Protecting His Brother's Bride

by Jan Schliesman

  “The red car?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. Glancing toward the car, he spotted Kira’s face pressed against the window. The determination in her eyes didn’t surprise him. Maybe the fact she was sitting where he’d left her meant something? Yeah, it meant she was still working on her story.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. My, um, friend will be in. Charge me for whatever she needs.”

  The clerk handed him the card. “You’re all set. Thank you.”

  Dalton shoved his wallet in his back pocket and grabbed the bag. He shouldered his way through the door, pausing long enough to hold it open for a woman clutching the hand of a little boy who insisted on stomping through each puddle of water, much to his mother’s annoyance. Dalton couldn’t help but smile at his antics, but when he looked up, he found Kira watching the scene with unguarded intensity. A moment of vulnerability she’d been fighting not to show.

  His heart sank. What in the world had Josh done to her? Dalton hadn’t considered the possibility of a child without a father.

  He reined in the thoughts. Josh was irresponsible, but he wouldn’t abandon his child. The way their mother had been begging for grandchildren, Josh would hold a parade if he’d managed to produce an heir.

  * * *

  Kira shifted in the seat and allowed herself two seconds to admire Dalton’s swagger as he strode into the convenience store. She pressed her face against the chilled glass of her window, resisting the urge to drool. Watching him in the store was the first opportunity she’d had to really see him. Broad-shouldered and action-oriented, he’d greeted the ponytailed girl behind the counter and given her a high-wattage smile.

  She was a goner.

  He gestured toward the car and Kira yanked her face away, leaving imprints of her forehead, nose, cheeks and chin on the window. Had it been too obvious, swiping her sweatshirt sleeve over the marks?

  She rifled through the contents of the center console and retrieved a crumpled twenty dollar bill and a half stick of gum.

  She shoved the bill in her pocket and tossed the gum in her mouth, realizing a tad too late it was old and rock hard. She chomped on it, anyway, needing an outlet for her sudden burst of nervous energy. There was an excellent reason she normally didn’t handle field investigations.

  Anxiety.

  Enlisting Dalton’s help was a risky plan. She had to remain strong and give him enough information to continue helping her. He didn’t need all the details at one time, especially personal ones. If she could remain calm—big if—and not tell him everything, then he might not turn her over to the police.

  What if the FBI rescinded their agreement when she couldn’t produce her wayward husband to corroborate her story? Everything changed so fast. She needed time to think and get her head on straight again, but that wasn’t going to happen before she cleared her own name.

  Griffin had tried to kill her. He’d framed her for his crimes, likely because he somehow knew she’d been getting close to bringing him down. Had he used Josh, too? Was there a chance he’d killed Josh? The thought only cemented her resolve to bring the bastard down.

  Swaying Dalton to her side meant trusting him with the entire story. He believed she was after a payday from his family and wouldn’t assist her in any plan painting Josh in a negative light.

  She stared as he held the door for a woman with a toddler. Kira’s throat tightened in response. Not just because age-appropriate kids tended to tear her heart out, but because it was a respectful gesture. And one Josh had always deemed silly.

  Kira jumped when Dalton’s face appeared next to her window, holding a large brown sack in his arms. Yanking open the door, he dropped the bag in her lap.

  “I’m going to gas up. Get whatever you need from the store. I told the clerk to charge my card.”

  She dug through the sack, fingered the shape of a shoe and pulled it to the top. The ugly orange plastic shoes came with a bonus. Glittery purple socks that tween girls adored. Kira’s feet were freezing so there was no second-guessing her options.

  She transferred the sack to the backseat before ripping the tags from the footwear. A minute later she exited the car.

  “Less than five minutes, okay,” he stated more than asked. The spark in his eyes left her struggling to breathe. “I’m holding on to your gun until you come back. Hate to see you in any more trouble. Once we’re on the road, I want the whole story or we’re heading to the cops.”

  Swinging the car door closed, she straightened her shoulders and refused to acknowledge him. He’d like nothing more than to pawn her off on the cops. That ticked her off, big-time. And really, how much more trouble could she get into? It grated, the way Dalton flaunted his power, thinking he was better than her.

  Just like his brother.

  She could get away. Right here, right now. Plead for help. Someone would have to believe her. Maybe the mom she’d seen?

  Irrational or not, Kira didn’t care. She could ditch him and get through this on her own. But the thirty feet to the store entrance seemed more like three hundred. She felt his eyes boring into her like a branding iron. Her plastic shoes made a squeaking sound as she trudged into the store and nodded at the cashier.

  Her stomach rumbled as she passed the pizza slices and fountain pop. The ice maker squealed as another batch dropped into the holding tank. By the time she’d washed most of the mud off herself in the bathroom, she’d worked out some details in her head.

  Thank him for his generosity. Apologize for the inconvenience she’d caused, and get back to Kansas City, where her bail had been revoked and a warrant issued for her arrest. Or she could trust Josh’s brother, a plan that would probably lead her to jail, as well.

  Or she could choose option number three: run and don’t look back.

  She grabbed a cloth tote bag from a nearby display and ducked into the health and beauty aisle. Band-Aids, hair ties, hand sanitizer, antibiotic ointment, aspirin, toothbrush and paste were added to the bag. She rounded the corner and hit the next aisle in a flurry, tossing in a flashlight, extra batteries, a lighter, disposable cell phone and car charger.

  When she glanced to the front of the store, the clerk was finishing up with another customer. Kira nearly ran to the checkout stand, then hefted her bag onto the counter. “I’m with the man in the red car.” She pointed toward the gas pumps, but the car was gone.

  He’d left her.

  That wasn’t the plan. If anyone was leaving, it should have been her. Dread burned deeply in her stomach. Dalton was gone. What if he told the cops exactly where to find her?

  “Don’t worry. Your friend is putting air in the tires.” The young woman gestured to the side of the building.

  “Oh.” Overwhelming relief left Kira sagging against the counter. Pressing a hand to her racing heart, she inhaled a deep breath through her nose. She’d grown so used to being alone that it was almost a shock that he hadn’t left her.

  “Did you get caught in the rain?” the girl asked while dragging each item from the bag and sliding it across the scanner.

  “Um, yes,” she replied. “I’ll be right back.” Kira returned to the rear of the store with another mission. Finding them some quality food and snacks. She would’ve enjoyed a slice of pizza, but no telling how long it had been rotating under the heat lamp. Now the stress was talking, because she never ate junk food.

  Okay, before she’d been arrested she never ate junk food. If she had a dollar for every time a claim for heart surgery crossed her desk... Or diabetes. Fat and sugar were absolutely the worst toxins you could willingly pump into your body. Before she slipped further into a tangent, she found a couple semifresh apples and bananas and two soy granola bars. She used the oversize sweatshirt as an apron, piling everything into the front. She removed two bottles of orange juice from the cooler and reached for some
veggie juice.

  “Nice sweatshirt,” a voice squeaked behind her, almost sending one of the bottles to the floor. She turned and stared at a lanky teenage boy, blatantly admiring her chest. She glanced down and noticed the Buckshot’s logo was the source of his admiration and released a sigh.

  “Um, thanks.” She offered him a tight smile, one usually successful in ending further conversation.

  “They were all gone by the time I saved up enough tokens,” he continued.

  Apparently she needed to be a bit ruder. She leaned to the side and stared at the checkout, hoping the kid would get the idea that she was in a hurry.

  “How many cups did you drink?” he asked.

  So much for subtlety. “How many cups?” She glanced down at the logo and then to the teen. If this was some lame joke about bra cup sizes, she was about to make a scene.

  “Of coffee.” He gestured over his right shoulder to the beverage counter. “Moose Mountain is my favorite. What about you?”

  “I don’t drink coffee.” She eyed the self-serve area suspiciously before her gaze caught the familiar logo slapped on the front of a shiny steel dispenser. Familiar because Josh had a shirt with the same design, or almost the same. Was it hunting supplies or coffee that went along with the bull’s-eye logo? She was about to find out. “Dalton Matthews gave me this sweatshirt.”

  “The owner of Buckshot’s? Cool.”

  Dalton was the owner of Buckshot’s and not a marketing representative? The moment she’d convinced herself he was worthy of her trust, she’d found out he lied. The sweatshirt material was suddenly tight around her neck, her body heating with anger at the thought of another lie falling from the lips of another man.

  “Want it?”

  The kid’s face lit up. She dumped the armful of healthy food on the nearest shelf and reached for the hem of the sweatshirt, dragging it over her head before handing it to the young man.

  “For the record, coffee is very bad for you.” Not that it mattered, because flavored coffees and energy drinks were everywhere. Why not drink water?

  “My mom says so, too.” He grinned, taking the garment from her outstretched hand.

  “Moms are very smart,” Kira agreed, yanking her shirt down to cover her exposed belly button.

  “Is this a private show?” Dalton asked, slipping in next to the teen and crossing his arms in apparent judgment.

  “No, Dalton.” She reached for the bottled juices and granola bars, abandoning the fruit in a fight-or-flight response. “Just chatting with one of your many fans.”

  The tiniest of cracks appeared in his stern expression and she knew she’d struck a direct blow. She’d also given the teen the perfect opportunity to worship his idol. The look on Dalton’s face insisted she shouldn’t make a scene. It was too late for that. He should have told the truth at the cemetery. Kira stepped aside and tugged on the young man’s arm.

  “Tell Dalton how much you love his coffee.”

  “Thanks, lady. I mean, um, ma’am. Mr. Matthews, sir,” he gushed in unabashed adulation. Clutching the sweatshirt in one hand, he extended the other to Dalton. “It’s awesome to meet you.”

  Kira ignored Dalton on her way to the checkout, scanning the remainder of the store for a harmless-looking person who might be convinced to offer her a ride. She stomped down the voice in her head that insisted rides with strangers were completely out of the question. Desperation overrode common sense every time.

  She set her items on the counter and waited for the clerk to print a couple lottery tickets for another patron. A woman who looked exceedingly normal and had ally potential written all over her, until she asked for a box of cigarettes. Kira nearly launched into a speech about the hazards of smoking. Couldn’t the woman read? It was written on the side of the box.

  When the woman stepped aside, the clerk reached for the bottles. “Is this everything for you?”

  It wasn’t Kira’s fault that the mini doughnuts were the featured item of the week. They were loaded with preservatives and a slew of additives no one could pronounce. And she needed them, especially since there’d be no escaping Dalton. She pushed two packages of the sugary treats across the counter. “And these, too, please.”

  “Nice try.” Dalton materialized at her left shoulder. His tone was intimidating as he placed a hand at her waist. “Grab your bag. We’re leaving.”

  His palm was hot, in contrast to her chilled skin, and it took effort not to lean into his touch. She turned her head slightly to flash him a saccharine smile. “Wait for me in the car.”

  “You’ve got five seconds before I drag you out of this store.” His warm fingers inched higher on her back, eliciting a shiver and momentarily distracting her.

  “Somehow I doubt that. Probably wouldn’t be good press for Buckshot’s Coffee, now would it?” She reached for two more packages of doughnuts and shoved them toward the clerk.

  “I’m not kidding.” He insinuated himself between her and the counter and yanked them out of the clerk’s hand. “We’ve already paid.”

  Kira dug the crumpled bill from her pocket. “I’ll pay for my own snacks, then.” She could have survived without the doughnuts, but there was no way she was letting him dictate her purchases. Especially now, when she knew he’d been hiding his wealth.

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed her wrist and reached for the tote bag.

  “I need a box of tampons,” she announced, loudly enough for other patrons to hear her request. It was an absolute lie, but she wanted to see him speechless and uncomfortable.

  His eyes glittered in mock appreciation and she celebrated the triumph. What sane man wanted to argue with a woman over feminine hygiene products?

  “Can you grab those for me, honey?” Kira wanted him to refuse, so she could return to the health and beauty aisle and bankrupt him with another tote full of “necessities.”

  The coffee king pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. She was startled and off balance, which should have meant the attack on her senses was also unwelcomed. Instead, her lips parted beneath his, allowing his probing tongue entrance. Her traitorous hands moved to his shoulders. Her breasts flattened against the solid breadth of his chest, her nostrils filling with the scent of damp sawdust. One of his hands cupped the back of her head while his other arm encircled her waist and drew her closer to his hard chest.

  Her skin tingled in awareness; a sudden heat fired in her belly with every stroke from his wicked tongue. She hadn’t felt a connection to anyone in so long. Hadn’t allowed desire to rule anything but her work ethic.

  “Anything for you, Blondie.” He winked and released her.

  Kira steadied herself with one hand against the counter and watched him stride away.

  Oh, crap. She’d unwisely pushed him too far. And her tingling lips were proof of who held the upper hand.

  The clerk gave her a conspiratorial wink and slid the doughnuts back in the bag while Kira resisted the urge to locate Dalton in the store.

  “I need a pack of Camels,” he said, sliding the tampon box in front of her. The clerk retrieved the cigarettes and scanned both items.

  “Anything else, sir?”

  “Just these.”

  Kira choked as he dropped a large box of condoms in front of her.

  A second later, he grabbed her ass.

  Chapter 5

  “Time’s up. Why is someone trying to kill you?” Dalton asked, adjusting the windshield wipers to match the steady rain. “If I’m going to put my butt on the line keeping you safe, I’d like to know what I’m up against.”

  “What do you mean?” Kira retrieved the other sweatshirt from the backseat and tugged it over her head. She waited another heartbeat before addressing what they’d done in the store. “And where do you get off, kissing me like that?”
<
br />   He spared her a glance, almost daring her to continue with the line of questioning. She’d tossed out the implication that she hadn’t enjoyed their kiss, and he knew she was a liar.

  “I didn’t tell anyone I was tracking down Josh. I don’t know anyone who’d care.” The last thing she needed was Dalton turning her over to the cops before she had enough evidence to clear her name.

  “Maybe I’m asking the wrong question.” He set the cruise control and acted as if they were discussing fabric softener sheets. “Why were you trying to track down my brother—as you put it—at the cabin? And why the heck did it take you so long to look? Did someone finally question his absence? Like your family?”

  “Nope. My foster homes didn’t want to be kept up-to-date on my life.” Truthfully, she’d done nothing but work and had no friends. Josh had insisted they keep a low profile. She’d been left more times than she could count. She’d never known her father and could barely remember her mother. Forgetting every foster home she’d bounced through was a bit tougher.

  Was it any wonder she’d bought into Josh’s version of love? What in the world did Kira have to compare it to? It might be petty and wrong, because he was dead, but she wanted to see him pay.

  “If you want my help, I need answers.” Dalton glanced her way. “Why were you at my house?”

  It was time to admit she couldn’t find the information on her own.

  “I was hoping to find Josh or search the house for any hiding spaces. He may have left something behind.”

  “There’s nothing there. I’ve gutted every room and didn’t come across anything worth hiding. Tell me what you’re looking for.” Again Dalton drummed his long fingers on the dashboard.

  She hesitated and he saw it. He probably wouldn’t believe anything she said now. Be it truth or fiction.

  “You don’t want to share? Okay. I’m giving you two choices.” Dalton flipped on the map light and she shielded her eyes.