All Fired Up

by Lori Foster

  Experiencing it firsthand left a funny feeling in his chest. It’d probably take time for him to process it. It was...weirdly empowering, when he’d never considered himself a man who needed that. Comforting too, though he’d die before admitting that he needed or wanted comfort.

  He was strong, capable, more than able to stand up for himself in all circumstances. He’d been doing it since he was a kid.

  Ten years from now he’d still be that man; he didn’t know any other way to be.

  And yet, now knowing it would be a choice instead of a necessity lightened something in his heart.

  A heart he’d all but forgotten he had.

  “So.” Elliott rocked on his heels again, then nodded at the way Mitch had his arm around Charlotte’s back. “Did I miss something here?”

  That brought everyone else’s gazes swinging toward them. Eyes widened, then narrowed, not exactly in anger but more like curiosity and sudden keen awareness.

  That’s right. Get used to it, because I’m done waiting.

  Her graceful spine stiffened, but he didn’t let her go. Nope. He wasn’t about to do that.

  Let them look. In fact, he brought his arm to her shoulders in a casual way that still kept her tucked close. “Guess you didn’t,” Mitch said, “since you mentioned it and everything.”

  “I shouldn’t have?”

  He looked at both Brodie and Jack. “Doesn’t matter.”

  In the beginning, he’d meant to hold to their bargain, to give Charlotte space until they gave the go-ahead. But there had to be allowances for extenuating circumstances...like when a father you hadn’t seen for a decade suddenly showed up and his ex-wife, who wasn’t your mother, gave him hell on your behalf.

  Dark eyes glinting, Rosalyn beamed at him.

  In approval?

  What the hell did he know about approval? He hadn’t seen it often enough to be sure. Besides, Ros was a shifty one. He’d yet to understand a single thing she did.

  Clearing his throat, Jack glanced around as if trying to find anything to look at other than his half brother cozying up with his pseudo-sister.

  Yup, he got that it might be unsettling. Overall they still thought of Charlotte as a kid, and God knew he wasn’t anyone’s idea of a proper suitor. Not with his criminal record and...sketchy background.

  He wouldn’t blame them if they switched some of their animosity for Elliott over to his head.

  What happened instead left him a little poleaxed.

  Brodie said, “It’s getting late. We can talk more tomorrow.” The inflection made it clear he had something to say, and yet he didn’t feel the need to say it now.

  Meaning...he didn’t mind that Mitch was still holding Charlotte? Huh.

  “I’m meeting Grant inside.” Ros’s smile didn’t dim, but now that sweet expression had a hint of wickedness to it. When she slanted her dark gaze to Elliott, Mitch understood why. “I’m joining him for a drink. Charlotte, you know where to find me when you’re ready.” She sashayed away, a woman without a care.

  Nonplussed, Elliott looked blankly from face to face before his expression darkened. “Grant? Who the hell is Grant?”

  “Officer Colvin,” Jack explained with smug satisfaction. “You probably remember him. Good guy. Gainfully employed. Solid in the community.”

  Ouch. Seeing the incredulous shock on Elliott’s face, Mitch actually felt bad for him. Then again, he’d created his own role in this farce, and for sure Rosalyn deserved better than an absentee husband.

  Elliott’s mouth opened twice before he managed to croak, “Your mother has a date?”

  “Was a surprise to me too.” Jack grinned. “I’m happy for her.”

  Brodie clasped his dad’s shoulder. “Other men have eyes, Dad. I’m surprised it’s taken her this long.”

  “But...”

  “Ronnie might be creeping this way soon if I don’t get back to her.” Jack lifted a hand in farewell. “Good night, all.”

  “Mary’s waiting up for me too. I should get going.” Brodie let his gaze wander over Mitch’s hold on Charlotte, but not with warning or anger—more like inevitability. “You’ll see that she gets inside with Mom? Colvin will take it from there.”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

  Brodie let his fingertips graze Charlotte’s cheek with affection. “You make a hell of a champion, brat.”

  “I just—”

  “Try not to give him fits, okay? It’s been a crazy night.”

  “I’m aware,” she returned, stepping away to give Brodie a hug. “Besides, I save all my fits for you.”

  Laughing, Brodie looked at Mitch over Charlotte’s head. “I’ll be in touch.” Then he turned and strode away—without saying a word to Elliott.

  Left alone now, Charlotte glanced between Elliott and Mitch. “I should probably head in too.”

  “Not yet.” Disliking the two feet now separating them, Mitch closed the distance, drawing her near and tipping up her chin to look into her eyes.

  He wanted her. Now, always.

  Funny how things had shifted.

  It seemed with every minute that slipped past, the idea of keeping her in his life became more necessary.

  As he got lost in her gaze, his thoughts forming a hazy future, Charlotte held her breath.

  What was she expecting? For him to make out with her here, with Elliott at his back? He smiled. “I need to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” About so many things.

  Everything was different now. Elliott had come and gone peacefully for years. It was Mitch’s presence that had caused the discord, or at least added to it, regardless of what they said. He needed to find a fix—for Elliott and for himself.

  It felt like that should start with Charlotte, which was odd since she wasn’t actually related to Elliott. Thank God.

  Realizing she hadn’t even blinked yet, he whispered, “Breathe, honey.”

  She filled her lungs, managed a smile and exhaled. “Thank you.”

  His attention moved over her face, the soft flawless skin, the narrow nose and that killer mouth that haunted his dreams. He felt like a different person when with her. Better. Less angry at the world and himself. More optimistic about his future.

  A man able to deal with this awkward situation.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered, glancing worriedly at Elliott, who pretended to give them privacy by studying the roof of the bar.

  “I am,” he replied, and meant it. The moment felt very special, an eye-opener for sure, but he’d keep from getting carried away. He owed Brodie and Jack that much. Actually, Charlotte needed to know his intent before she continued...what? Brodie had called her a champion, and that fit.

  She did champion him, so she needed to know how much it meant to him.

  He needed to know her intent too. He could read women, true, and Charlotte gave off a lot of vibes, not the least of which was mutual interest. But this whole situation put a spin on his usual perception. Damned if he’d act out of neediness, or misread compassion for chemistry.

  So he’d talk to her, lay it on the line, let her know what he wanted, now and in the future.

  First, he had to start with tonight. “You’ll give me a few minutes?”

  She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “Well.” Looking around, all in all appearing a little lost, Elliott cleared his throat. “Guess I should, um, get going then.”

  Mitch tried to find the right words—and failed.

  Deafening silence surrounded them.

  “It was good seeing you, Mitch. Real good.” Elliott flashed a quick smile at Charlotte, started to reach out to Mitch but changed his mind, and with a shake of his head, he pivoted and strode across the street, going fast as if he feared he might change his mind, or falter.

  Mitch stared a
fter him, emotions clamoring, loyalties divided.

  Hugging his arm, Charlotte whispered, “It won’t kill Elliott to stay in the hotel.”

  “No.” Still, it felt wrong. Did he even have the money for that?

  “He’s brought all this on himself,” she reminded him gently.

  Mitch nodded. True. Very true.

  With a touch to his chest, she drew his attention, her smile full of perception. “You don’t have to fight yourself, you know. I understand and the others will too.”

  There was something amazing about that, maybe because he had a hard time understanding himself. “You think?”

  “I’m positive,” she promised and gave him a little push. “Go on.”

  Mitch believed her...because this was Charlotte and she was tenderhearted and caring, but also assertive enough that he knew she’d tell him the truth.

  Plus she’d stood by him. Literally.

  “Shit,” he muttered. He clasped her shoulders. “Promise you won’t move.”

  Her smile in place, she agreed.

  “Stay where I can see you.” Newman was still around and he wouldn’t take chances.

  She drew a finger across her heart. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  Waiting for him. That sounded nice. On instinct, Mitch leaned down and pressed his mouth to her forehead. “Thanks.” Ignoring her surprise, he sprinted away.

  On the other side of the street right before the corner, he caught up with Elliott. “Hey.”

  Still with his back to him, Elliott paused and the rigidity eased from his shoulders. Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder before facing Mitch, his expression expectant.

  Shit. Mitch didn’t know what Elliott hoped for, but he hated to disappoint him. “Where will you stay?”

  Two seconds ticked by before Elliott gave his usual careless smile. “My car tonight—and before you think I shouldn’t, it’s something I’ve done before. No biggie, I promise. Tomorrow I’ll figure out something else.”

  “Tomorrow?” Now that sounded interesting.

  “Yeah, see, I plan to stick around for a few days at least.” Briskly rubbing his hands together, he stared toward the bar where Rosalyn had gone. “This wasn’t the time, right? But she and I have things to talk about.”

  Yeah, he could just imagine. Shaking his head, unsure if Elliott would survive another chat with Ros, Mitch offered, “You could come to my place.”

  “Yeah? You at the hotel?”

  “No. I bought a house.” Crazy how much satisfaction he took in saying that. Before everyone had helped to make it livable, he would’ve cringed at the idea of Elliott seeing it.

  And that felt damn pathetic, like he had something to prove to the father who hadn’t stuck around.

  Rather than dwell on his own failings, he said, “There’s plenty of room.”

  “A house, huh? Wow, that’s terrific, son!” Genuinely happy, Elliott put a heavy hand on his shoulder, much as he used to do during his visits when Mitch was just a kid.

  It felt different now, of course. For one thing, his shoulders were no longer skinny. For another, he looked Elliott in the eyes.

  “So you’re settling here? You’ll love the place. It’s always been a nice quiet little town, long as you can tune out the nosy neighbors.”

  “Staying is the plan.” If Newman didn’t screw it all up.

  “It’s where you belong, you know. With your brothers—and yes, with Ros. She was right about that.”

  But not with him? No, Mitch didn’t want to think about Elliott that way. No one was under any illusion that Elliott was the “stick around” kind of dad. “I can show it to you soon as I talk with Charlotte.”

  “I want to see it, but it’ll have to be another time, okay?”

  Elliott preferred sleeping in his car? Now, damn it, that felt like a gut punch. Defensively, he cracked, “Worried about Newman after all, huh?”

  A bittersweet smile curved the mouth of the man he resembled so much. “Forget Newman’s threats. It’s Ros I’m worried about, because she would neuter me for infringing on you. Besides, bastard as I am, even I know it would be wrong. Not after everything else. They’re few and far between, but I do have some scruples.”

  So it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with his respect for Rosalyn’s will? That was sort of...charming?

  Or maybe gutless was the better word choice. Whichever.

  “We’ll get reacquainted,” Elliott promised. “Looking forward to it. But I can’t use you.”

  “Actually, I’d enjoy the company.”

  As if he’d been thrown a lifeline, the dejection left Elliott’s posture and his usual cockiness returned. “You really mean that?”

  He’d said it, hadn’t he? No, he didn’t entirely understand it himself, except that he wanted to build more family, not discard it. That could start with Elliott, and maybe in the process he could bring a little peace between them all.

  It’d be nice to do something positive for this family, instead of complicating their lives.

  “I do. Understand, though, Newman really is around and I don’t know when he’ll show—”

  “Let him. You’re a grown man now, not a boy I hope to protect, so I’d be happy to discuss things with him.” Making the threat loud and clear, Elliott clenched and unclenched his fists.

  Mitch couldn’t help but grin. Jack and Brodie might not like it, but in some obvious ways they were a chip off the old block. “Ros said you weren’t afraid.”

  “Only of her.” He grinned too.

  “If Newman does show up, he’s mine.” On that point, Mitch wouldn’t relent. “Just so you know.”

  “You look like you can handle him, so I don’t have a problem with that.” Elliott arched a brow. “But if I get a chance, I’m taking my turn at him too. Bastard has it coming.”

  Such a paradox. Mitch refrained from pointing it out. “I need a minute or two with Charlotte first.” He’d kept her in his sights even while talking to Elliott. So far, she’d barely moved.

  Hands behind her and ankles crossed, she leaned against the brick wall in a deliberately casual pose, probably designed to keep him from hurrying. She also made a point of not looking at them.

  For such a nosy little thing, that showed real self-discipline. Mitch gave in to a smile.

  The light of a streetlamp haloed her hair and created those tantalizing shadows that emphasized the indent of her waist, the thrust of her breasts and the curve of her hip.

  Curves he wanted to explore on a body he wanted to get to know a whole lot better.

  The picture she made reminded him of the first time he’d seen her, and it had the same effect on him now, only this was sharper because he knew her better, knew the appealing personality that went with the face and body.

  One kiss, he thought. One long, exploratory kiss and then he could get it together again.

  Leaning closer, Elliott promised, “I won’t tell.”

  “What?”

  “You’re looking at her the way a man long-denied looks at a woman he wants.”

  Mitch laughed. Probably true, but... “I’ve only known her a few weeks.”

  “So? I knew Ros was the one within hours. I fucked it up, over and over again, but she’s still it. I figure she always will be. If you want Charlotte, go for it. Just do it right.”

  Advice from Elliott? Rich, but still appreciated. “Thanks. Brodie and Jack might have something to say about that.”

  “Yeah, probably.” He gave Mitch a nudge. “But they respect you. I can already tell. With them, that’s what really matters.”

  Maybe Elliott knew that, because they didn’t respect him. “Where did you park?”

  “Down that way.” He nodded toward an otherwise empty lot.

  All Mitch saw was an aging pickup. �
�Where?”

  “That’s it.” Abashed, he explained, “For now, I drive a truck. Don’t make a big deal of it.”

  No, he wouldn’t. A little humility would do Elliott good. “My car’s around the corner. The black Mustang you gave me—but in better shape now. Give me a few minutes and then you can follow me home.”

  Moving to the front of a barbershop now closed, Elliott lowered onto the step and stretched out his long legs. “Take your time, son. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He made a point of leaning back on his elbows so he was out of sight.

  Looking back at Charlotte, Mitch made up his mind. Could he make things work with her long term? No idea. But she was damn sure the one for right now, for next week and the week after that. How long it’d take him to get his fill, he didn’t know—but he wanted to find out. Badly.

  She must have felt the intensity of his stare because her eyes met his and her lips parted. He could almost swear something more than sight connected them.

  An edge of lust, sharp and hot, deepened his breathing and contracted his muscles as he headed to her.

  In her widening eyes he saw sultry recognition. Yeah, you feel it too, don’t you, baby? Forgetting Elliott, his brothers and even Newman, Mitch crossed the street with a purposeful stride.

  Pushing off the wall, Charlotte met him at the curb.

  Now close enough to touch, he took his time reading the reciprocal need in her expression, noting the rosy flush on her cheeks, the glitter in her eyes. The warmth of the night had enhanced the natural perfume of her skin and hair and he filled his lungs with that stirring scent. He wanted to taste her all over. He wanted to be inside her, stroking deep.

  He wanted the right to call her his own.

  And he wanted it now, more than he’d ever wanted anything, including brothers.

  Meeting her had turned his plans, hell, his whole world, upside down. Best part?

  He liked it.

  * * *

  NEWMAN SPRAWLED IN a lawn chair out back of the ancient, creaky house, beer in hand, staring at nothing in particular and thinking of ways to make Mitch pay. That’s how he occupied his time now.

  It left him nearly blind with fury that he couldn’t do a goddamned thing but wait.