Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10)

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Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10) Page 2

by Jessica Prince


  I felt my lips pull up in a smile, something I hadn’t done a whole lot of in my life until recently. “That’s the very definition of being dramatic, Micah.”

  “Whatever,” he continued to pout.

  I moved to him and lifted up on my toes, placing a kiss against his cheek. “I’ll call more often. Promise.” He was being totally ridiculous, I knew that, but if a little more effort on my part was all it took to put him at ease, I’d do it. I owed him more than I could ever say. He’d saved me in more ways than one. He proved there actually were people in this world who were trustworthy, he’d given me a family and a place where I felt like I belonged, and I’d forever be in his debt for that.

  “That’s all I ask.” His arm came around my shoulders, and he gave me a slight squeeze before putting me in a playful headlock. “Now let’s eat. All that worrying really worked up an appetite.”

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte

  “All right, love bug. It’s bath time.” I heard Hayden’s voice above Ivy’s adorable little giggle and stopped us both mid-spin, turning to face the back patio where we’d all moved after dinner.

  Hayden and Micah had been sitting on one of the million pieces of lawn furniture that were scattered throughout the large, impressive back garden while Ivy and I had been playing tag.

  “Ah man.” Ivy’s bottom lip came out in an impressive pout as I rested her weight against my hip and carried her back to her mom. “Just a little longer, Mommy? Please?”

  Hayden arched a single brow, completely unmoved by her daughter’s cartoonishly adorable doe eyes and wobbly bottom lip. “Nope. Bath then bed, Miss Thing. Now say goodbye to Aunt Charlie and get a move on.”

  She cupped my cheeks in her tiny little hands and twisted my face back to hers, squishing them together until my lips puckered. “Night, Auntie Charlie. Love you.”

  That was something Ivy had been tacking on since the second time she met me, and just like it did every single time I heard it, my heart melted into a puddle right in the center of my chest.

  “Love you too, munchkin,” I lisped through my fish lips.

  She gave me a kiss on the tip of my nose just before I put her back down on her sparkly little boots, then skipped off toward the back door.

  Hayden shot me a wink and followed after her as I headed for one of the rockers covered in overstuffed cushions. I snuggled in, bringing one foot up into the seat while using the other to set the chair in motion. Across from me, Micah was kicked back and enjoying another beer. Grabbing the glass of wine I’d abandoned earlier in order to play with Ivy, I brought it to my lips and took a sip.

  “Man, that little monster loves the hell out of you,” Micah observed.

  “She loves everybody. Pretty sure it’s just because I let her sucker me out of ten bucks the first time we met.” I was attempting to downplay it, but I couldn’t lie; that was nice to hear. I hadn’t had a whole lot of that in my life, so I still wasn’t quite used to it, but I was getting there—or trying my best to, at least.

  “Nah, she can con people out of their hard-earned cash, then walk away without looking back. It’s because of how good you are with her.”

  Damn, that was nice to hear too.

  “Yeah, well, she’s an easy kid to be good with. I like her more than I like most grownups.”

  His chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “Yeah, I get that.”

  He watched me like he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how to voice it. Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back against the chair, letting the light breeze skitter across my face, but even then, I could still feel Micah’s scrutinizing gaze on me.

  I let out a sigh and mumbled, “Just say what you have to say already.”

  His voice was several octaves lower when he spoke next, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear what he was about to say. “I know we haven’t talked about this since the hospital, but have you given any thought to trying to find your—”

  My eyelids flew open and I lifted my head to frown at him. “No,” I interrupted, my clipped tone leaving no room for argument. “And I’m not going to. You promised you’d never bring it up again.”

  He pulled his legs back, bending his knees and leaning forward to brace his elbows on them. Micah gave me a hard, determined look. “No, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I haven’t. I never promised I wouldn’t bring it up.” His expression changed, sympathy and a hint of sadness washing over his features, making the hard a bit softer. “Charlie, you have a—”

  “Stop it.”

  “Sister,” he finished, refusing to listen to me. “You have family out there somewhere, and I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to be a part of your life.”

  My throat suddenly grew dry, the lump forming inside of it making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t know that,” I croaked.

  “Yes I do,” he insisted, those three words holding more passion and intensity than I expected. “I do know, because that’s exactly how I’ve felt every damn day since I met you. It’s how Hayden feels, and Ivy, and every person you’ve let in and shown the real you.”

  I sniffled, trying my hardest to beat back the tears burning the backs of my eyes. I wasn’t a crier. I’d learned a long time ago not to waste my time with tears because they wouldn’t get me anywhere.

  His jaw clenched with determination. “You have it in your head that you’re cursed or something, that you’re a bad person who doesn’t deserve good things because you’ve made mistakes, and I’m telling you now, that’s bullshit,” he spat vehemently. “You aren’t cursed and you aren’t a bad person. Anyone, and I mean anyone, would be lucky to know you. If you just said the word, I could find her for you.”

  I hated how our nice, relaxing evening had turned into something so intense, but I’d have been lying to myself if I said I hadn’t been expecting it. Micah had a tendency to dig in at times. It was the detective in him, always wanting to uncover the truth, get to the bottom of a mystery.

  “I don’t know much about being a cop, but I’m pretty sure using the department’s resources for personal reasons is frowned on.”

  “All right,” he conceded, knowing I had him there, but then something flashed in his eyes and one brow lifted up on his forehead. “But there is someone else who could do it.”

  My heart pitched in my chest, banging painfully against my breastbone. “Micah—”

  “He’s still asking questions,” he stated. “He’s not gonna stop, and I can’t blame him. He was the one responsible for keeping you safe. You snuck out on his watch to meet up with Cormack and nearly fucking died, for Christ’s sake. Man like Dalton, you think he’ll be okay never knowing why?”

  No. No, he wouldn’t.

  Just hearing Dalton’s name made my skin tingle and tighten. I wasn’t sure when I’d stop having such an acute physical reaction when it came to all things Dalton Prescott, but I hoped like hell it would happen soon, because this was getting ridiculous.

  All smiles, Hayden came out the back door a few seconds later, putting an end to an uncomfortable conversation I didn’t want to have in the first place. She took a seat next to her fiancé, cuddling up against him. “So what did I miss? You want a refill, Charlie?” She tipped her chin toward my glass. I looked down, noticing it was almost empty.

  “Actually, I should probably head out.” Uncurling from my chair, I set my wineglass on the small table beside me and stood.

  She looked up at me, her smile falling in disappointment. “You sure? You’re welcome to stay.”

  “I’m getting a little tired. But thanks for dinner; it was great.” I leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “Oh. Okay. Well, get some sleep. We’ll talk later, yeah? And I was talking to some of the girls about going to Whiskey Dolls one night this week to see you perform.”

  Thanks to Hayden all but dragging me out of my shell the past several months, I’d gone from having no girlfriends whatsoever to having more than I could keep up wit
h, and one of them was a woman named McKenna. She and I were a bit of kindred spirits in the sense that we’d both been screwed over by Malachi Black in a nasty way. Only Mac had rebounded a hell of a lot better than I did.

  She was a former stripper who, with her husband, had taken the closed down strip club and turned it into a burlesque club that was so popular, people came from all over the state, standing in a line that nearly wrapped around the building almost every night. After my wounds had healed, I’d gone with Hayden to a couple pole classes McKenna instructed, and we’d hit it off instantly. Now I was a performer at Whiskey Dolls three nights a week. I was pulling in pretty decent money, working the only legitimate job I’d had in a very, very long time and loving it.

  “Sounds good. Just let me know what night and I’ll make sure you have the best table in the house.”

  Micah placed a kiss against the crown of Hayden’s head and stood up, announcing, “I’ll walk you out,” knowing I’d draw suspicion from Hayden if I argued.

  We moved through the house in silence, but I swore I could hear him stewing with every step we took.

  “Look, Char, I’m sorry,” he started, reaching around to rub the back of his neck.

  I stopped next to my car and turned to look at him. “Micah, stop. There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

  “I was pushing you—”

  “It’s cool.” One corner of my mouth hooked up in a smirk. “I mean, it’s kind of what you do. You’re a bossy pain in the ass most of the time.”

  He rolled his eyes and let out a short chuckle before reaching out and pulling me into his chest for a tight hug. “It’s just ’cause I care. I hope you know that.”

  I gave him a firm squeeze in return. “I know,” I said softly. “And I appreciate it.” I pulled out of his embrace, looking up at him solemnly as I announced, “I hope you know how thankful I am to have you in my life.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” He reached out and ruffled my hair playfully. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  With that sappiness out of the way, I climbed into my car and started it, waving at Micah through the window as I pulled out of their driveway and headed home.

  I tried not to think about Dalton as I navigated my way through town, but after Micah’s mention of him, it was all but impossible.

  It had been six and a half months since I’d woken up in that uncomfortable hospital bed. Six and a half months since I’d convinced myself that whatever I was feeling for him was all kinds of bad and I couldn’t trust it. Six and a half months ago, I’d told Dalton I wanted nothing to do with him and there hadn’t been a single day in all that time where I hadn’t thought about him at least once every hour.

  Turning into my complex, I pulled into the designated spot I paid an extra fifty bucks a month to have and killed the ignition with a long, weary sigh.

  A tingle I was all too familiar with scratched at the back of my neck, making the little hairs stand on end. I knew there was nothing there and that my paranoia was an aftereffect of the life I used to live. However, I couldn’t help but pause after looping my purse on my shoulder, and slowly turned around to scan the parking lot. As usual, there was nothing out of sorts, so I did my best to shake off the lingering feeling of being watched and moved inside the building.

  The door across the hall creaked open just as I unlocked mine and turned the knob. I glanced back over my shoulder, meeting my neighbor’s Coke-bottle gaze, and gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey, Ms. W. It’s just me.”

  Not one to take my word, she did her usual scan of the hallway before determining for herself that it was all good and opening her door wider. “Can’t be too careful,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Could’ve sworn I saw some delinquent types casing the place earlier.”

  Ms. Weatherby saw “delinquent types” on a weekly basis, but I’d learned the first month of living here that trying to convince her that her fears were unfounded was pointless, so I just went with it.

  “Well, whoever they were, they’re gone now, and everything’s safe and sound,” I placated.

  She hesitated for a beat, doing another scan. “Well, you can never be too careful.”

  In her case, that was a bit of a stretch, but I kept my opinion to myself. “True enough. Goodnight, Ms. W.”

  “Same to you. If you have time tomorrow, swing by for that lemonade.”

  I suppressed my shiver and smiled at the little old lady while resigning myself to my fate because I didn’t have the heart to turn her down twice, so I knew I’d be having lemonade with her at some point tomorrow.

  “You got it.”

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte

  Giving my bottom lip one last swipe of shiny crimson lipstick, I leaned back to inspect my handiwork. Makeup wasn’t really my thing. I’d always been the bare minimum kind of girl, usually only using mascara and clear gloss or lip balm, but working at Whiskey Dolls required I put in a lot more effort.

  It had taken two months and several impromptu makeup lessons from the other girls, but as I twisted my face this way and that to make sure I didn’t have a big, cakey foundation line along my jaw, I thought I might have finally gotten the hang of it. I’d managed to rock a deep smoky eye, my fake lashes were glued on in the correct place, and even the wing I’d created with the sticky black liquid eyeliner looked pretty damn good.

  My long, dark blonde hair hung down my shoulders and back in big fat curls with a ton of volume up top. The deep red corset adorned with black lace appliqués pushed my boobs up, giving the illusion that I was working with a lot more than was actually there. My “costume” was completed with teeny tiny black Lycra boy shorts, fishnet stockings, and laced-up biker boots with chunky three-inch heels.

  It felt like I was playing dress-up each night I came in and got all dolled up, part of what I loved about working here. At Whiskey Dolls, I got to be Charlotte, one in a line of talented dancers who seduced and entertained the crowd from the stage. Not Charlie, the girl who’d made one shitty decision after another and didn’t have much of anything to show for her twenty-five years on this earth.

  The door to the dressing room swung open, and McKenna came sauntering in, heading straight for my station.

  “Hey, babe. How’s it going?”

  Having experienced a trauma of her own—one that was linked to mine in a whole lot of ways—Mac had a tendency to keep a closer eye on me than my other friends. She never made it obvious, but I knew the reason she came back to shoot the shit with me each shift was because she wanted to check on me. It was her way of keeping her finger on my pulse to make sure I was good and hadn’t slipped into a dark pit of depression or something.

  “Hey. I’m good. You?”

  “No complaints here. The club is packed and the drinks are flowing, which means Bruce’ll probably pull the trigger on that diamond tennis bracelet he plans on buying me any day now.”

  I arched one of my perfectly sculpted and penciled brows. “How do you know he’s planning on buying you a bracelet?”

  She gave me a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and winked. “I love my man like crazy, but he thinks he’s cleverer than he actually is. He used my laptop to do the search and saved it to my bookmarks.”

  My head fell back on a deep laugh. “Well, clever or not, you’ve got a good man. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Her eyes sparkled just like they did every time she thought about her husband. “Believe me, I won’t. And speaking of good men, one in particular just came through the doors about ten minutes ago requesting a table facing the stage.”

  She gave me a knowing look, causing my palms to grow clammy as a swarm of butterflies burst to life in my belly, their wings kicking up a storm of emotion.

  Every time he came in, McKenna made it a point to let me know he was in the audience, and every time, I turned into a bundle of nerves. We hadn’t spoken in six and a half months, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t seen him. He’d become a semi-regular patron of the club, and I had a
feeling I knew why.

  Even after all this time, he was still keeping me safe. It never failed that, after each shift, I’d step out the back door into the lot behind the club and spot him leaning against his truck, watching like a hawk as I headed for my car. He’d stay where he was, completely unmoving, until I got my door unlocked and climbed inside. As soon as I started it up and put it in gear, he’d climb into his truck and follow me toward the exit. Then he’d make a left turn out after I turned right, disappear for another couple days, and I’d be left wondering when he’d pop up next, part of me hoping it would be soon while the other part prayed he’d stop. It was a constant internal battle.

  Alma, one of the other dancers, came click-clacking over in her sky-high heels and took a seat at the station right beside mine. “Uh-oh. Charlotte’s whole face just turned that sickly shade of white,” she teased, looking at Mac. “I’m guessing you told her that hot hunk of beefcake just came in?”

  All the girls I worked with knew my situation before I’d started at Whiskey Dolls. Hope Valley and the surrounding towns were so small that everyone knew everyone’s business. What I went through was a big deal. Like McKenna, a lot of these ladies had been strippers back when this place was the Pink Palace—that name was major blech. Seeing as that place had been shut down when Malachi—the owner at the time—got his ass locked up, I was somewhat of a local celebrity in their eyes since I helped to take down the last remnants of his operation when his shady cop partner took it over.

  Because of that, and the fact that they were smart and shrewd as hell, they took notice of my reaction the very first time Mac said his name. With their curiosity piqued, they started paying closer attention. It didn’t take them long to spot the fine-as-hell man who, coincidentally, would show up right before my first set and disappear like smoke as soon as my last one ended.

 

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