by Cait Jarrod
A ringing sound filled the air. “Anderson.” Steve’s commanding voice thundered over the speakers.
“Steve, I have a flat.”
“You never bought a spare, did you?” he asked, his voice tight.
“No.”
“Where are you?”
While Celine gave him their location, Charlene stared out the window at the cows grazing in a nearby pasture and thought about her flippant behavior toward Larry. With him, she stayed in emotional turmoil: Wanting a relationship when she didn’t trust anyone with her heart proved difficult to handle and made her lash out.
“Thanks.” Celine hung up and squeezed Charlene’s hand resting on her knee. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Steve’s on his way.”
“I thought you two were broken up.”
Celine forced a laugh. “Well, we have our moments. He doesn’t like for anyone to be stranded. If a BOF member broke down, he’d come running. That is, if he was in the area.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at Larry.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.”
Charlene gave a half smile. “What do you know about him?”
“Not much. He’s a decent guy, cute actually if you like redheads, and loyal to Jake and Steve. That’s about it.”
“Auburn.”
“Huh?”
The memory of Larry’s hair, disheveled, and gorgeously hanging over his forehead, crossed in Charlene’s mind. “His hair is auburn.”
Celine slanted her head. “Back to my question…why is he getting to you? You two have a thing?”
“Not a thing…more like a moment.”
“Obviously, you won’t share, so I’ll change the subject. Is Paul coming to Cocktail Hour?”
Celine knew more about the group’s comings and goings than she did. “I haven’t heard.”
“It’s funny how we never know where Paul is. Now, he’s a man that’d be hard to date…at least with Steve, I have half a clue when to expect him in town. Paul leaves at the last minute for parts unknown, to compete in some sort of race that he just found out about. I think there’s more to his story.”
Not knowing him well, Charlene had similar thoughts. The few months since she joined the group, Paul had been the one who wasn’t around much, not Steve.
“Makes me wonder, is all,” Celine said as a black SUV stopped behind them. “The Cavalry has arrived.”
Charlene eyed the driver’s door opening in the rearview. Larry filled the mirror. “I didn’t think he’d come.”
Steve closed the passenger door.
“Hmm…I wonder how they got here so fast.” Celine raised a brow, watching the men.
“Do they have a tracker on your car?” Charlene teased.
“On our phones, I’m sure.”
“What?”
“They mean well.”
Celine’s soothing tone and comforting hand on Charlene’s arm didn’t stop her irritation from gaining momentum. Charlene shoved open the door and came nose to nose with Larry. Her hands landed on his chest.
The specks of gold shining in his honey eyes tugged an awareness low in her stomach and convinced her nipples to stand at attention. It was all she could do not to lean forward, like he’d done to her this morning, and kiss him.
Her pestering negative side raised its ugly head, insisting she not allow Larry to have influence over her. She moved her fingers to shift away, but the side of her that wanted to be loved and to believe in Larry’s trustworthiness fought back. She fisted his shirt and relished in the contour of his chest.
“There’s a nail hole,” Steve said from somewhere in the distance.
Neither Larry nor Charlene responded.
Larry covered her hand. His deep soul-searching scrutiny cut right through her, the kind where a decision was made if you want the person or not. The gaze stole her breath.
For a beat of time, he let her see deep inside him. A place she believed no one was allowed, a place of doubts and fears.
He blinked.
The moment disappeared, replaced by a confident, mysterious front that wouldn’t allow anyone in.
He released her and walked to the rear of Celine’s car.
What had he seen when he looked into her eyes? What decision had he made? Did he want her?
Did he decide he didn’t want her?
The pings shooting through her from him walking away stung, tightening her chest, then grew stronger, seeking to grab hold of her essence and let loose her tears. A part of her she refused to let anyone touch.
With the car held up by a jack, Steve removed lug nuts. Larry knelt beside him. The jeans strained, cupping his muscular thighs and butt. She had to look away, and moved to the boarded fence to watch the cows grazing in the pasture.
By Larry silently making demands, all the vices her ex possessed crashed with a sensation of doom, her weakness. A place she promised she wouldn’t go again.
She wanted to yell at Larry for telling her what to do, for tracking her by phone––if indeed he had. A piece of her felt violated while a small portion, a minute part, had to admit to liking the attention.
“I don’t know what you expect from me.”
She flinched. Larry’s low masculine voice surprised her.
The sound of a motor neared. Celine and Steve climbed into a truck, with ‘McDowell Brothers’ stenciled on the side, and drove away. She shifted her gaze to Celine’s car, still propped up on one side.
“They’re heading to a garage to patch the tire,” Larry said.
She nodded and locked gazes with Larry. “I don’t expect anything.”
He stepped closer. Incredible heat rushed to her stomach. “Yes, you do.”
The innuendo of his comment mixed with the sensual overtures of his voice flooded her face. She dug deep to dismiss the erotic feeling. “Not only do you tell me what to do, you also know what I think.” The belligerent words flew out before she thought twice. She meant to confront him, but not in a harsh tone.
Hurt tore across his face before his grim features lessened and his expression went deadpan.
“I didn’t mean what I said.”
He remained silent, his face neutral.
Once again, she wondered if this was his way of saying he made a choice. He had given her a second chance by saying she knew what she wanted, and yet again, she blew it. Reading his mind was impossible. Understanding hers was worse. She didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do.
Charlene stared at his incredibly attractive face, wanting him to say something, anything so she might have an inkling of how to field his reaction.
“When they return, I’ll give you a ride home,” he finally said.
Holding onto the board like a lifeline, she stared after him walking toward Celine’s car. The cold, flat tone of his voice reminded her once again of Andrew. Wanting a reaction out of him, she hissed, “More manipulation.”
His body went rigid.
Moving on from stupidity and fear, she latched onto anger, and shoved off the fence. Time to get this over: the quicker the fantasy was put to rest, the faster she moved on with her life.
Her irritation picked up velocity. Love was a freaking waste of time. People got hurt too easily. She swallowed, preparing for his onslaught of words, expecting him to handle their argument the way Andrew did. By the time Andrew would finish his rant, he’d have stirred up her feelings of incompetence, doubts, and guilt. This time, she’d be stronger. She dug her heels into the ground, determined not to show a sign of weakness and to keep her wayward body parts in check.
Larry turned. His eyes narrowed as he approached. She assumed he’d stop a few feet away to yell, but his imposing body came closer. The passion reflected in his eyes surprised her and shocked her, convincing her feet to move backwards until she hit the fence.
Again, she’d lost control.
She had to restrain herself. Setting her hands on her hips, she jutted her chin upward in a wa
y that dared him to come closer.
It didn’t work.
He eliminated the distance between them and grasped the fence on either side, caging her in. The heat of his body seeped through her thin cotton shirt. Her resolve weakened.
“Andrew…manipulation…You used words to hurt me?” The annoyance in his voice was measured. “Why? What have I done to you? I’d think you would be grateful for someone staying with you while the narcotic in your blood stream weakened, rather than tossing allegations like stones.”
She stared, dumbfounded, but his voice didn’t rise. He didn’t throw words to get even, just said what mattered.
He hesitated and angled his head. She wasn’t sure what he would do next.
“Do you think for one second accusations would stop me from doing what I know is right?”
She imagined he waited for an answer. Andrew never did. He yelled, did what he wanted, and never asked her opinion about his actions.
“I don’t know what’s going through your head right now,” Larry said, his voice stern, yet quiet, “but I deserve an answer if we have any chance to remain friends.”
She’d put this argument into motion, so why did it hurt when he pulled the ‘friend, not lovers’ card? “What are you saying?” Her voice broke more than she liked, exposing how much he got to her.
“Simple. You think so little of me you compared me to your ex-husband. Saying I’m manipulative…” He rammed a hand through his hair and looked away, the movement stretching and flexing his muscles under the camel-colored shirt. His scowl locked on hers. “Your impression of me is the opposite of what mine is of you.”
A car passed. She blinked and remained quiet.
His gaze slipped to her mouth.
She wanted to be mad, tried to stay irritated to break off the thread of a relationship they had left, but was so enamored, her mind ceased to work. Any corrupt emotions vanished and more of her resolve chipped away. “I know.”
His eyes bore into hers, and an expression she couldn’t identify skimmed his features. “Careful what you say.” Heated breath brushed across her face. Shifting closer, his chest brushed her breasts, causing her nipples to do the happy dance. “Say only what you mean.” The authoritative tone lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Or say nothing.”
Again, he told her what to do, but the yearning in his eyes stole her strength to call him on it.
His scrumptious lips gave her no choice except to nod.
“I protect, Charlene. It’s what I do. I damn well will protect you.” His mouth came down over hers. His taste, the gentleness of his mouth…the swooning she experienced earlier replayed. A moan broke the connection a moment before his gaze flicked to hers. An odd, yet exhilarating spark passed between them, leaving her with a sense of emptiness if she didn’t kiss him again.
He lowered his head, giving her the king of all kisses. Her legs turned to mush. Larry slid his hands around her back until they settled on her rear. Hard muscles and other interesting features she wanted to become intimate with skimmed her legs.
The sound of a motor defused the moment, splitting them apart. A black Chevelle parked behind the car.
“Understand?” He cocked an eyebrow.
No way was he using his slick moves to convince her to listen. Ready to tell him what she thought, she jabbed her hands on her hips.
Grinning, he kissed the tip of her nose and slid his fingers down her neck, lower, toward the swells of her breasts. “I want to finish what we kicked off,” he whispered, moving his hands to her waist, and nibbled on her ear lobe.
A knot formed in her throat. “Kicked off?”
“Larry, we’ve got to go.” Jake’s voice interrupted. “Charlene, drive my car. I’ll get it later.” Jake tossed her the key to his car. She snatched the ring out of the air a second before it hit her.
“Quick hands,” Larry ribbed.
She smiled and looked at Jake. “You sure? It’s your baby.”
“My baby works at The Memory Café.” Jake winked.
Larry placed a finger on her cheek and nudged her until she locked gazes with him. “Okay if I come by later?”
The promise of what was yet to come lingered. Her insides boogied. “Okay.”
Chapter Seven
Larry disconnected the call from the FBI office manager, Missy, and set his phone in the console. His grip tightened on the wheel. “Another anonymous tip.”
“What’s it this time?” Jake asked from the Suburban’s passenger seat.
“Illegal plants at Greenwood Manor,” Larry said, his brain wanting to stay fixed on Charlene and not the case. Her confusion, hurt, and then her desire detained his attention. Watching her expressions change so vividly spoke volumes for her mental state. Damaged, like him. He wanted to pull her into his arms, shield her from the bad in the world, and comfort her to make her troubles disappear, the thoughts tempted and daunted.
“Wonder if the tipster is calling out of revenge.” Jake’s voice pulled him from profound thought. “Or perhaps they want to take over the operation, or something else more sinister.”
“The something else has me concerned,” Larry said.
A half mile from Greenwood Manor, Larry pulled into a country store parking lot next to a McDowell Brothers’ Construction truck. Mark McDowell sat behind the wheel, Steve next to him.
Larry rolled down his window and propped his arm on the door. “Hi, Mark.”
“How’s it going?” Jake called out to his longtime friend.
Mark pushed up his Panama hat with a finger. “Hey, guys! You ready to go on a fishing trip?”
Larry pressed his lips together. With the workload sitting on his desk, and now with the manor situation, he doubted he could take time off. Truth be told, he didn’t want to leave Charlene. A few days’ fishing trip, with little to no cell service, wouldn’t work. His gut demanded for him to stay close. “Not anytime soon, I can’t.”
Jake leaned forward and turned down the chattering police radio. “Ditto, Panama Jack.”
“Told ya they wouldn’t take off,” Steve said and slid out of the construction truck. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You bet, buddy.” Mark focused back on Larry and Jake. “You guys are sticks in the mud.”
“Not everyone can take time off whenever they want.”
“Jake, did you forget you’re the boss?”
Jake chuckled, halfheartedly. “The detective agency is trying to find its feet. If one of these guys,” he nodded toward Steve and Larry, “would join, then I can take off.”
“Well, hell, that won’t work,” Mark said, looking in his rearview mirror. “We’re all supposed to go. Paul, too.”
Larry looked behind Mark’s truck. A woman with brown shoulder-length hair approached.
“Gotta go. You guys call me when you get a life.” Mark saluted and drove off before the woman reached him.
“Another woman bites the dust.” Jake laughed. “One day, he’ll stop running.”
Steve smiled at the woman and climbed into the backseat of the Suburban behind Larry. “I have the key for the lock on the side gate. Take the next right.”
Larry put the Suburban in gear. “Did you get the tire patched?”
“Yes. Mark helped,” Steve said. “Celine’s employee at Fredericksburg Tourist called in sick. She had to go in.”
Jake snapped his fingers. “What’s the employee’s name?”
“Hell, if I know,” Steve muttered.
“He’s always hitting on her,” Larry chimed in, trying to rile Steve.
“Didn’t they go out once?” Jake asked.
“Shut up.” Steve bristled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Or do we?” Larry laughed and turned off the road to a dirt path leading to an entrance.
With Steve as gatekeeper and Larry and Jake watching the area for anything that might stand out as strange, they passed through the entrance quickly.
Steve slipped back into his
seat. “Park behind the rows of trees.”
Larry drove through straw grass, followed a path made by a vehicle, and parked the Suburban behind the trees. In front of him, woodland stretched out separated by patches of grass. Off to the right, woods; to the left, an open pasture.
Larry opened the door and slid out. Smell of grass, manure, and mud assaulted his senses. Knee-high grass brushed his legs and crunched under his steel-toe boots. “Have you guys been back here before?”
“Not this far back,” Steve said.
“Nope.” Jake unclipped his magazine, looked at the bullets, and clicked it back in place. “Heard coyotes run wild. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“What’s up with you?” Steve moved a branch out of his way. “Why would you have to check to see if you had bullets in your gun? Where’d you think they went?”
“Never know,” Jake slipped his gun in the back waistband of his jeans.
“Say it’s not so.” Steve paused. “Is Pamela not letting you load it before you leave the house?”
Jake chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Your routine’s broken,” Larry said. “Messes with a guy.”
“It is, but not because she won’t let me load it.”
“Ah, she’s letting you load something else, distracting you.” Steve chuckled and shifted before Jake’s fist connected with his shoulder.
“The tip insisted a trailer held illegal drugs. It’s supposedly located in the wooded area close to the main road.” Larry pointed to the grove of trees fenced off from the open pasture. “Let’s check it out first.”
“Damn, that’s a hike.” Jake unlatched an aluminum gate. They followed.
Larry took in the cows scattered across the field. “Where’d the livestock come from? They weren’t here last night?”
“Don’t know,” Jake said. “Paul mentioned the land wasn’t ready for livestock. He’s anxious to get his horses over here. There’s more riding area here than on the farm where he boards them.”
“Paul still rides?” Steve asked. “When does he have the time?”
