by Lori Foster
She loved animals, always had and always would. Hearing the story was devastating enough—but knowing Mitch had suffered Newman as well? Unbearable.
Just as he’d rescued Brute, she wished for a way to rescue Mitch. He was here now, with family.
Would that be enough?
“Brute was a little thing, his bones showing under his flesh. I thought he might bite, not from aggression but more out of desperation, you know?”
Biting her lip, Charlotte nodded her understanding. Desperation made animals—and people—do things they could regret.
“Instead he literally crawled to me on his belly, begging for everything. Affection, food, water.” Mitch curled his fingers against Brute, then gave him a firm pat that made the dog’s tail wag. “He was the only thing I took from the house. I went back later and buried the other two dogs before unloading the house on the state. Brute and I... Well, I’m all he has.”
“Not anymore.” Swiping away a tear, Ros smiled at the dog. “Now you both have family.”
Mitch’s frown was more ferocious than ever.
After refilling coffee cups, whether anyone wanted more coffee or not, Brodie paused by Mitch’s chair. His expression firm, his tone somber, he stated, “We’re glad you’re both here.” He clasped Mitch’s shoulder. “Glad.”
Taken aback by that, Mitch shook his head. “I find that so damn hard to believe.”
“Only because you don’t know them better.” Charlotte swiped at her own damp cheeks. “They’re all pretty terrific.”
“Right—they’re terrific, but my past...”
“Is in your past, right?” Brodie put away the carafe, and on his way back to his seat, he added, “We start now.”
Not buying it, Mitch looked from one face to another, and seemed distrustful of the encouraging smiles. “I appreciate...whatever this is—”
“Acceptance,” Jack said simply. “You’re a brother. Our brother. End of story.”
“—but you have to have more questions,” he finished firmly. “A ton of them, I imagine.”
“Expect us to grill you, huh?”
“Of course I do.” With palpable frustration, Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “Unless you tell me half brothers pop up all the time, none of it makes sense.”
“Fine,” Jack said, all accommodating and smooth. “I have questions.”
And, Charlotte thought, here we go.
* * *
NO MATTER HOW Mitch tried to resist her, Charlotte drew his gaze, again and again. He fought it, and still it happened.
He hadn’t come here to see her. Hell, he hadn’t even known she was in the picture. Elliott mostly talked about his perfect wife and the two sons he was so proud of.
Unlike him, Charlotte wasn’t an outsider.
But she wasn’t family either and maybe that made a difference. With her, he didn’t feel as cautious. She was too friendly, too...soft, for him to see her as anything other than a woman.
The fact that she openly stared at him didn’t help either.
Even now, she watched him like she’d never seen a man before—or she liked what she saw.
Absurd. If big muscular guys were her type, she had two sterling examples that she worked with every day.
As Rosalyn had said, Mitch looked more like Elliott than they did. Also, neither of them wore the taint of imprisonment, an invisible filth he could never wash away.
That made them more appropriate for Charlotte, and yet they’d married other women.
If Charlotte hadn’t been interested in them, why was she devouring him with those sky-blue eyes? He glanced at her again, caught her gaze, and damn it, he felt a connection sizzle along his spine.
He’d never felt anything like it, a combo of sharp awareness, affinity, and...need.
He looked away.
Even though Brute had returned to his side, Charlotte stayed on the floor. It was distracting as hell, that was the problem. What woman sat on the floor while the men all sat comfortably in chairs? Neither Brodie nor Jack seemed to notice or care, and it wasn’t Mitch’s place to get her sweet little butt in a proper seat—though he had tried.
And failed.
When Jack hesitated, Mitch decided to get the ball rolling. “Seriously. I didn’t expect to get this far.” In their offices, sitting together with coffee and cookies? Nope, not something he’d ever imagined. “You got questions, go for it.”
Brodie turned his chair to straddle it. “I’ll go first. What did you expect?”
Damn. He couldn’t say for sure, but based off his usual experiences... “Anger. Disinterest.” He glanced at Rosalyn, but that remarkable lady left him humbled so he looked away. “Maybe resentment.”
Earnest, Brodie nodded. “Yeah, I get those expectations. But know this, the only reason anyone’s pissed is because Dad never said anything.”
“I’m definitely furious about that,” Rosalyn said. “Elliott has a lot of failings that I’ve overlooked through the years. This crosses a line, though.”
Of course it did, and he hated that his actions might have caused Rosalyn discomfort. “I hadn’t planned on meeting you, so I didn’t think you’d ever know.” He also hadn’t counted on meeting Charlotte. Whenever Elliott had mentioned that name, it was only in the context of an employee. Eliott had called her sweet, but that didn’t even begin to cover it. Since he first laid eyes on her, his plans had gone off the rails.
Add in this uncomfortable stuff with Rosalyn, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
As if avoiding his mom was somehow hilarious, Jack laughed. “So what was the plan?”
“Meet the two of you. Really, that’s all there was to it. I thought I’d introduce myself, and take it from there. But then I met her—” he shrugged toward Charlotte without quite looking at her “—and everyone showed up. If I’d realized the association, I wouldn’t have—” He tripped over his own tongue, drawing to a fast halt.
“Hit on her?” Brodie prompted.
And predictably, Charlotte growled, “Why can’t you stop being an ass for five minutes?”
“What? It’s been half an hour.”
Jack grinned. Even Ros smiled. Mitch had a feeling that if he gave in and looked at Charlotte, she’d be blushing again.
Were they really amused instead of furious that he’d come on to her? Or maybe they thought his interest had died—as it should have—the moment he realized the connection? “That’s not exactly what happened.” He hadn’t officially come on to her—although if he’d had a little more time... “I saw she had car trouble, and then two guys from the bar—”
“He offered me help,” Charlotte blurted. “That’s all.”
But Jack and Brodie had already stiffened, their gazes turning on her with accusation.
It was Rosalyn who asked, “What guys from the bar?”
Charlotte groaned, and he realized she’d wanted that part of the evening kept private.
Obviously, these two were the men she’d used to threaten Bernie. She might have qualms about outing the little weasel and his pal, but Mitch didn’t.
His look warned her of what was to come, then he said to Brodie, “Squirrelly little dude named Bernie pressed her. He and a pal were stinking drunk and saying things they shouldn’t.”
Brodie’s eyes narrowed. “What things?”
Jack snorted. “You know Bernie, so you can imagine. I’ll have a talk with him.”
“You had your chance and he’s still an ass-hat. This time I’ll talk to him.”
“Yeah,” Jack conceded. “You may be right.”
Shooting to her feet, Charlotte startled them all. “Neither of you will do a damn thing. God, is it any wonder I’m ignored around here?”
Ignored? Seriously? Were all the men in town—present company excluded—total fools? What red-blooded hetero dude
would meet Charlotte and not want her?
Rosalyn examined a nail. “Mitch didn’t ignore you.”
Oh, shit. All eyes turned on him so he held up his hands. “That’s because I didn’t know.”
“See?” With a growl, Charlotte stormed out.
Curiosity, that odd connection, something glued his gaze to her and he swiveled on his seat to watch her go. Anger added an extra sway to her hips.
She reached the end of the hallway and instead of pushing the doors open and going outside, she suddenly stopped. Narrow back going stiff, she jerked around to stare toward him.
He recognized mortification when he saw it.
So she’d blown up and stormed away? Big deal. Did she think he’d consider it childish? Petty? She shouldn’t.
The lady could make an exit or an entrance, and he’d only notice her softness, her appeal.
Her sensuality.
He excelled at making women feel good.
With Charlotte, he could make her weep with pleasure. That’s what he thought about, nothing else.
Blindly reaching behind her, she braced a hand on the door.
Yeah, Mitch thought. I’m not going anywhere. New possibilities occurred to him, ideas beyond family.
Carnal ideas—wait, what? Slamming the brakes on that heated line of thought, he jerked around to face Brodie and Jack, knowing they’d see his guilt.
Knowing they’d want to run him out of town to protect Charlotte.
They still watched her, not him.
“That’s right,” Brodie said low, as if speaking to himself, “now you gotta come back.”
“She’ll strangle you if she does,” Jack warned. “I might help.”
Mitch let out a breath.
At least they weren’t thinking of strangling him.
If he kept fantasizing over her, then they might...and yet, he wasn’t sure he could stop.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROSALYN PUSHED BACK her chair. “I’ll go talk to her.” She pointed at Jack and Brodie. “You two better knock it off.”
Brodie said, “Yes, Mom,” while Jack asked, “What did I do?”
To Mitch, Rosalyn said, “Don’t go anywhere.” She patted his shoulder and then she too left the room.
Since the brothers still stared down the hallway after Charlotte, Mitch gave in to the urge to do the same. He turned in time to see her plow out the door, Rosalyn following close behind her.
Seeing her grit left him with a stupid smile on his face. The brothers treated her like a little sister, but he saw her as so much more. Last night, she’d held her own against Bernie. Hell, she’d known exactly how to handle him too—until the rest of the family had shown up.
He’d like the opportunity to learn more about her. She was an amazing cook, an energetic dynamo, a woman with great intuition and a heart so big, even his apprehensive dog had fallen for her. All in all, she fascinated him—and she made him forget his troubles.
When was the last time he’d smiled so much? Too long ago to remember.
“If we don’t get coffee tomorrow,” Jack grumbled at Brodie, “it’ll be your fault.”
“Yeah, probably.” He dropped back in his seat and said to Mitch, “It’s like she grew up overnight, you know?”
Uh, no, he didn’t, but Brodie’s comment reinforced the idea that he saw her as a sister—which Mitch appreciated. “She has to be mid-twenties, right?” Please let her be mid-twenties.
“Twenty-five,” Jack confirmed. “Though Brodie likes to think she’s still sixteen.”
“Twenty-five,” Brodie mused. He rubbed his face and added, “Damn.”
With no idea of the problem, Mitch waited for Brodie to continue. Didn’t take long at all.
“She was always quiet, not really shy but super self-contained. Guys didn’t pay much attention to her, which was fine by me, and then bam! All of a sudden every jackass around is eyeballing her, and they’re all wrong for her.”
“Including Bernie?” Not that it was in question. Charlotte herself had set Bernie straight, and made her disdain loud and clear. The lady didn’t suffer fools—or drunken idiocy.
“Bernie is definitely not for her,” Jack confirmed. “But Brodie doesn’t think anyone is good enough.”
“And you do?” Brodie challenged.
With a shrug, Jack said, “Up to now? No.”
They both looked at him.
Mitch didn’t know if that was a warning or a question.
He did know, without a single doubt, that he wasn’t good enough for her—but acknowledging it rubbed him wrong. Did she deserve more? From what he knew of her so far, hell yes.
Would he let that stop him?
Hard to say.
He wanted to know his brothers, to maybe be a part of their lives. He had a hunger inside him, a desire to belong. As a young man, he’d refused to acknowledge it.
Prison hadn’t been good for much, but it did give him time to prioritize, to do some soul searching and come to grips with his life, his mistakes... It helped him put things in perspective.
He wanted family. Today, at least, he’d made progress on that, more progress than he’d dared to hope for.
Letting brothers dictate to him though? Yeah, not sure how he felt about that one.
“How old are you?” Jack asked him.
“Twenty-nine.” Not too old for Charlotte, though sometimes he felt ancient.
“Ever been married?” Brodie asked.
The line of questioning had taken a sharp turn. He shook his head. “Never been all that involved with any woman.” He looked them in the eyes and gave an uncomfortable truth. “When I think of the future though, what I want and what I’m willing to work for, settling down seems the logical way to go.”
“Logical?” They looked at each other and laughed. Scooting his chair, Brodie got closer and then slung an arm around his shoulders. “Let me tell ya about marriage, okay?”
Odd, how comfortable Brodie felt with him. On the one hand, he could count the attitude as progress. On the other...he wasn’t big on people touching him.
Except maybe Charlotte. Her touch had been both a balm and enticement rolled into one.
Jack guffawed at Brodie’s show. “You? You’re going to explain marriage?”
“And why wouldn’t I? Mary is living bliss.”
“Is that what you call it?” Jack lounged back with a secretive smile. “If you want to know about making it all work, I’m the one you want to talk to.”
Brodie started to speak, then conceded the point. “Ronnie would gut me if I said otherwise.”
Their antics amused him. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to learn more about a normal marriage. He knew what he wanted—a place to call home, a faithful wife and a couple of kids he could love the right way.
What that actually entailed, he couldn’t say. He sure as hell hadn’t experienced anything like it. Hearing from Elliott was the closest he’d ever come to hearing about love—and he’d been cheating on a great woman like Ros, and ignoring his legit sons.
That negated much of what he’d said.
“I’ve done things...” That path would lead to more questions, some that he didn’t want to answer, so Mitch switched gears. “I know I’ve made mistakes. Too many to count.”
“Seems to me,” Jack offered quietly, “you didn’t have a ton of options.”
Unlike some of the prisoners Mitch had known, he had no intention of using his shitty upbringing as an excuse to be a dick. Not then, and not now. “There are always options.” Leaving his seat, and displacing Brodie’s arm from his shoulders, he moved around the narrow free space in the room. Not really pacing, but too agitated to sit. “That’s behind me now. You have my word, for what’s it worth.”
For him, the past would be a lesson on what not to do. Any kid of his
would have it all. Love, acceptance. Security. Protection. One way or another, he’d ensure those things.
Until today, he hadn’t met a woman who seemed the right type to help with that—but given their wary expressions, Mitch wasn’t about to bring Charlotte into this discussion. Better to keep his vague intentions private.
“Your word is good enough.”
Disbelieving, maybe afraid to believe, he stared at Jack and saw stark honesty in his dark gaze. That didn’t make sense, so he glanced at Brodie...and saw the same.
Shaking his head, a little in denial, partially to clear his thoughts, Mitch marveled at them. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You could tell us you plan to settle here,” Brodie ventured. “That’d be a good start.”
“I do.” He didn’t tell them it was a done deal—not until he had something more to show for it. “Seems like a good place.” The people were casual and friendly, a little too curious about new faces, and hardworking. He liked the atmosphere. He liked the area.
He especially liked the idea of calling it home.
“Glad to hear it,” Jack told him, standing also, joined by Brodie. “Why don’t we show you around?”
“There’s an apartment attached at the end of this building,” Brodie said. “Mom raised us there, then I lived there while my house was being built.”
Mitch had no problem with that. He called Brute to him, and they headed out. On their way past the inner office, he spotted Charlotte inside, on the phone, her back to them. How had she gotten back inside without him hearing her?
The answer, of course, was that she’d been sneaky.
Pausing outside the door, he watched as she alternately shuffled papers and jotted notes, all while talking. Brodie and Jack stood by the door, waiting for him. But screw it.
He wouldn’t be sneaky. Raising a hand, he lightly rapped two knuckles on the window.
Jerking around, she stared at him, blinked...and summoned up a smile. Without leaving her seat, she stretched for the door and opened it. For only a second she covered the phone. “You’re not leaving, are you?”