As she drove the short distance to the shop, she debated once again about moving into the apartment upstairs. The fact that Discretion had been vandalized several times in recent weeks was the only reason she hesitated. Her older sister and business partner, Margot, had already agreed that they would put in a security system, and there was the added bonus that it would save her the cost of her rental every month.
When they’d had a dream of starting a business, there were few people in their family who had approved. Summer and Margot had never quite fit into the straitlaced expectations their parents had for them. That was nothing new.
The Victorian house Discretion was located in was left to them by a favorite great-aunt, who Summer knew would’ve loved the little shop she and her sister co-owned if she’d known about it.
Once they’d secured funding and Discretion had opened its doors they’d had only themselves to rely on. It had been rather lonely until Grace and Teresa had walked in one day a couple of years before. Their interest and subsequent investment in the shop had begun a new chapter in Summer and Margot’s lives, and they’d made several great friends along the way.
Their friends had stood by them in the last few months as the shop had drawn unfavorable attention from anonymous and downright hostile sources, the latest being the attempted arson on the shop a few weeks before.
A carpenter was already contracted to do the repair work. He’d given them an estimate to just fix the damage then had also given a price for completely refurbishing it. Summer and Margot loved the back porch area and rose garden, so they had decided to fund the project and paid the difference to have the extra work done. The contractor was supposed to start early the following day.
Grace had told Summer she knew of someone who could install the best in security systems at a very reasonable price. Summer had an appointment with them that morning, which was the reason she needed to get to the store early—to get her work done before they got there.
She parked in her spot and climbed from the car, juggling all her belongings. Once inside she laid everything on the oak-topped lingerie cabinet they used as a sales counter. She was particularly fond of that huge oak display case. She’d found it at an estate sale, recognizing it for what it actually was. She and Margot had repaired and sanded it down, then refinished it themselves. After the glass in the numerous small panels on the front was replaced it looked like it had when it had graced a ritzy 1920s department store.
She checked the stack of messages Margot had left for her on the counter and carried her belongings back to the office opposite the kitchen. Once a formal dining room, the office housed Summer and Margot’s desks, which were back-to-back, and Juliana’s desk and hutch in one corner. The office was in the rear of the house and had very large windows which were draped with sheer white lace to let in as much light as possible. Summer loved this room. One window looked out over a rolling hayfield on the property next door. When the sun hit the grass just right and the wind rippled through it, it was magical. The other window looked out over rosebushes in the shaded backyard.
She looked out the windows now and smiled at the overcast, pearl-gray sky. The rain was still falling but was supposed to clear up by midmorning. She sipped her coffee and giggled at the antics of a squirrel climbing down a tree trunk in the backyard. The house was completely silent except for the occasional settling creak. After checking the time, she set to work.
A while later, Summer stood in the dimly lit kitchen stirring sweetener into her second cup of coffee when she heard a thump outside the back door. Thinking it was Mr. Abbott, the carpenter, she peeked out through one of the closed shutters. Perhaps he was dropping off supplies for the big job starting tomorrow.
She focused on the individual dressed in dark clothing. He had his back to her and was bent over something. He moved and she could see he was leaning over a small toolbox, and she gasped when he turned. Carpenters didn’t wear ski masks in the summertime. She silently closed the shutters, grateful she’d left the bright overhead light off, and snuck across the hall on trembling legs.
She snatched her cell phone from her desk, dialed 9-1-1, and slid her other hand around the handle of the aluminum baseball bat Margot had brought up to work after the fire.
Summer’s heart lurched in her chest as the masked intruder tampered with the back door. She nearly jumped out her skin when she heard a loud thump. She could hear swearing on the other side of the door as she peeked from the office. The burglar was making so much racket, he evidently assumed no one was there.
She pulled her phone from her ear and looked at it. No bars. “Damn it.” Cell service was spotty at best this far out in the country. Sometimes they had it, and sometimes they didn’t.
Suddenly righteously pissed off, Summer made a decision that might get her into trouble later. Once they got in, whoever that was on the other side of the door was in for a surprise. She turned off her desk lamp and tiptoed back across the hall and switched off the light over the stove in the kitchen, casting the back of the house in darkness. She was tired of “phoning it in” to the sheriff and tired of being a victim, constantly checking her rearview mirror as she drove to and from work. She was sick and tired of assholes like this one in general.
Adrenaline pumped through her system as the knob jostled in the door like it was coming loose. In a matter of seconds the door would be open. Where were her keys? In her pocket. She breathed a prayer of thanks for that bit of luck. They could be another weapon. She could use the remote to set off her car alarm and perhaps scare him away, but she perversely wanted to catch him in the act, inside her house. He thought no one was there yet. Otherwise he would have been much quieter.
She bit her lip as the inside part of the old doorknob fell with a thump to the doormat. Her hands tightened around the bat as she stood back from the opening leading into the kitchen. He’d have to move forward several feet before she could swing.
Humidity permeated the air and brought in the scent of rain as the door swung open slowly. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she waited.
Well, I’m committed to this course now, aren’t I? Come here, sugar. Don’t be shy.
A dark shadowy figure moved forward and angled to his left toward the office.
Excellent. Hold still. This might hurt a bit…
Careful to step on the carpet runner and not the hardwood floor, Summer snuck as close as she dared. She threw her body into it and swung the bat, aiming for his head. She didn’t want to kill him, just knock him out cold.
Whap!
She pulled back as he flapped his arms and tried to reach for her in the dark. She swung again and landed a blow across his upper chest as he tried to grab for her. He cried out in pain, and she realized she might’ve broken his collarbone.
Damn it! Why didn’t I run?
Knowing she had to make it count, she backed away to lay a good one on him when he slowly crumpled to the floor, moaning. She would have to step over him to get out either door. Holding the bat ready to whack him again, Summer edged close and prepared to jump over him and sprint. At the last second he grabbed for her and closed his big hand around her ankle. She tripped and fell on top of him.
He tried to get his arms around her to immobilize her, but she twisted and fought him with every ounce of strength she had. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she kicked and scratched. She landed her elbow in his groin, and he screamed in pain. He let go of her ankle and rolled into a ball with a groan, and she took the opportunity to flee down the hall and into the shop. She heard a thump outside and skidded to a halt at the front door.
Glancing back down the hallway, Summer saw the intruder trying to rise to a standing position. She looked around the edge of the lace curtain in the door. In the early morning light, she saw two men, also dressed in dark clothing, who were climbing from an SUV. They looked huge and scary, but they hadn’t threatened her safety yet. She glanced back, and her heart did a double lurch as the shadowy form filled the doorway
leading out into the darkened shop from the hall. She twisted the door latch. It was better to trust her instincts and run than risk another physical altercation with the intruder. He spotted her at the door and lunged toward her.
She let loose a bloodcurdling scream, yanked open the door, and bolted through.
* * * *
Kemp expected to walk up on the porch, knock on the locked door, and see her beautiful face up close for the first time. He had not expected to hear her frightened scream as she flew out of the front doorway. Her long, wavy blonde hair flew around her shoulders as she glanced behind her. Her face was pale, and it was obvious she was terrified of whoever or whatever was in the shop.
She bolted down the steps, and Kemp took two long strides to her, catching her in his arms as Ace rushed forward. Kemp heard a crash and loud thump from inside the little boutique.
Ace looked back at him. “Got her?”
“Yeah.” Kemp turned her, using his body to block hers, and jerked open the door on the Escalade. He lifted her bodily into the seat and handed her the remote. “Lock it. The glass is bulletproof. Sit tight.”
Her beautiful, full lips quivered, and in a husky, scared voice she whispered, “What if he—”
“I’ll be right back.” The need to determine and fix what had frightened her so badly warred with the urge to stay with her and comfort her. The tears pooling in her hazel eyes made his heart clench.
She nodded, and he closed the door, gesturing to the key ring. She locked the doors. Kemp drew his weapon, released the safety, and ran up the steps.
Cautiously, he approached the doorway, ascertaining Ace’s location inside. A display fixture was overturned on the hardwood floor, and lacy little nighties were strewn around it. It bothered him a lot that this feminine place filled with delicate, frivolous things was unsafe for her at the moment. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the task at hand, but the look in her eyes had moved him. It cranked his urge to “fix” the problem into overdrive.
Ace returned from the hallway out of breath. “He went over the fence. Must’ve gone through the woods. She okay?”
“Yeah. I had her lock herself in the Escalade.” Kemp flipped the safety on his weapon and returned it to the holster under his jacket. No point in scaring her.
“He left his tools. There must’ve been a scuffle by the door.” Ace held up an aluminum baseball bat with bright-pink grip tape around the handle. “I found this on the floor.”
Kemp chuckled. “I hope she got in at least one good shot with it.”
Their little kitten had some claws. He lifted the display fixture from the floor and stood it upright. There was no reason for her to see further evidence that her little boutique had been violated. He and Ace both grabbed an armful of the lacy garments and laid them carefully on the large counter by the door.
* * * *
Summer shifted on the leather driver’s seat, watching for signs of movement inside the shop. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she tried to take steadying breaths.
She could still feel his strong arms around her, whoever “he” was. It had felt like running into a solid wall as she’d collided with his chest. If he hadn’t caught her as she’d hurtled down the steps, she probably would’ve fallen to the asphalt and been easy prey to whoever was in the shop. A full-body shudder rippled through her at the thought.
Putting her hands to her face, she realized tears wet her cheeks. She checked her appearance in the rearview mirror and groaned. Dark streaks from her eyeliner and mascara crept down from the outer corners of her eyes. Using the back of her hand she wiped them away carefully, trying to salvage her appearance as best as she could.
To distract herself she looked around the interior of the luxury SUV. The scent of leather and coffee permeated the space. Two open, half-full cups of coffee, one with cream and the other black, were in the cupholders. There was a thin stack of business cards, receipts, and a small spiral-bound notebook in an opening in the console. She lifted one of the cards and looked at the name on it.
Kemp Whittier, Security and Investigation Specialist.
“Oh.” That explained the presence of her saviors this morning. They were here for the eight o’clock appointment.
Just then the two men made an appearance at the door. Her jaw dropped as she took a good look. One after the other, they completely filled the doorway as they filed out, both their eyes trained on her. She gripped the leather-covered steering wheel above her lap.
“Holy Moses.” She shut her mouth and fumbled with the SUV’s remote as they approached the driver-side door cautiously. They were both massive, larger than life, and almost stereotypical for the kind of guys who would be involved in security and investigation.
Why had she expected some dweeby nerd in a panel van emblazoned with the logo of a security service? These guys did more than install burglar alarms. They looked like they could catch and beat the crap out of the burglar so she wouldn’t need an alarm.
The one who’d caught her had a noticeable bulge under his arm, and she was willing to bet there was a loaded firearm inside that jacket. Both men were dressed impeccably in suits, and Summer had a feeling that she and Margot were in over their heads as far as this security consultation was concerned. They could afford a burglar alarm but not the level of attention these men were obviously used to delivering.
She bit her lip as the man with black hair, who had run in the shop first, smiled at her when she couldn’t get her fingers to work properly on the remote. The other man was rather stoic, but she thought she detected warmth in his voice and his eyes as he pointed to the remote. Through the glass she heard his muffled voice.
“The top button on the left.”
Heat stole over her cheeks as she growled at herself and pushed the button. “Duh. Open.” The lock on the driver door popped open quietly.
Smiling at her, the man with black hair opened the door and held out a hand to her. He wore his hair slicked back and had a face that was classically handsome. His lips were just full enough, and his eyebrows arched over intense, dark brown eyes. She wouldn’t want to be on the other end of his attention if he was not smiling. He looked strong enough to lift her over his head, he was so powerfully built.
She realized her hands were shaking when she placed one in his. His tanned, callused hand felt solid under hers, which was comforting under the circumstances. Dressed in suits as they were, she wouldn’t have been surprised if his hands were soft, but it was obvious looking at them that they were not “desk types.”
She slid from the leather seat, and he caught her as her knees gave out when her feet landed on the asphalt. Her cheek landed against his lapel, and she was once again held against another hard chest.
Way to go, graceful.
Chapter Three
Summer looked up at him towering over her and managed a weak smile as he steadied her.
“You okay?” He leaned down and looked in her eyes, his dark eyebrows drawing together slightly. That voice. She gasped as he smiled and said, “Hazel.”
She imagined the dumb look on her face. “Huh?”
His voice was—
“Your eyes. They’re hazel.”
“You’re Grace’s friend. The one who texted me.” Oh, duh! These were the guys investigating the ugly posts on that horrible blog, Divine Morality. Of course Grace would recommend them for a security consultation at the shop.
Both men smiled in confirmation. Drawing a deep breath, Summer looked up at the first man to catch her and said, “Kemp?”
“At your service, ma’am.” A smile split his craggy face, and her heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t model handsome like the other man was, but his smile reached his green eyes, and she couldn’t help the undoubtedly goofy grin that spread across her face in response. She smothered the urge to touch the dimple that appeared in his cheek. His nose looked like it might have been broken at some point, judging by the slight bump in the bridge. His hair was dark brown with just
a sprinkling of silver at the temples, and she found him ruggedly handsome.
“Hi.” Both these guys were texting her the other night? Wanting her. “It was you. And you.”
“Ace Webster,” the black-haired man replied with a nod and a smile. She realized he was still holding her hand, and she looked at the two joined together, hers small compared to his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Summer. Are you all right?”
Mentally shaking herself, Summer replied, “Yes. Was he still in there?”
“No. He’s gone, but he left his toolbox. Or I assume it’s his, right outside the doorway. Let’s get you inside.”
They each took an elbow and gently escorted her up the stairs. She was grateful because her knees were still wobbling a bit. Everything in the shop looked safe and secure, except for the pile of lace chemises and camisoles on the counter. The intruder must’ve knocked a fixture over. They walked back to the office, and she sat down. Kemp went across the hall and returned with a glass of water, which he placed in front of her.
Ace pulled a chair up and sat down with her. “Did you get a look at him?”
Summer frowned and tried to picture him in her mind. “No. He wore dark clothing, a mask, and gloves. I couldn’t even see his eyes. It was one of those masks that have the built-in shades,” she said waving her hand over her brow.
“Tall? Short?”
Summer remembered him standing in the doorway right before she flung open the front door. She walked back to that door and indicated his approximate height. She could almost see him standing there, and a cold chill ran through her body. I could have been killed. What was I thinking?
“Tall, then.”
“Y–Yes. He was big,” she said, indicating broad shoulders with her hands, which suddenly wouldn’t stop shaking. “He grabbed me when I tried to get away and I fell.” She touched her elbow and was suddenly aware of the throbbing pain there. She felt like a baby when she couldn’t stop the quivering in her lower lip. Kemp growled softly.
The Divine Creek Ranch Collection Volume 3 Page 34