Pepper turned to head back toward the livbedoset but stopped when she caught a blur of movement outside the kitchen window. She could barely make out the face of someone watching her. The sudden realization shot her heart up into her throat and she dropped her drink, sending soda spewing across the floor. She scrambled to pick up the can and drop it in the sink. By the time she got to the window to look outside again, there was nothing to see.
Her backyard wasn’t fenced. Anyone could get up to that back window, then go in five different directions and disappear into someone else’s yard or the next street over.
One window. She had one window without anything to cover it. She’d bought one of those ruffled valances to go over the top, but the rest of the window was wide-open. That was about to change. Pepper marched through the room and pulled a bath towel out of the linen closet. She returned to the kitchen and flung the towel over the window, tucking it around the curtain rod and blocking the entire view.
“Peep on me now, you bastard!” she shouted at the window, although the culprit was long gone.
Pepper had intended to curl up in bed and watch some television before she fell asleep, but she knew now those plans were shot. Instead, she picked up her cell phone and called the police department to add her report to the long list of complaints.
“I responded to a call at your girlfriend’s house last night.”
Grant looked at his brother Simon and frowned. He didn’t have a girlfriend and Simon knew it. Grant wasn’t much for the kind of commitment that required labels. He narrowed his eyes at him. “You know something I don’t?”
Simon chuckled. “I went to Pepper’s house last night,” he explained.
“She’s not my girlfriend, dork. We’ve never even dated.”
“I know. But she’s the one you dream about,” Simon said with a misty, romantic look on his face.
That earned him a kick to the shin under the table. Simon bit down a yelp, not wanting to cause a scene in Ellen’s Diner. If he did, Ruth, the waitress, would scold him. Grant’s twenty-two-year-old brother was hard-pressed to get any respect as a police officer as it was. He didn’t need to be publicly reprimanded by a crotchety, middle-aged woman having hot flashes.
“That hurt, you dick,” Simon hissed over their food. He leaned down and rubbed his leg with a frown lining his face. “Someone is a little touchy about the subject of Pepper Anthony.”
Pepper was always a touchy subject and had been since the ninth grade. Grant wasn’t used to failing when it came to women. He always knew exactly what to say, how to act, when to look into their eyes at the perfect moment to make all their defenses melt away. None of those skills had helped where Pepper was concerned.
“Someone doesn’t feel like getting ragged on by their baby brother today. Now get to the point of the story. What happened that you had to go to her place?”
“She was struck by the peeper.” Simon shoved a French fry in his mouth. “That’s our eighth report so far. The second this week.”
Grant didn’t like the sound of that. Rosewood was a small, quiet community. They weren’t used to having some pervert roaming the streets at night, harassing the local ladies.
Especially Pepper. She lived alone in that house and her family lived way on the edge of town. She was surrounded by older residents who probably couldn’t hear her screams. She had no one to protect her from the town weirdo. “Is she okay?”
“Oh, yeah, she was just a little unnerved by the whole thing. The guy never tries to get in the house or make contact. He just watches. Pepper said she was in her kitchen and saw someone watching her from the backyard.”
“That’s creepy. I don’t like it. Pepper doesn’t have a security system, does she?”
Simon snorted. “No. Who does? You know a big dog and a loaded shotgun are the ADT of the South.”
“Yeah, but Pepper doesn’t have either of those.”
“Who doesn’t have what?” Blake asked from over their shoulder.
Grant and Simon both turned to watch their oldest brother approach the booth and force Simon to slide over. Because of Blake’s class schedule he usually didn’t have time to pop over to the diner at lunch, so this was unexpected.
“A security system,” Simon repeated.
“Are we going to rob someone?”
“No. I was just telling Grant that we got a report of the peeper at his girlfriend’s house. Ow, stop it, Grant!” Simon shouted the last part as Grant kicked him again.
“Is Pepper okay?” Blake assumed, making Grant’s hands tighten around his fork and knife.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Grant complained. Brothers were severely overrated. He’d dated plenty of women in town, but she was the one they always ragged on him about. She was his dating Waterloo, or at least he let them think that.
“She’s fine,” Simon replied, ignoring him. “I think she was just startled by the whole thing.”
“Do you guys have any leads on who it might be?”
Simon shook his head. “Not really. All we got is one muddy footprint from Colette Vaughn’s backyard. It was a men’s size ten narrow shoe, a work boot they sell at the shoe store on the square. We’ve got the store checking their orders, but they’re not computerized yet, so it’s going to take a while to go through all their files. That’s the only lead we have. We thought for a while it might be Jasper Daniels.”
“The guy who drove his truck into the lake?” Grant asked.
“Same guy. His wife left him right after Christmas, and not long after that, we started getting the first peeping reports. But last night, he was passed out in a cell. Sheriff Todd picked him up for driving his riding lawnmower down the street drunk. Apparently he didn’t realize that counted as a DUI. We didn’t let him out until this morning, so he couldn’t have been the one at Pepper’s window.”
“That’s just great. We’ve got a pervert in town and the cops haven’t a clue who it might be.”
“Ease up,” Simon complained. “You sound like Dad.”
Grant fought to keep his hackles from coming up. Nothing got to him quite like being compared to his father. He got that a lot. He had the misfortune of looking the most like his father out of all his siblings. They had the same build, the same carriage, and the same power over women. Grant just used his powers for good instead of evil. “And you sound like you don’t know what you’re doing,” he countered.
“We’re not exactly equipped with a crime scene unit around here. We’re working on it. And we’ve got some suspects.”
“Like who?” Grant challenged.
“Like I can’t tell you,” Simon snapped. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”
Grant groaned. He hated secrets, even ones the police had to keep. Things would be easier if people were just honest with each other. It would’ve saved him a lot of grief over the years.
“Please.”
“Well, how about you tell me your whereabouts last night between nine and ten o’clock?” Simon asked. “Peering in Pepper’s windows at night wouldn’t be a shock to me.”
Swallowing a bite of his food, Grant frowned at his brother. “I was at the firehouse with Mack. You can ask him. We got a call about ten and rode out to the Underwood farm to put out a debris fire that got out of control. Happy?”
Simon shrugged. “I suppose. I just didn’t want you to think the Rosewood police force wasn’t doing a thorough job.”
“You’d better be doing a thorough job,” Blake warned. “Ivy’s coming home tomorrow. If I catch some pervert looking in my windows, I’ll give you and Sheriff Todd what’s left of him.”
“Very considerate of you,” Simon noted.
“How long is she staying?” Grant asked, trying not to sound too interested. He wasn’t that concerned with Ivy, but if she was back in town, she would probably spend some time with Pepper. That meant Grant might have the opportunity to be around her socially. But he didn’t want anyone to know he was interested.
His brot
hers gave him enough grief about Pepper as it was.
Still, he had a hard time not thinking about her. It had been three months since they shared that night together. It was the hottest sex he’d ever had and he couldn’t tell anyone about it. That went against his strict policy of honesty, but Pepper insisted. It was a onetime thing and no one needed to know.
He’d opted just not to talk about it, as opposed to lying. He’d been okay with that plan until he’d gotten a taste of her. Since then, thoughts of getting that spicy redhead back in his bed had nearly consumed his thoughts.
God, he’d gotten pathetic. Grant had never had to work this hard for a woman in his life. Charming a woman had been as second nature to him as football was to Blake. Sure, he needed to practice and stretch his . . . muscle . . . so to speak, but he was always successful. Always. And he technically had been successful with Pepper. He’d scored. Unfortunately, it just hadn’t been enough to satiate him.
For the first time in his life, a woman had left him wanting more. Pepper had done nothing that he expected and he loved that about her. She kept things interesting in a town that was as predictable as bad weather in the springtime.
“About two weeks, I think. She’ll be here through Valentine’s Day.”
“Speaking of which,” Simon spoke up, “have either of you gotten tapped for that bachelor auction?”
Blake laughed, low and wicked. “Nope. I’m engaged.”
“Lucky bastard,” Grant grumbled. “Yeah, Mayor Gallagher called me last week and said he just knew he could count on my participation.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
“What’s the difference?” Simon asked. “You’ve already dated all the women in town anyway. This time, they’re just paying for the privilege.”
“Very funny. You get talked into it, too?”
Simon nodded. “I did. There aren’t many single men in Rosewood. Mayor Gallagher said that ‘all eligible men should be on deck to support their community,’” he said, mocking the gruff, pompous tone of the older man who had been mayor longer than any of them had been alive.
“Well, good,” Grant noted, eager to get a dig in on Simon after all the crap with Pepper earlier. “Maybe we can finally get you laid.”
Simon’s blue eyes grew wide as his head snapped around to see who in the restaurant might have heard that. Fortunately, there weren’t many people around. “You shut up!” Grant heard a loud thump, the glasses and silverware on the table rattled, and Simon groaned. He winced and reached beneath the table to clutch his foot.
“What’s the matter?”
“I tried to kick you in the shin and hit the steel leg of the table instead.”
Both brothers snickered at Simon as he bellyached over his self-inflicted injury. “You know, Simon, that’s not going to help with the ladies. Just ask Blake, a limp isn’t sexy.”
“Hey, now!” Blake argued. “Don’t bring my football injury into this discussion. I’ve never had any problem with the ladies, unlike young Simon here.”
“Don’t ‘young Simon’ me.” Their youngest brother pulled money out of his wallet and threw it down on the table. “It’s Officer Chamberlain if you’re going to be dicks.”
“We’re your older brothers,” Blake noted. “Of course we’re going to be dicks. But it’s only because we’re concerned about the care and well-being of your . . . well . . . dick.”
“Looks like I’ve got a monopoly on the Chamberlain boys today,” Ruth said as she approached the table with a grin curling her withered lips. “Can y’all please stop saying the word ‘dick’ in the diner?”
Ruth was rail thin and her hair had turned all gray years before, but it would be a mistake for anyone to consider her frail. She was hard as nails. She could single-handedly run Ellen’s during the lunch rush because she was one step down from a drill sergeant. Fred, the cook, just did what she said and all went well.
“Sorry, Miss Ruth,” Blake said with the proper amount of shame on his face.
Ruth patted his shoulder and gave him a sly wink that Grant couldn’t miss. The Chamberlain boys got away with murder in this town. “Just keep it down. Reverend Yates is sitting in the back corner. I don’t need him to start preaching on a Thursday afternoon. You know once he gets rolling, he’ll carry on until the dinner rush.”
“Sorry, Miss Ruth,” Grant echoed.
Ruth smiled and reached in her apron to pull out the tabs for Simon’s and Grant’s lunches. She slid them across the table and looked at Blake expectantly. “Can I get you something, Blake?”
“Can I get a cheeseburger and fries to go, please? I’ve got to get back soon.”
“No problem, sugar.”
Grant watched her disappear. “Hmph,” he said after she disappeared into the kitchen. “I thought she only called me sugar.”
“Sorry, Grant,” Blake quipped. “But maybe if you’re lucky, she’s saved up her tips to buy you at the auction.”
“Hey there, hot stuff.”
Pepper was walking out of the hardware store when she heard the familiar man’s voice. She turned and found Grant on the sidewalk heading in her direction. He was wearing one of his obnoxiously tight Rosewood Fire & Rescue T-shirts with a pair of well-pressed khakis that highlighted his muscular thighs and his arrogant strut. She allowed her gaze to flick over him for only a moment, but when her gaze met his, she knew it was still too long. There was a twinkle of amusement in his baby-blue eyes that matched the smug grin on his face.
“Afternoon, Grant,” she said before turning on her heel and heading toward her SUV that was still parked outside of Curls. She made it to the other side of First Avenue before Grant fell into step alongside her.
“I heard you had a run-in with the peeper last night.”
“Yes,” she sighed. “That’s why I’m carrying mini-blinds out of the hardware store.”
Sometimes Pepper hated living in a small town; nothing was private. Simon had probably told him, which made Pepper wonder how much his brother knew about their short-lived relationship. Grant had been sworn to silence, but she knew he wasn’t big on lying. If someone asked him a question flat out, even about their one-night stand, he’d likely spill. She found it both noble and annoying.
“Smart choice. May I carry that for you?”
Pepper considered his offer for a moment before dumping the large paper sack into his arms. “Yep, thanks.”
“Do you need help putting those blinds up? I could come over and do it for you.”
Pepper had no idea how hard it would be to hang mini-blinds, but she was certain she would figure it out without his assistance. “I would say that was sweet of you to offer, but I know better, so no thanks. Even if hanging them up was akin to building a nuclear warhead, I still wouldn’t call you for help.”
Grant shifted the bag into his left arm and placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “You wound me, Pepper, you really do. I’m only trying to be nice. Just because there’s a chance we might get naked when we’re finished hanging the blinds doesn’t mean it isn’t an altruistic offer.”
“Yes, I’m sure you and Mother Teresa are besties.”
“We text all the time,” Grant said with a wide smile.
Pepper looked at him with a blank expression on her face. “She’s dead, Grant.”
“I know that. It was a joke. Come on, you know I’ll get in your house eventually, Pepper.” He stopped on the sidewalk to consider his words, and then held up his hand. “Okay, that sounded creepy. I meant that one day, you’ll invite me over.”
“Not unless my house is on fire.” It would take a hell of a lot of work before anyone was setting foot in her house, much less a Chamberlain.
“I can wait for a formal invitation that doesn’t require your house burning down.” He smiled, not letting her awkward rebuff get him down. “So, did you hear Ivy’s coming into town tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Pepper pulled out her car keys and unlocked the hatch of her lit
tle red SUV. She waited while Grant loaded her things into the back and slammed it closed. When she turned, Grant was far closer than he needed to be. “Take a step back, Grant.”
He did as she asked, albeit reluctantly. “What’s the matter, Pep? Afraid that if you get too close to me, you might fall prey to my charms again?”
“You hush about that,” she warned with a manicured finger jabbing him in the hard wall of his chest. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
His full lips twisted into an amused smile. “Not a soul. That experience was far too sweet to share. I want you all to myself.”
“You’re not going to get me all to yourself. You’ve got to stop pursuing me like this, Grant. People are going to talk.” He crossed his forearms over his chest, the hard muscles dancing beneath his tanned skin. “People already know I’ve been chasing after you for years.”
“Like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner,” Pepper snapped.
“Yeah,” he leaned in to whisper the last part in her ear. “But what they don’t know is that the coyote caught that roadrunner once. And it was good enough for him to want to keep chasing her.”
His hoarse whisper and warm breath on her neck sent a shiver down her spine. She drew in a nervous breath that was heavy with his cologne and felt her body slowly betraying her.
There were many reasons why she would never return to Grant’s bed, and this was one of them. She couldn’t control herself around him. When his hands were on her body, she turned into a wanton woman. She wouldn’t, couldn’t allow that to happen again.
If her mother taught her nothing else growing up, it was that the Chamberlain men were not to be trusted. Every single one of them—from Norman Chamberlain in his fifties to Simon, who was just recently old enough to drink—was just out to use her for sex. And when they were done with her, she’d be tossed aside.
That was the thought that stuck with her from her teen years on. When Grant first asked her out in high school, she’d immediately shut that down. Fast-forward ten years and she wasn’t quite as resistant. Her mother would never know that she did give in, just once. And when she did, she made sure it was on her own terms. They went to his place and she was out the door before dawn, making sure that Grant was the one who woke up feeling used for once.
Feeding the Fire: A Rosewood Novel Page 3