by Janie Crouch
“We can’t do this,” he said, his green eyes pinning her.
But then his lips fell against hers again.
The second kiss wasn’t any less devastating than the first. This time, her lips parted for his without his command.
One of those strong arms wrapped around her hips and lifted her, backing her up until she was wedged against the post at the corner of the porch stairs. His hands slid under her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his hips automatically. They both groaned as their bodies came together.
It was overwhelming but in the best way possible. Her fingers threaded through the brown hair cut short against his scalp. This time she angled his head so she could get better access to him.
When his tongue worked its way deep into her mouth, she did what came naturally, sucking on it.
The groan that fell from his throat was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.
But a moment later, he stepped back again. He reached down and unhooked her legs from his waist and set them down on the ground. She stood there, staring, as he put distance between them.
“That’s not what I came here for. We need to talk.” The mouth that had just been kissing hers was now bracketed with tension.
“Oh.” Yeah, starting something with her boss’s brother couldn’t possibly be a good idea. Not that she would’ve let that stop her thirty seconds ago. A nuclear war might not have stopped her thirty seconds ago.
“How much?”
The question hung between them for a long second. When Jordan realized what he was asking, she stumbled back a step on the stairs and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t reached out to assist her. She snatched herself away from him. “H-how much for sex?”
He’d made that remark about her being like a tart earlier today at the bakery, but she hadn’t thought he really took her for a prostitute. He ran a hand through his hair. “No. I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
Thank God.
“How much will it cost for you to stay away from Violet and the bakery?”
Her arms wrapped around her middle. “I don’t understand.”
He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “How much do I need to pay you for you to quit your job? To find another one that’s not connected to my sister?”
She stared at him. She almost wished he had been asking how much it would cost to have sex with her. At least that would mean he was trying to get closer rather than pushing her away.
“A thousand dollars? Five thousand?” he continued.
She wasn’t going to quit her job. Not because of the money—five thousand dollars would go a long way toward establishing The Plan—but because she loved her job. She enjoyed being around Violet and Charlie and some of the other women who actually talked to her as if she wasn’t a leper.
It made her feel like she had friends, even if it was just an illusion.
She tamped down all the desire that had been flooding her system a minute ago. “No. I’m not quitting my job. Now get off my property before I call the sheriff. Believe it or not, the police come even when an ex-con calls.”
She didn’t know if that was true, but it probably was. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to find out.
Without looking at him or saying another word, she walked inside and shut the door, locking it behind her.
Chapter 2
Before his parents had died and he’d had to leave the military to come take care of his teenage sister, Gabe had been a Navy SEAL. He’d survived twenty-four weeks of BUD/S training, including hell week, watching man after man ring the bell and quit.
Because he was a big guy, naturally gifted in strength, his instructors had tried to use that against him.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall was an adage for a reason, and Navy SEAL instructors knew how to use it to force many of the more muscular men to quit. Because too many of those men thought strength alone was enough to become a SEAL.
It wasn’t.
Gabe had survived hell week and had gone on to become a successful warrior because he was smart, not just because he was strong.
After leaving the military, he’d built one of the most successful technology companies in the country. Again, because he was smart. Shrewd. He knew not only how to think, but also what to say to be successful. He’d sat across the boardroom table from some of the most brilliant minds in the country and had out-strategized them.
So it was difficult for him to fathom that he couldn’t keep his shit together around one twenty-three-year-old woman who liked to stand in the rain.
Could he have handled that situation any worse?
First, he’d shown up at her house uninvited and unwelcome, then he’d proceeded to come on to her like some high school jock who couldn’t keep it in his pants. Finally, he’d insinuated that she was a prostitute for the second time in one day.
All that, plus he hadn’t even accomplished what he’d gone to her house to do: keep Jordan Reiss away from his sister so she couldn’t do Violet any harm.
Although it was difficult to consider the wet waif he’d kissed on that porch a danger to anyone.
Except maybe to his sanity.
Those lips. For the ten days since he’d seen her, he’d gone to bed hard and woken up harder, thinking about the kisses they’d shared.
He pushed her file around on his desk with one finger. He didn’t need to open it to study the photo clipped to the inside. He already knew what he’d see.
A mug shot.
Even in the small photo, teenage Jordan’s pinched features didn’t hide the endless gray of her eyes. The color should’ve been cold and hard, but instead her eyes were pools deep enough to drown in. Her lips were pursed, her cheeks hollow, her forehead wrinkled. Someone on the edge of breaking.
Gabe knew pretty much everything there was to know about the incident leading to Jordan’s incarceration. She’d fallen asleep behind the wheel a couple months before her eighteenth birthday. She’d sped through a red light just as Becky Mackay was taking her son to preschool. Jordan had T-boned their car; killing them both instantly.
Nothing short of a tragedy.
Before that, Jordan had just graduated high school. A straight-A student, she’d never been in trouble with the law.
Gabe was no lawyer, but it didn’t take one to see that she’d been sentenced pretty harshly for her crimes, given her age. The sentence had been more appropriate for a repeat-offending drunk driver than an honor-roll kid exhausted from working two jobs who had made a bad judgment call.
“You studying Jordan Reiss’s file again?”
Kendrick Foster stood at his office door. Kendrick had been working for Gabe as a security consultant since Violet’s kidnapping last month, although he’d known the younger man long before that.
Gabe leaned back in his chair, motioning for Kendrick to come in. Gabe could’ve pretended he was looking at any of the dozen things that needed his attention, including the possible weakness in some of their accounting programming that could lead to theft. But he didn’t. He and Kendrick had known each other too long.
“Just trying to figure out why she got such a harsh sentence, especially considering she was a minor. Did Zac Mackay go on a rampage demanding justice for his wife and kid?”
Gabe knew Zac personally. He was co-owner of Linear Tactical, a survival, self-defense, and weapons training facility in Oak Creek. Zac and some of his army friends had started it a few years ago.
Gabe had nothing but respect for Mackay and the Linear guys. They’d even worked a couple of missions together before Gabe left the SEALs.
Going for the blood of a seventeen-year-old girl didn’t sound like something Zac would do, but hell, losing a wife and kid like that could make anyone react unpredictably.
“No.” Kendrick shook his head. “Mackay basically left town and was back to his special forces team almost immediately after the funeral. Didn’t wait around for the trial at all. As a matter of fact, it looks like Mackay actually argued pretty hard for Jordan’s p
arole three months ago.”
“Then why six years for someone with no priors and who was basically a good kid? That’s pretty harsh, right?”
Kendrick ran a hand over his bald, dark head. “I guess the judge decided to make an example of her since she had petitioned the state for emancipation at sixteen. He used that against her in sentencing. Said since she’d asked to be treated as an adult, she’d be sentenced like one. And I’m sure that he didn’t like that her father had gotten away with a lot of Oak Creek’s money.”
Gabe’s lips pursed. Sentencing her that harshly hadn’t been illegal, but it hadn’t been impartial either.
Gabe pushed the file away. What had happened to Jordan wasn’t his problem. Violet’s well-being was his problem.
“Anything to report about Violet or the bakery?” There shouldn’t be much. Stellman, the man behind Violet’s abduction, had been arrested a few days ago.
Kendrick shrugged. “With Stellman out of the picture, you’re basically paying me a lot of money to hang out with the fine citizens of Oak Creek and eat your sister’s delicious concoctions. But hey, rich and fat is a good way to go out.”
Gabe laughed. Kendrick was in his late twenties, half African-American, half Asian. The man wasn’t as big as Gabe, but he was blisteringly quick and damned smart, both academically, as evidenced by his degree from Princeton, and on the street. Sparring with him kept Gabe on his toes. And there was no way Kendrick Foster was going to allow himself to get fat, no matter how many pastries he ate.
“It’s probably time to take you off watching Violet full-time since she’s not in any more danger. You haven’t seen anything suspicious?”
“No. But what you’re really asking is if I’ve seen Jordan Reiss doing anything suspicious, right?”
Gabe gritted his teeth. “I want to know my sister is safe. She’s been through enough. I want all possible threats circumvented—whether from forces outside the bakery or within.”
Kendrick studied Gabe for a long second. “No threats from outside the bakery. Nobody has been watching or following Violet at any time. Unless you count Aiden Teague.”
Gabe all but growled. Teague had been instrumental in getting Violet away from the traffickers who’d held her, but that didn’t mean he liked the man hanging around her now. He was ten years older than Violet, for Christ’s sake.
He ignored the voice in his head that told him he was eleven years older than Jordan. Shit.
“Teague isn’t a threat,” Gabe finally said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’ll handle him—and by that I mean kick his ass—if it’s needed. Tell me about Jordan.”
Because hell if he didn’t want to know everything there was to know about the woman, partly to keep his sister safe, but also for reasons he damn well wasn’t going to discuss with Kendrick.
Although the look in his friend’s dark eyes told Gabe he wasn’t fooling the younger man.
“I don’t know what to tell you, boss. Jordan is a good employee. She shows up on time, rarely comes out of the back kitchen, and has never even so much as glanced in the direction of the cash register. Violet seems to really like her.”
That didn’t mean she was trustworthy.
Not that his body seemed to mind whether Jordan was trustworthy or not. It just wanted her.
“And your follow-up on Jordan? Any indication that she’s been in contact with her father since she got out of prison?”
“No. According to all records and my source inside law enforcement, Michael Reiss hasn’t been in contact with his daughter since he left town with the money eight years ago.”
“Mother?”
“Died when Jordan was ten.”
Gabe tapped his fingers on the file. “And the dad didn’t try to make any contact with her while she was incarcerated? I assume they’d be looking for that sort of thing.”
Kendrick studied his tablet. “No. He never showed up.”
“Are you sure? Couldn’t he have come in under disguise, using a different name or identity? He would’ve had the funds to make that happen.”
“He didn’t.”
Gabe raised a brow. “How do you know?”
“Because nobody came to visit her the entire time she was incarcerated. Not a single person.”
“Nobody? Shit. She was just a kid.”
Kendrick nodded. “Yeah, pretty much my thoughts exactly.”
“Okay, so her mom died when she was ten, her dad robbed the town blind when she was sixteen, she went to jail when she was a hair shy of eighteen, and got out three months ago.” Gabe ran his fingers over his eyes. Jesus. “Anything else happen to her I should know about? Unfortunate Medusa encounter?”
Kendrick grimaced. “Her life does read sort of like a Greek tragedy. And it hasn’t gotten a ton better for her since she got out of prison. Oak Creek is polarized about her. People either like her or really hate her. All the Linear guys and their girlfriends—ironically, some of the people who have the most legitimate reason to dislike her—are pretty chummy and protective of her. But some of the other townspeople . . .” His breath whistled out through his teeth.
Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “Bad?”
Kendrick shrugged and cocked his head to the side. “Look, I understand the appeal of Oak Creek, I really do. Last week I saw three teenagers rush to help an old lady carry her groceries out to her car. Crime rate is low, sense of community is high. But not when it comes to Jordan Reiss. Except for the Linear people, there’s some sort of mob-mentality shit going on.”
Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “People hurt her?” Goddammit, he could not stand the thought of that. It was one thing for the town not to like her living there. That was understandable. It was quite another to physically harm a woman living alone and isolated like she was.
“Not that I’ve seen. They’re just determined to cast her as the villain in their little play.”
“Does she fight back? Tell them to go to hell?” The feisty waif who’d gone toe to toe with him wouldn’t stand for that.
Kendrick just shrugged. “Jordan has been working at Fancy Pants for two weeks now, so I’ve seen her a lot. But besides your sister and Charlotte Devereux a couple of times, I’ve never seen her talk to anyone else. That’s got to be lonely at best. Maybe downright scary if any of the townspeople decide to do some of the shit they talk about.”
Gabe stood up. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’m pulling you from watching Violet. You’re right, she doesn’t need constant protection anymore now that we’ve caught Stellman. Focus on this accounting leak. See if you can come up with anything.”
Kendrick crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “It’s going to be nearly dark by the time you make it up to Oak Creek. You know that, right?”
“What makes you think I’m going to Oak Creek?”
“I’ve known you for a lot of years, brother. Never seen you this interested in a woman.”
Gabe didn’t respond. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this interested in a woman either. Especially one he had every reason in the world to stay away from. Gabe had never been drawn to trouble. He had always been willing to step up and do his duty, whether that be protecting his country or leaving the military career he loved to help raise his sister.
Trouble in any form—even a slender brunette with huge gray eyes—had never been something he’d migrated toward.
Until now.
Chapter 3
The early October sun hovered just above the treetops as Jordan made her way up her driveway. The shorter days meant frigid weather wasn’t far behind.
Wyoming winters were not for the weak. But Jordan had always loved them.
Her weary body sunk into the seat of her old pickup truck as she made her way toward her house. It had been a long day. She loved working with Violet at Fancy Pants, but the work in the kitchen definitely wasn’t easy. It required constant movement and attention to detail. Violet paid her well, much better than she wo
uld’ve ever dreamed a job in Oak Creek would pay, but the hours required arriving long before dawn and often working twelve- to fourteen-hour days. Such was the reality of a new and busy business.
But that was okay, because it wasn’t like she had much of a social life. Plus, all the money she could spare was going toward The Plan.
She’d made some headway with it when she’d purchased a new computer system a few days ago.
She was an ex-con with a gift for coding and developing computer security systems. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her, nor would it be to anyone who she might look to for employment right before they slammed the door in her face. So she was going to build her own company.
She’d had six years to work out the details. Now, she just had to make all the pieces fit together. It would change everything about her life if she could pull it off.
But it was a long shot.
She pulled the truck to a rumbling stop beside her porch.
“Good girl.” She patted the steering wheel. The truck was on its last leg. Hell, it was almost as old as she was. She prayed it would keep running, because finding someone in Oak Creek willing to work on her vehicle would be tricky. Maybe Baby, Finn Bollinger’s brother. He’d always been relatively nice to her, even in high school, when everyone else had completely shunned her after her father left. But then again, helping her might negatively affect business at his garage, so maybe not.
She got out and was only a few steps from her truck when she saw the broken window at the side of the house.
“Goddammit.” Again? As if throwing shit at her house every week wasn’t enough, someone had to come and break another window? They’d stopped for a while when Charlotte had lived here as her roommate. But since Charlie had moved into Finn’s house, Jordan had evidently become fair game again.
Her stomach dropped when she realized what room had been vandalized—the one she had set up with her new computer system.
If whatever they had thrown had hit her desk . . . She couldn’t see the damage from here. She rushed toward her front door.
