“Mom’s okay, Pearl, thanks for asking. And I’m sure she’d love to have a visit today.” He gave the older woman a quick hug. “How’ve you been, and how’s Eldin? Still painting?”
For an older couple, Pearl Robinson and Eldin Wingate had had an unconventional living arrangement for years. Unmarried, they shared an old house owned by Crystal Sutton, another friend of Raina’s, who’d had to move to a nursing home a year or so ago.
“Eldin’s still painting, though Picasso he isn’t. But he’s fine, thanks for asking, and healthy, knock on wood.” She banged on her head with her fist. “Though his back still acts up on occasion and he still can’t carry me over the threshold. That’s why we’re still living in sin,” she said, citing her favorite description of their relationship.
Pearl loved announcing their status to anyone who’d listen, as many times as they’d allow in the course of one conversation. Obviously that idiosyncrasy hadn’t changed. But Roman’s reaction to it had. Instead of being annoyed by her single-minded, self-oriented focus, he realized he’d missed his small town and all the different people who occupied it.
Even the peaceful quiet of his morning walk had been a refreshing change from his hectic daily life. How long, though, before the boredom and confinement he’d felt in his youth resurfaced and took over? How long would his enjoyment last once he got hitched? He shuddered to think of his imminent doom.
“Are you sick?” Pearl put a hand to his forehead. “You can’t possibly be chilled on such a nice day. Maybe your mother should be taking care of you instead of the other way around?”
He blinked and realized he’d gotten lost in thought. “I’m fine, really.”
“Well, I’ll let you get going. I’m just going to the bank and then on home. I’ll be by to see your mother later.”
“Say hi to Eldin for me.”
Pearl headed for the bank on First and Roman picked up his pace too. So much in town had stayed the same, but it was the new and different things that interested him now and he headed straight for Charlotte’s store. Now, she was a woman who always drew him, no matter how many times she fought the idea.
Though they were mismatched opposites, she tempted him. Unfortunately, she didn’t meet the one criterion that mattered most, her willingness to accept his travels. His desire to storm the shop and her defenses was strong, but reality asserted itself. Any contact between them could only cause them both pain.
Resigned, he turned to find Rick standing where he’d been last night, watching him with a speculative gleam in his eye. “On patrol again?” Roman asked.
“Just looking out for suspicious characters like yourself.” Rick grinned.
Roman let out a groan and rubbed his burning eyes. “Don’t start.”
Rick eyed him warily. “Someone’s testy this morning.”
Roman hadn’t been until Rick started bugging him. “Later, brother. I need coffee.”
“Ah, yes. To help you wake up so the wife hunt can begin.”
At Rick’s words, Roman’s head began to pound harder.
“Good luck.” Rick walked past him and started for the panty-filled store.
“What gives?”
Rick turned, not a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Business.”
“The panty thief.”
He nodded but said nothing more. He didn’t have to. He’d already given Roman more information than he should have, all off the record. Someone was breaking into the store customers’ homes and stealing one particular brand of panties. Rick figured Charlotte could provide pertinent facts the police needed for their investigation.
“Want to join me?” Rick asked.
Roman looked for signs Rick was having fun at his expense. After all, this was the brother who as a teenager had answered the phone and agreed to blind dates in Roman’s place. But Rick stood waiting, not a grin in sight.
Roman assessed his options. He had none. The woman of his dreams was inside. Roman shot his middle sibling a grateful glance. Though gut instinct and self-preservation told Roman to steer clear, curiosity pushed him inside.
So, he admitted, did his desire to see Charlotte once more.
* * *
At the sound of the door chimes, Charlotte stopped in the middle of folding lavender lace underwear. She glanced up to see Officer Rick Chandler saunter inside.
She gave him a friendly wave, but her hand froze in midair as Roman followed him in. She licked her dry lips as she watched them walk through her feminine store.
Side by side, the contrast between the brothers couldn’t be more clear. All three Chandler men were beyond breathtaking. But no matter how handsome, Rick didn’t have the same devastating impact on Charlotte as Roman did. Ever since her return to town, they’d become good pals, nothing more. Even Chase, who resembled Roman in looks, didn’t come close to tipping Charlotte’s Richter scale the way Roman did.
Something about the youngest Chandler brother, his jet-black hair, his confident stride, and his compelling blue eyes, captivated her. Made her yearn for things beyond her control or understanding. She shivered, then let reality return. No matter how good-looking the Chandler men were, none of the brothers were interested in settling down. It was part of town lore. Charlotte couldn’t let it be her downfall.
She shook her head, and then wiggled her arms, fingers, and toes. “Relax,” she muttered aloud. Roman had always been perceptive and she didn’t want him to think her nerves had anything to do with him. Last night had proven Roman was too cocky for his own good and he didn’t need additional ego stroking.
“Hi ya, Charlotte.” Rick strode up to her, ignoring the panties strewn about, and rested an elbow on the counter, as confidently and casually as if he were surrounded by baseballs and mitts in the sporting goods store down the road.
Roman stood beside him, devouring her with a single, sexy look.
“Hi, Officer.” She managed a friendly wink meant to encompass both men. “So what can I do for you this morning? Are you here to check out the newest in thong underwear?” She tossed the joke she always used on Rick, attempting normalcy.
Rick grinned. “Not unless you plan on modeling for me.”
She laughed. “In your dreams.”
Roman cleared his throat, obviously meant to remind them that he was in the room. As if she could forget. “Come on, Roman. You have to know your brother here likes all women. He’d have a harem if it were legal, wouldn’t you, Rick?”
Rick merely chuckled.
“Can we get down to business?” Roman asked.
“Police business, unfortunately.” Rick’s mood suddenly sobered.
Charlotte didn’t like the intense sound of his voice. “Why don’t we sit?” She led them to the oversized velour Queen Anne–type chairs near the fitting room.
The two men overpowered the frilly, feminine decor. Her gaze settled on Roman. He epitomized the magnetic lure of the Chandler brothers, she thought. Every female felt his presence when he was in a room.
Though Roman remained standing, Rick sat, hands clasped between his legs, looking like a man with a secret.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
The brothers exchanged silent glances. Static broke through the quiet, Rick’s police radio calling for his attention. He shot Charlotte a regret-filled look. “Excuse me.” While he unhooked the two-way radio from his belt and discussed business, Roman’s piercing gaze never left hers.
Rick glanced up. “I’m sorry. A disturbance at the general store, and backup’s needed.”
Charlotte waved him off. “You go.” And take your brother with you, she silently pleaded.
“Roman, can you fill her in? She needs to be aware of what’s going on.” Rick shattered her hopes.
Roman nodded. “My pleasure,” he said in that sexy voice.
She shivered with awareness. Blast the man for his effect on her, she thought, but by the time Rick took off, leaving Roman and Charlotte alone in the back of her store, she hoped she’d scho
oled her face into a polite mask of friendliness. With Beth off this morning and the lull in customers, there was no one to interrupt them, so she’d be safer if she pushed the attraction to the back burner. “If such a thing were possible,” she muttered.
“Is what possible?” Roman asked.
She shook her head, then swallowed hard. “Not a thing. Is this about the panty thief?”
Roman nodded. “It’s about your merchandise.” He leaned against the wall beside her.
“Which items?” Rick hadn’t given her specifics on his last visit.
Roman coughed once and flushed before answering. “Ladies’ panties.”
Charlotte grinned. “Well, I’ll be darned, there is a subject that can make a Chandler man blush.” His embarrassment let her see a more vulnerable side to Roman than his normal, confident demeanor. She was grateful for the privilege, and a traitorous part of her heart opened to him.
“I’m serious,” he said, unaware of the effect his embarrassment had on her.
She had to keep it that way.
“This guy’s apparently got a fetish of some sort.”
A fetish for panties. She shook her head wryly, then Roman’s words sank in. “You said this guy’s got a fetish. Why assume it’s a man? Do the police think it’s a man?”
“You’ll have to talk to Rick about that.”
She nodded, giving the matter more thought. “You do realize only a woman could wear the stolen property—without anyone noticing. Unless, of course, he’s a poorly endowed man.” She met his amused gaze and caught him laughing.
“Behave yourself, Charlotte.”
His grin filled her with warmth and curled her toes. Clichéd as the expression was, it was true. “So what brand of panties? I sell dozens.”
“Again, Rick’s got the details, but he mentioned the crocheted ones in the window. He said they’re handmade?”
By her. Her garments were exclusive, fashionable, personal, and not meant to become an object of obsession or ridicule for a perverted man. She had her reasons for pursuing the hobby that had become a staple in her business. But Charlotte couldn’t imagine divulging personal secrets with Roman when distance seemed the safest route. Not when the details connected to those garments would lead to an emotional minefield.
Crocheting provided a window to her soul and discussion would reveal her deepest pain and disappointment. Because along with knitting, Charlotte had learned to crochet from her mother. They were skills Annie had developed as a means of escape, after Charlotte’s fame-seeking father had abandoned them when Charlotte was nine. Hollywood was waiting, he’d said one morning, and walked out, only to return at disparate intervals. His revolving-door habit had become a pattern in her life. It was a pattern Charlotte had always feared falling into with Roman, so strong was the magnetic pull he exerted over her.
He cleared his throat and Charlotte blinked. “I know the brand,” she said at last. “What can I do to help the police?”
“For now Rick just wants you more informed. I’m sure he’ll be in touch with what he needs.”
She nodded. As silence reigned, she sought a neutral topic. “How’s your mother?”
His features softened. “Hanging in. She’s allowed one activity outside the house a day, then she comes home to rest and keep off her feet. I feel better having seen her myself. Chase’s phone call scared me to death.”
Her heart reached out to him, the desire to help him past his fear and pain strong and overwhelming. But she couldn’t afford to connect with him any deeper than she already had. “When did you get into town?” she asked.
“Early Saturday morning.”
And Raina had been rushed to Emergency late Friday night. Charlotte admired Roman’s fierce protective streak, one shared by all the brothers when it came to their beloved mother. Though a part of her longed for him to turn that caring her way, she knew even if he did, it couldn’t last.
He exhaled, then strode toward her. Powerful and sure, he came up beside her. Her heart beat more rapidly in her chest, her pulse picking up rhythm. His body heat encompassed her, along with a rush of warmth and emotion that surpassed mere desire. The man had hidden depths and an innate goodness that came with his family name. He could give her everything she desired except forever, she thought sadly.
He reached out and tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Be careful. Let’s face it, Rick can’t say for certain whether this is a freak incident or if a fruitcake’s at large.”
A chill raced through her. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll make sure you are.” His husky voice was filled with the caring she’d desired and a lump rose to fill her throat.
“One last thing,” he said. “Rick wants to keep all this quiet. The cops don’t need a panicked town or rumors of a panty thief spreading like wildfire.”
“As if you can control gossip around here.” She pursed her lips. “But word won’t come from me.”
She escorted him to the door, torn by the desire to have him stay and the logical need to see him gone. He held her gaze one last time, then let the door shut behind him. Charlotte’s palms were damp, her pulse was racing—and the panty thief wasn’t the reason.
Heading back to the lavender panties she’d left on the counter, Charlotte recounted reality in her mind. There couldn’t be two more different people on the face of the planet than she and Roman. He thrived on transience and challenge, she needed permanence and the comfort of routine. Even her brief stint in New York, as exciting as it had been, had been necessitated by fashion school and apprenticeship. She’d returned to Yorkshire Falls as soon as possible. Roman made it his life’s goal to stay away.
She’d broken up with him once because his excitement at leaving Yorkshire Falls behind had convinced her he’d provide her nothing but pain. Nothing he’d done in his life since had convinced her he’d changed. She gripped the panties, wishing with all her heart things between them could be different but accepting reality as only someone who lived it could.
Then and now, her sole consolation lay in the fact that she had no choice. She’d done the right thing. She didn’t want to repeat her mother’s life, living in limbo until a man returned and deigned to give her attention on his terms, only to disappear again.
She couldn’t afford to admit to the sexual feelings Roman inspired inside her or acknowledge the truth hidden deep in her heart—that both his daring persona and impermanent lifestyle enticed her. And so she’d ruthlessly squelched the part of her that desired Roman Chandler, and the seeds of discontent that lurked in her soul.
Even now.
CHAPTER FOUR
A spring breeze floated through the early morning air, bringing unaccustomed warmth to Yorkshire Falls and filling Raina’s lungs with incredibly sweet, fresh air. As fresh as her sons in their teenage years, she thought wryly.
She left Norman’s, walked across First and onto the grassy mound in the center of town with a gazebo in the corner. She was meeting Eric here during his lunch hour, before he had to return to the office to see his afternoon appointments. Although he’d done the inviting, she’d chosen the place and picked up lunch. Who could resist a picnic in the outdoors? She had the most delicious grilled chicken sandwiches for them.
She paused in the center of the median, surprised to see Charlotte Bronson and Samson Humphrey, the duck man, as the children in town called him, standing together. Samson lived on the outskirts of town, in a run-down house that had been passed down from generation to generation in his family. Raina had no idea how he got by or what he did with his time other than sit in the park and feed the ducks, but he was a staple fixture in town.
She walked up beside them. “Hello, Charlotte. Samson.” She smiled at them both.
“Hi, Raina.” Charlotte inclined her head. “Nice to see you.”
“You too.” When Samson remained silent, Raina prodded again. “Nice weather we’re having. Perfect for you to feed the ducks.”
“Alrea
dy told you it’s Sam,” he grumbled, barely loud enough to be heard. “Can’t you remember a damn thing?”
“He’s grouchy because he hasn’t had lunch yet. Isn’t that right, Sam?” Charlotte asked.
Raina laughed, knowing full well he was always grouchy. Leave it to Charlotte to try to smooth over even the surliest disposition.
“What would you know about it?” he asked.
Raina knew Charlotte was probably right and she’d packed a separate sandwich for him just in case.
“Well, I know your bark is worse than your bite,” Charlotte said. “Now, here. Take this.” She held out a brown paper bag, beating Raina to her good deed.
From the time Roman had a crush on Charlotte in high school, Raina had always known the girl had a heart of gold. She remembered the two had shared one date and her son had been a bear the morning after. More existed between Roman and Charlotte than an awful date. Raina had known it then. She knew it now. Just as she also knew Charlotte Bronson and her heart of gold were perfect for her youngest son.
“Go on, Sam, take it,” Charlotte said.
He grabbed the bag and muttered a barely audible “Thanks.” He dug past the foil wrapping, taking a huge first bite. “Would’ve preferred mustard.”
Both Raina and Charlotte laughed. “Norman refuses to put mustard on grilled chicken, and you’re welcome,” Charlotte said.
Obviously the condiment on the sandwich didn’t matter, Raina thought, because he’d devoured half of it in two bites.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Charlotte waved to Raina, then Sam, and headed back toward her store.
“Nice girl,” Raina said.
“Ought to have more sense than to bother with me,” he muttered.
She shook her head. “That just shows her good taste. Well, enjoy lunch.” Raina walked past him, to settle on the far edge of the bench.
She knew better than to join Sam. He’d just walk away, as he’d done in the past. He was an antisocial loner. The younger kids were afraid of him, the older kids made fun of him, and the rest of town generally ignored him. But Raina had always felt sorry for Sam and she liked him despite his gruff outer shell. When she bought herself food at Norman’s, she always picked up something for Samson, too. Obviously Charlotte felt the same way. Something else Raina and the younger woman had in common, apart from Roman.
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