Worth the Wait

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Worth the Wait Page 23

by Lori Foster


  He kissed her mulish mouth and said, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  * * *

  First thing on Tuesday morning, Hogan headed out to track down Nathan. He hadn’t slept much, mostly because he’d spent the night fighting the urge to go to Violet’s house and take care of her. Or try to take care of her. The woman could be difficult when it came to her independence.

  His concern, apparently, was something she didn’t want.

  She’d made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she wouldn’t be missing any work. Violet had the notion that he wanted to take over.

  Not true. Or rather, not entirely true.

  For the most part, Hogan had no problem at all working for her. She was a fair, funny boss.

  Other times, he resented the hell out of the fact that she got to call the shots.

  This was one of those times.

  Knowing Nathan left the house early, Hogan went up the porch steps, raised his hand to knock—and it opened before he could.

  Brooklin almost ran into him.

  In one cursory glance, Hogan took in her disheveled nightshirt over shorts, sleep-rumpled hair and still-slumberous eyes. He also saw the bandage on her arm.

  So she’d been hurt, had called Nathan, then spent the night.

  But Violet hadn’t even planned to let him know.

  At the moment, Brooklin looked as startled to see him as he was to see her.

  “Hogan,” she gasped, her voice thin.

  With embarrassment—or something else?

  He couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Morning, Brooklin. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “I was just...” Her voice trailed off. “Yes, nice to see you. I’m sorry, but I need to go. Nathan’s in the kitchen.”

  “No,” Hogan said. “He’s right behind you.”

  She jumped, turned to Nathan and said, “You have company.”

  “So I see.”

  Hogan watched Nathan’s eyes narrow and saw Brooklin’s widen in reaction. Then Nathan brought her close and kissed her on the mouth.

  Whistling, Hogan looked down at his feet—but he listened.

  “I’ll get home earlier tonight,” Nathan said. “But it’s practice night.”

  “Practice night?”

  “For the band. You know I’m part of a band, right?”

  “Yes. Hogan mentioned it when he first introduced himself.”

  Hogan whistled a little louder.

  Ignoring him, Nathan said, “We practice in my garage every Tuesday, but we’ve missed a few weeks while some of the guys took their vacations.” He drew her close again. “You’re welcome to come over anyway.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “We finish up around nine, otherwise the neighbors complain.”

  “I promise not to complain,” she said. “I’m actually curious to hear you.”

  “Feel free to listen, and after it breaks up, you and I have some talking to do, right?”

  Feeling the tension, Hogan wisely stepped away to lean on the porch rail. He heard whispered protests from Brooklin, smooth insistence from Nathan.

  How nice would it be to have Violet spend the night, to wake up with her in the morning—even to debate with her on the front porch?

  Not that long ago it would have been an appalling thought, yet now he envied Nathan for it.

  A few seconds later, Brooklin brushed past him as she left, hurrying over to her own house.

  “You want to come in?” Nathan asked. “I still have some coffee left.”

  Hogan grinned, but said nothing until he and Nathan were behind a closed door. Nathan, freshly shaved and dressed for work but with his shirt still untucked and unbuttoned, headed back for the kitchen.

  Hogan followed him. “Well, that was interesting.”

  Stopping at the coffeepot, Nathan returned his grin. “Hope you enjoyed it, because you probably just set me back. She’s prickly as hell, and twice as private.”

  “Probably why she and Violet get along.” He thought of Brooklin’s reaction at seeing him and asked, “I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed because I saw her here, or if she was maybe... I don’t know. More than startled?”

  Nathan turned grim. “Finding a guy standing there might have alarmed her before she realized it was you.”

  Did that mean she really was in danger? Sympathetic to Nathan’s mood, Hogan stated his concerns carefully. “I heard they were together yesterday when they both got hurt?”

  “That’s why you’re here?” He handed Hogan the cup of coffee.

  “Yeah.” Not needing an invite, Hogan pulled out a chair and sat at the table, waiting for Nathan to join him. “What the hell happened?”

  Nathan thoughtfully sipped his coffee. Rather than answer, he asked a question of his own. “Did you talk to Violet?”

  “Yes.” Hogan didn’t give the frustrating details of how she’d tried to keep him in the dark. “She told me that someone in a van almost ran them over. She seems to think it was deliberate.”

  Nathan frowned. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, what?”

  Nathan rubbed the back of his neck, then met Hogan’s gaze. “Are you and Violet involved?” He shook his head. “I mean, for more than convenience or whatever.”

  Drawing himself up, Hogan scowled. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re putting me in a bad spot, Hogan. Brooklin is private, so I don’t want to talk to just anyone.”

  Yet Hogan could see that he did want to talk. “I work with her. I like her. We’re...friends.”

  Nathan snorted. “Look, I can either give you the report I filed, or I can tell you what I really think is going on. But if you aren’t involved with Violet, if you don’t care a hell of a lot for her, then I’d say it’s none of your damned business.”

  Hogan stewed for about three seconds, then said through his teeth, “We’re involved.” He pointed at Nathan. “But we’re still working it out, so keep it to yourself.”

  Nathan sat back in his chair. “Violet’s not a woman to play games.”

  He gave him a dry look. “Since we’re involved, don’t you think I already know that?”

  “Maybe.”

  Not a woman to play games, no. Violet was a woman to respect, to admire and to desire. Somewhat reluctantly, Hogan admitted, “I care about her, and if she’s in trouble, I need to know.”

  After gulping down the rest of his coffee, Nathan stood. “Fine. But I’ve only got five minutes before I need to head out the door, so I have to make it short and to the point.”

  Hogan stood, too. “I’m listening.”

  “Brooklin is hiding something from her past, something that happened before she moved here. I have no idea yet what it might be, but she’s afraid and my instincts tell me there’s danger. Hopefully soon she’ll tell me everything. I can’t very well protect her if she doesn’t.”

  Hogan soaked that in. “That’s why she hired Colt and Jason to set up the security on her house?”

  “From my suggestion, yeah. I don’t think she’s a woman who spooks easily, but she saw some shadows on the front porch, then heard someone trying to open her back door.”

  “Hell, that’d unsettle anyone, man or woman.”

  “Agreed. I get the feeling, though, that Brooklin is afraid of someone specific. You can’t repeat any of this, but now that Violet is involved, I suggest you keep an eye out, especially if she’s closing up the diner at night.”

  Without thinking of how telling it might be, Hogan said, “I’ll make sure I’m always there with her.” Then it hit him and he looked at Nathan, who only stared back as if he’d expected nothing less. Moving on, Hogan added, “Violet should know about all this, too.”


  “Agreed. I think Brooklin will tell her on her own. She’s not the type of woman who’d want to see anyone else get hurt if she could help it. But tonight when we talk, I’ll bring it up.”

  Hogan stated it as a fact. “If she doesn’t tell her, I will.”

  “I’d do the same. Just let her know it’s private.” Nathan looked at the wall clock behind the table and began buttoning his shirt. “I don’t mean to throw you out, but I have to get going.”

  Until that moment, Hogan had been too concerned with the situation to joke. But now he said, “Got a late start this morning, huh?”

  Nathan barely bit back his smile. “That’s private, too.”

  After clapping him on the shoulder, Hogan said, “I’m glad you won her over.”

  “I’m not entirely there yet, but I’m making progress.”

  At the door, Hogan got serious again. “If you find out anything else...”

  “I’ll let you know. Until then, just be a little more on guard.”

  * * *

  Wearing the only pair of bootcut jeans that she owned, which hid her colorful ankle, and thick-soled walking sandals that made being on her feet a little less painful, Violet made her way slowly down an aisle in a local department store. Just as she reached the folding chairs, Hogan came around the corner. He, too, had been looking at the chairs, and he did a double take when he saw her.

  His surprise quickly shifted to annoyance. “Why the hell are you shopping?” Before she could answer, he added, “How’s your ankle?”

  Damn, he looked good in the mornings. Then again, when did the man not look good? He, too, wore jeans, but with running shoes and a well-worn KISS T-shirt. He’d shaved, but his hair looked a little mussed, as if he’d done that macho frustrated thing of running his fingers through it.

  Skipping his questions, she said, “You’re up and about early.”

  He frowned at her a second more, then stepped close, tenderly touched her cheek and bent down to press his mouth to hers for three heart-melting seconds. Softer now, he said, “Let me try again, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Good morning, Violet. How are you?”

  With her heart pumping a little faster, she smiled. “I’d curl my toes if I could. But I can’t. And no, my ankle isn’t worse. In fact, some of the swelling has gone down. But it’s now mostly black, like a sickly eggplant.”

  “You shouldn’t be on it.”

  With a shrug, she said, “I iced it off and on all night.”

  His brows pinched with concern. “Which means you didn’t get any sleep.”

  Rolling her eyes, she laughed. “Lighten up, Hogan. I’m not going to perish. I promise I’m fine. In fact, I’m determined to be a very good patient today.” She gestured at the shelf. “I was looking for one of those folding chairs with a foot thing that comes up. You know? I’ve seen them during the community picnics at the creek. Usually it’s the elderly using them, but I thought it could work for my office.”

  Hogan’s mouth tipped in a crooked smile. “That’s what I was looking for, too.”

  So sweet! “You were, really?”

  “Yeah. Thank you in advance for agreeing to be a good patient. Hope you don’t mind if I hold you to it.”

  After a quick glance around to make sure they were alone in the aisle, Violet walked her fingers up his chest. “We could make a deal.”

  His gaze went intent, hot, and he murmured, “I’m listening.”

  “Will you come to my office...let’s see, at least twice? You should be able to manage that, right? And while you’re there, will you kiss me?” She put both hands on his thick shoulders. “God, I’ve missed kissing you.”

  “Two trips to your office? Yeah, I think I can handle that.” His expression looked so absorbed, she held her breath, hoping... Then he whispered, “I could come by for a little while tonight after work.”

  Warmth spiraled through her. “A booty call,” she breathed dramatically. Batting her eyelashes, she said on a sigh, “Be still, my heart.”

  His expression changed. “I didn’t mean—”

  Violet laughed. “Yes, you did, and I’m glad.” Rushing past that so he wouldn’t withdraw the suggestion, she asked, “It won’t be a problem with Colt?” Almost as quickly, she shook her head. “No, never mind. Forget I asked. You already told me that you wouldn’t let...well, us be a problem with him. And I’m glad for that, too.” She really was. The last thing she ever wanted to do was make Colt’s life any harder. She cared for him a great deal and figured he’d had enough turmoil in his young life.

  Hogan looked away. “I’m starting to feel like a real bastard.”

  Fisting her hands in his shirt, she pulled him closer and regained his attention. “Listen up, Guthrie. I want that booty call, okay?” She gave him a hard, fast kiss. “Truthfully, I need it. It reassures me that you make Colt your priority. That’s how it should be. And then I don’t have to worry about being a problem.”

  His gaze moved over her face until he was satisfied. Then he nodded. “You’re never a problem, believe me.”

  A woman with two noisy kids moved into the aisle.

  Hogan took a chair off the shelf, then her arm. “Let’s go.” He adjusted his long-legged pace to match hers, aware of her slight hobbling no matter how she tried to hide it.

  “I was going to get some real ice packs, too.” She grinned at him. “Last night I used up all my bags of frozen vegetables, and the freezer bags at the diner leak.”

  “I grabbed some from my house. They’re already nice and cold and in a cooler. I also looked it up on the internet and you should have wrapped your ankle.”

  She waved that away. “I tried it, but the only way that worked is if the wrap went around the bottom of my foot, and that made it so bulky, walking would be impossible.” Pausing, she lifted up the hem of her jeans on the left leg. “My big concession today is these hideous sandals, which are a godsend or I wouldn’t have conceded to them, and the chair so I can elevate my foot and ice it occasionally. Other than that, I’m treating this like any other day.”

  He frowned down at the spongy, thick-soled sandals. “I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

  “Mostly I’m worried about Brooklin. But she’s coming in today for lunch, so I can see how she’s feeling then.”

  “Good.” Hogan gently led her to the checkout line behind two other people, then lowered his voice so no one would overhear. “Maybe while she’s there you can test out your chair.” He looked down at her, his expression far too solemn. “And you know, it wouldn’t hurt to find out who the hell would want to run her over, with you as collateral damage.”

  Shivering with the reality of what could have happened, Violet moved closer. Collateral damage. Yes, she’d wondered about that at least a hundred times. “Last night, I kept wondering if I’d imagined that part.” She stared up at Hogan. “If it was deliberate, wouldn’t that make it attempted murder?”

  “I’d say so.” With one arm, Hogan drew her closer and kissed her forehead. “But it could have been someone high or drunk, or just stupid.”

  She tried to believe that, but had to admit the truth. Someone was after Brooklin.

  Danger had come to Clearbrook, and by pure accident, she’d been drawn in.

  14

  BECAUSE COLT HAD the day off, Hogan relied on Kristy and Jerry to let him know when Brooklin showed up. Kristy proved to be the most accommodating, informing him of her arrival, that they’d ordered turkey-and-veggie pitas and that they’d gone to Violet’s office to eat.

  Because it was important—at least it felt that way to him—Hogan got ahead on ribs then left a panicked Kristy keeping watch over them while he went to talk to the ladies. To make up for the loss of Kristy on the dining room floor, he pulled one of the dishwashers to wait ta
bles. It was quite a shuffling of staff, but at their slowest time of the day, so he felt it was safe to take advantage.

  Instead of barging in as he usually did, Hogan tapped politely on the door and waited. A second later Brooklin opened the door.

  He peered around her and saw Violet in the chair, the leg of her jeans rolled up and an ice pack on her ankle. He nodded in satisfaction and stepped in without an invite.

  “Ladies.”

  Sitting forward, Violet demanded, “Why aren’t you on the grill? What’s wrong?”

  “You’re both injured, that’s what’s wrong.”

  “But the grill—”

  “I’ve got it covered.” He turned to Brooklin, saw she avoided his gaze and took in the bandage on her arm. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “It’s fine,” she said, her attention on the wall to the right. “A deep scratch, but nothing a little antiseptic ointment and a few suture bandages didn’t fix.”

  Deciding to get to the point, Hogan crossed his arms and watched her. “I heard someone deliberately tried to run you down.”

  She swallowed loudly.

  Violet tossed aside her ice bag and swung her leg off the chair. “Hogan...”

  “No, don’t get up.” In two big steps he reached her, urging her back to a comfortable position.

  “I was getting up to throw you out.” Her look stern, she said, “Brooklin and I are talking.”

  “So I came in too soon?”

  She growled, “And you’ll go out even faster!”

  “No,” he said, meaning it. “I won’t.”

  Violet looked ready to blast him.

  Brooklin interjected before she could. “It’s okay, Violet. He may as well hear it, too.” She faced him with the same enthusiasm she’d give a firing squad. “I was just telling Violet that, yes, I think it was deliberate, but I can’t know for sure. I thought...” Her voice faded off.

  Hogan’s first concern was Violet, but what man could be immune to a woman distressed? Gentling his voice, he said, “You thought you were safe here?”

  “Yes.” Folding her arms around herself, she cupped the thick bandage on her elbow, almost as if it gave her courage. “There is someone who may have found me here. I don’t know how. It doesn’t make any sense...”

 

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