Owen followed her to the hospital, but they’d left the lights on inside the house and at the porch.
He slid out of the truck and went around to her door. She already had it open, so he took her hand and held her steady while she slid out. She winced when she put weight on her feet. Without a thought, he scooped her into his arms, closed the truck door with his hip, and carried her up to the front door.
“You can set me down. I can walk. The worst of the cuts are on the side of my feet.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, leaning down so she could put the key in the lock.
He stepped into the living room and stopped short, seeing the broken glass door and shambles in the dining room.
“Damn, I’m really sorry this happened.”
“Not your fault. Really, you can put me down.”
“This is the best part of my night.”
She smacked him on the shoulder, but he set her on her feet and held her by the arms to steady her.
“Okay.”
“Yeah. Um, thanks for bringing me home. I appreciate you staying with me at the hospital.”
“Dismissing me already.” He frowned and shook his head. “Well, I’m not leaving until that window is boarded up and this place is cleaned.” He glanced at the boxes stacked around them. “You’ve lived here for quite some time. Why haven’t you unpacked?”
“It’s a process.”
“Too busy working on the shop to do the house.”
“No money to do the house after I set up the shop. My ex left me with a lot of bills and crap credit.”
“Asshole.”
“And then some, but thanks. It’s nice someone else sees him like I do.”
“Your family didn’t support you in the divorce?”
“They did, but they blamed me for not sticking it out, trying to make it work. Like I did something to drive him into those other women’s arms. I didn’t deny him my heart or my bed, but when he cheated, they still thought I made him do it.”
He cupped her face. “He’s an asshole. You’re better off without him. Let’s never speak of him again.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I’m tired and that guy demanding to find my husband because he was sleeping with his wife brought it all up for me again.”
“You were hit by a car, you had your past thrown in your face, it’s late, and you’re tired. Why don’t you go change, and I’ll sweep up the glass and take care of boarding up the window. If you give me your insurance information, I’ll call them first thing in the morning and start your claim and have a new sliding door put in as soon as possible.”
“You don’t have to do all that.”
“I want to. This wouldn’t have happened if not for my client. Let me do this. It’s the least I can do.”
“You’ll find the information in my office.” She pointed to the closed door off the living room. “Bottom drawer of the desk in the file marked insurance.”
He smiled to lighten things and teased, “An organized woman. Dangerous creatures.”
“Yes, well, stay out of the other stuff. There be dragons with sharp teeth who’ll burn your ass for snooping through my papers.”
He laughed. “Not the trusting sort, are you?”
“I’ve been burned already.”
“I’m not out to hurt you, honey. Just help you.”
“You can’t be that good looking and not have some flaws.” Her cheeks blazed red.
He laughed again. “I’ve got plenty of flaws, but none that will bite you on the ass. Unless you want me to,” he teased. “Because it’s a fine ass, and I wouldn’t mind.”
Her eyes went wide. Maybe a spark of interest crossed them before she spun around and fled for the stairs. Well, limped to the stairs due to her injured and severely bruised hip. The doctor told him she’d been lucky not to break it.
“I’ll be down to help you clean up in a minute,” she mumbled, not looking back.
“I’ll be here.” Meaning he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He liked her.
He stared at the broken door, the glass on the floor, and toppled chair and knickknacks. Dale came here and hurt her because of some perceived rivalry. Well, Owen wasn’t going to stand by and let him follow through on his threats to hurt Claire to get to him.
He may not have really known her before tonight, but if someone did hurt her, it would affect him. She had a hold on him. For the first time, he didn’t feel the need to shake a woman off and put some distance between them. No, he wanted to draw Claire in and keep her close. To what end, he didn’t know. But he definitely wanted to explore the possibilities racing through his head.
Chapter Six
* * *
CLAIRE ENTERED HER room, saw her rumpled bed, and sighed. She wanted to crawl in and sleep the day away. Not going to happen. Things needed to be done. She had a strange man in her house. Okay, not so strange. Handsome. Gorgeous. Funny. Nice.
She stopped that line of thinking and headed for the bathroom, pulling her robe off and tossing it in the hamper. It took some doing to get the bandage holding the ice pack on her shoulder off, but once she did, she winced at the throbbing ache. She checked the bruise in the mirror, but couldn’t see the scraped, raw skin under the bandage. Not so bad now, but in another day it would bloom into a vivid display of color about four inches in diameter.
Careful as she moved her arm, she pulled her bloody shirt off and tossed it in the trash. She turned on the cold water, cupped her hands, and doused her face, staving off the tears that threatened whenever she thought about what happened tonight. The fear came back, knotting her stomach and making her hands tremble.
She’d worked so hard to create this life on her own. Now, being alone terrified her.
She dried her face on a towel and grabbed her brush, pulling her hair up and into a ponytail. She couldn’t believe she’d spent the last few hours in the presence of Owen and the cops looking like she’d been struck in a lightning storm, her hair a mass of frizz and tangles.
Refreshed, she walked into her room naked and went to the dresser. A truck engine idled outside. Maybe Owen finished cleaning and was getting ready to go home. As much as she’d like this long night to end, she didn’t want to be alone.
She pulled on a clean pair of white pajama bottoms with tiny purple violets and a matching purple tank top. She didn’t know what to do about the sliding door. She’d have to call someone first thing in the morning. At least the insurance would cover a new door. One less thing for her to pay for to upgrade the older home. She’d gotten the place cheap because it needed a lot of work and upgrades. Over time, she knew she could make the place her own. She liked home-improvement shows and trying her hand at new projects. So far, the upgrades to her bathroom had turned out wonderfully. Still, the insurance deductible would set her back.
Dressed and feeling fatigued, she went downstairs, careful of every step she took on her sore feet. The living room lights were still on, but she veered to the kitchen to make a cup of tea to calm her nerves and help her sleep. Maybe she’d splurge and make a cup of her favorite hot chocolate. There might even be a can of whip cream in the fridge.
The glass had been cleaned up. Her broom and dustpan sat next to the stainless steel garbage can. She turned to the cupboard to take down the hot chocolate when she realized she didn’t hear the truck any longer. Owen must have left. Her stomach tightened and her heart sank. Despite not knowing him well, she’d hoped he’d stay, or at least say goodbye.
She found the hot chocolate and turned to get a mug from the other cabinet.
“Hey,” a deep unfamiliar voice said from behind her. Every nerve went on alert. Her heart pou
nded with fear. Instinct told her to run, but how far could she go with him so close? She grabbed a knife from the butcher block beside her and spun around, hurting her sore feet but not really feeling the pain.
“Stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”
Somewhere in her muddled mind he looked familiar, but the fear stole her rational thoughts. Her hands shook and she backed up into the counter, looking everywhere for an escape that seemed impossible.
“Hey now, you’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Tears filled her eyes. Too much to take in one night, she stammered, “Get out. Leave me alone.” The stranger took a step toward her, and she took one toward him. “Get out, or I’ll gut you where you stand.”
One side of his mouth cocked up in a slanted grin. His eyes flashed with admiration, confusing her.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m looking for Owen.”
“He doesn’t live here. Why does everyone think he lives here?” she yelled.
A flash of movement came from her left; she swung to face the new danger and inhaled when Owen rushed her, pushing the knife out of his way and pulling her close. She immediately dropped it and grabbed hold of him as he kept his back to the stranger, her back to the counter, and his big body protecting her.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. That’s my brother, Brody. He came to help me board up the glass door.” He hugged her closer when she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and held him tighter, crying all over the front of his shirt, her face buried in his chest, her bravado from a moment ago drained away, overwhelmed by her fear. Owen was here, holding her, keeping her safe. She needed him and refused to let go, even when he tried to back away.
“Brody, man, you want to give us a minute.”
“Sure. I just wanted to let her know I’m here. She’s got a lot of guts, facing off with me with that knife. I like her.”
“Yeah, I like her, too.” Owen brushed his hand over her head and settled into her, holding her tight and close.
Brody left with a chuckle and an “I bet you do.”
Falling for Owen Page 3
