by Vella Day
She liked hearing good things about him. “Cool.”
“You said you were new in town. You like guns?”
That was an odd question. “What do you mean?” She had her concealed weapon’s permit, though she needed to practice more if she had any hope of hitting her target.
“The department is having a sharp shooting competition next weekend. You want to come watch?”
She didn’t dare ask if Trent would be there. When they’d been at his cabin, he’d asked her if she knew how to shoot a gun, and from his attitude, he was quite good.
“Sounds great.” While it wasn’t a date, it might be fun. She had a ton of stuff to do to get ready for her grand opening, but she needed to be involved in the community, too. Referrals were a way of life, though she doubted cops would ever use her service.
Just as Devon finished giving her the details about the time and location, two other good-looking men entered the kitchen.
“There you are, Dev.” The taller of the two slapped him on the back then glanced her way. “Keeping the beautiful ones to yourself like always, I see.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Mason Everly. I work with Dev.”
She smiled. “Nice meeting you.”
Devon nodded to the other man. “And this is the guy I plan to beat at the competition—Connor Douglas.”
“In your dreams, man.”
The three of them laughed. The strong connection between the men made her miss her friends at home. Her mom claimed Charlotte would make new ones, and she hoped she was right. For now, she’d work hard at her new endeavor and have a good time.
“There you are,” her mom said.
“Need me to do something?” Please say no.
“Just wanted to let you know Trent’s here.”
Tingles raced through her. Reacting so strongly wasn’t good. Now Charlotte wished she hadn’t confided in her mom about how much she liked him.
Devon slipped a hand around Charlotte’s waist. “Great. Let’s go talk to him.”
She couldn’t tell from his tone if he liked Trent, or if there was some competition between them.
With his warm hand on her back, Devon led her into the living room. The moment she saw Trent, her pulse sped up. Stay cool. She was smart enough to know that men enjoyed a woman who was hard to get, so it wouldn’t hurt to have him think she wasn’t all that interested.
But damn, she wasn’t sure she was that good of an actress.
Chapter Two
Trent’s gaze shot straight to Charlotte. Holy shit, she looked hotter than when he’d seen her at Christmas, if that was possible. She had on a body hugging sweater dress that accentuated her ample curves, along with booted heels that made her look so sexy. His heart actually pounded. Damn. Her hair was different, too. Instead of keeping it in a ponytail, she’d let it hang past her shoulders, and the blonde waves framed her face, making her even prettier. When she was at his cabin, hiding from the stalker, she hadn’t worn a speck of makeup. Now, she was done up with delicate pink lips and smoldering eyes.
Not liking how his cock had turned hard at the sight of her, he glanced away. How had he forgotten she might be here? Trent had been dreaming about her nightly, despite knowing he wasn’t the right man for her. Not only was she too young, she was Vic’s daughter, and he was highly protective of her. Vic, of all parents, understood how dangerous it was to be a cop, and he wouldn’t want his only daughter to be with one. Trent, too, understood that logic. His mom had left his dad for that very reason.
Vic told him Charlotte had moved back to town last week, so of course she’d be at her dad’s birthday party. Perhaps Harmon’s release had killed all of his functioning brain cells.
Charlotte giggled and Trent returned his gaze to her. As soon as he spotted playboy Devon’s arm around her waist, acid burned in his gut. She shouldn’t even think of messing with that man. He was a heartache waiting to happen.
Move.
Trying to act as if nothing had happened between them in the cabin, he sauntered up to her and smiled. “Hi, Charlotte. Nice to see you again.” He leaned over and gave her a light hug, trying to ignore Devon’s arm around her waist. Trent stood back and glanced at the rookie. “Dev.”
“Detective.”
Trent wanted to wipe the smirk off the man’s face, knowing he’d only hurt Charlotte in the end.
A hand clasped on his shoulder, and he turned around. “Sharon.”
“May I speak with you for a moment?” Vic’s secretary smiled and led him away from Charlotte and Devon.
Her timing sucked. He looked over his shoulder to say he’d be right back, but Charlotte had faced Devon, Mason, and Connor, ratcheting his anger up a notch.
Surely the older woman wasn’t trying to pick him up. While he wasn’t in the most charitable mood, he admired Vic and wouldn’t do anything to piss off his right hand woman.
“You don’t stop by anymore. How have you been?” From the gleam in her eyes, that wasn’t the real reason she’d pulled him away. She must need information of some kind—or else Vic had instructed her to make sure Trent stayed away from his daughter.
“Good.” Ever since the stalker incident that necessitated the need to protect Charlotte, he and Vic had tried to get together for a drink once a week, but of late, Vic had cancelled more times than not, saying he wanted to spend any free moments with his new wife, and Trent couldn’t blame him. Vic only had one true love in his live, and she just returned after a five-year hiatus.
Sharon squeezed his arm, her brows pinched in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Trent refocused. She reminded him of the way his mom used to be—feisty, outspoken, and having a flare for the dramatic. “Not really. Can you keep a secret?”
People would find out sooner or later, and he had the urge to talk to someone about it. Seeing Harmon in civilian clothes, acting so normal, stirred doubt in him. While Vic would be a good sounding board, Trent didn’t need his friend meddling in the case—a case that had seemed pretty cut and dried at the time. After three years, Trent had time to think about his brother’s behavior but could never come up with a reason why Harmon would forsake his upbringing and lie for financial gain. Could his brother be innocent? It was possible, but Trent wasn’t convinced he’d been framed, especially in light of the damaging evidence.
Sharon puffed out her chest. “You know I can.”
Her effrontery almost brought out his smile. Trent kept his back to Charlotte, fearing that if he watched her look lovingly into Devon’s eyes, he’d walk out of the party. “My older brother was released from prison today.”
Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. “That’s wonderful news.”
“For Harmon maybe.”
Sharon looked behind him as if she was watching for Vic. She clasped his arm then leaned in close. “Afraid his past will come back to haunt you?”
That was an excellent question, one he’d asked himself repeatedly. “I don’t know what I fear. Harmon has always been the elephant in the room whenever I’m over at Dad’s.”
“I don’t see why—not unless you think he’ll commit another crime.”
“No!”
“Then what’s the problem? Family is family. Forever.”
His shoulders relaxed. “You’re right.” His anxiety that something bad would happen was unfounded. Harmon had served his time, and Trent needed to treat him with respect.
Sharon smiled. “Now that that’s out of the way, tell me why you haven’t contacted Charlotte? She’s been in town a week, and I know Vic told you.”
So that was the real reason for her dragging him away. Perhaps coming here tonight had been a mistake. The last thing he needed was a matchmaker, especially since he had yet to wrap his head around how he planned to handle his feelings for Charlotte. He told Sharon the first thing that came to mind. “Charlotte is Vic’s daughter. I don’t want to piss him off.”
Vic’s secretary chuckled. “He can be deadly, and I know he has some reserv
ations about her dating a cop, but he also wants her to be happy.”
“Good to know.” Trent needed to mingle, or rather, he needed to make sure Devon wasn’t being a jerk to Charlotte. And he certainly didn’t need Sharon trying to set him up.
As he turned to check out the scene, Sharon clasped his arm again. “Not so fast, big boy. You like her, right?”
Damned bulldog. He wasn’t sure he liked the direction of this line of inquiry. Her kids lived out of state, so perhaps she missed being a mom.
“Charlotte’s very nice.”
“Just nice?” Sharon’s brows rose.
“Sharon Dumont. What’s going on?”
She had the decency to glance away. “A few days ago, Charlotte came into the office to see her dad, and we got to chatting. You hurt her feelings when you didn’t call.”
Shit. He worried that might be the case. “I was her bodyguard, not her date.” Though he’d thought about being more.
Sharon lifted a shoulder. “Just saying. Charlotte keeps asking about you, and I think you two would be perfect for each other. She’s young, pretty, and single.”
The Rock Hard Police Department should hire this woman. She’d make a great interrogator. Before he had the chance to voice his reasons for not asking her out, the front door opened and his boss, Dan Hartwick, came in wearing a suit—of course.
Sharon’s eyes lit up, and it was as if Trent wasn’t even in the room. She turned back to him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to harass Dan.”
Dan? From what he’d heard, Dan wanted nothing to do with her. She was a loose cannon, not to mention uptight-Dan didn’t date—though he never discussed why. His past seemed to be a taboo subject.
Trent looked around for Charlotte but couldn’t find her. Thinking she might be in the kitchen, he headed that way, but no sooner had he taken a step than Vic appeared, coming toward him. Trent wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from him about his daughter, so he pretended as if he needed to use the bathroom and hightailed it down the hallway. Two bedroom doors sat ajar on the right, while the one door on the left was closed. It seemed logical this was the bathroom. As he twisted the knob, the door flew open and he almost tumbled into Charlotte.
Down boy.
* * *
Charlotte’s breath caught, and her stomach did all sorts of odd twisting, not to mention what was happening between her legs. She’d seen Sharon chatting with Trent and didn’t need to guess what that conversation was about—her. Her dad’s secretary seemed determined to have Charlotte find true love, and she believed Trent was that man. Charlotte couldn’t agree more.
“Excuse me,” Trent said, his gaze never leaving her face.
Her pulse soared. “No problem. I’m finished.” What a dumb thing to say. If she hadn’t been done, she wouldn’t be leaving.
As she stepped into the doorway, Trent didn’t move, and when her eyes connected with his, her heart beat frantically. She wanted this man, and from the way he was looking at her, he wanted her, too. Or did he? Maybe the blood pounding in her ears had halted all rational thought.
“I really need to thank you,” she said as her hands touched his abs and started a slow glide up his body.
“For what?” he asked.
When his hands clasped her waist, she figured it was as good as a green flag. Some invisible force seemed to lift her arms and wrap them around his neck. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him—something she’d wanted to do for months.
When he didn’t jerk away, anticipation weakened her, and her heart slammed against her ribs. Then his tongue slid along the seam of her lips and she thought she’d been delivered to the pearly gates themselves. Hungry for him, she opened up and plunged in. Not only did he smell of pine and musk, he tasted like mint. The incredible intensity lasted about two seconds before Trent broke the contact, and devastation claimed her.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, hesitation or maybe confusion lacing his voice.
She laughed. “Well, I did.”
“Charlotte, listen.” He scrubbed a hand down his chin.
She wasn’t in the mood to hear his excuses why he hadn’t called or that he wasn’t interested. She didn’t like lies, and from the way he just kissed her, he’d be telling one—though perhaps he wasn’t ready to believe there was something brewing between them.
Charlotte waved a dismissive hand. “I’m good. You don’t need to explain. I just wanted to say thank you for saving my life. That’s all.”
Plastering on a smile, she stepped into the hallway and forced herself not to run back to the party. Part of her was thrilled to have experienced that much of Trent, but the other half was a bit disappointed. She could guess all of his reasons for staying away, but she wanted to prove to him they were all unfounded. Trent was a lot like her dad—noble, protective, and passionate underneath the gruff exterior.
As she entered the living room, Sharon was speaking with Dan Hartwick, Trent’s boss who’d she’d met at the cabin after that terrible man had tried to burn it down with her and Trent inside. Now, Charlotte would have to wait to find out what Sharon had spoken to Trent about. Wanting to keep busy, she located her mom in the kitchen.
“When are we going to give Dad his gifts?”
“We could do it any time. You want to help me with the candles?” Her mom nodded to the cake covered in chocolate guns.
“Sure.” Anything to avoid thinking about Trent since embarrassment was beginning to seep in.
Kissing him had been foolish, though highly stimulating. What she wouldn’t give to know what he thought of their brief encounter, though his erection told her plenty.
Her challenge now was to figure out a subtle way to make him chase her.
Chapter Three
As Charlotte placed the tile samples next to the hardwood planks at the back of her new store, her mind wandered back to Trent. Dad’s party had been four days ago, yet Trent hadn’t contacted her, not even to say he enjoyed seeing her again. If nothing else, she thought he would have called to discuss their brief kiss. He had to know she’d felt his reaction.
Since he wasn’t going to make the first move, her only option was to go after him. Her problem was that she hadn’t thought of a way to do so without appearing desperate. She would have asked Mom, but she and Dad had left two days ago for their second honeymoon in Hawaii. Even if they’d been home, her interest in Trent would get back to Dad, and he’d give some reason why she couldn’t date him. It didn’t seem to matter that she was an adult and had been living on her own for years.
Before she could worry about her love life, she needed to finish up on her store, as she wanted to have it up and running by next Monday. Only then could she start planning her future with the man of her dreams.
Time was her worst enemy. All last week and most of this week, she’d spent every waking hour creating flyers and pounding the pavement, trying to drum up business. In hindsight, opening a new store in February might not have been the smartest move. It was cold and snowy, making it hard for customers to get out, but she wanted to be all set by spring, the time of year when people wanted to make over their homes.
By five, her body was beat, but her mind remained active. Even as she sorted through sample materials, she thought of ways to attract Trent. He was a cop and apparently was quite good with a gun. It made sense he’d appreciate a woman who could shoot, or at least one who was knowledgeable about weapons. When she’d taken her classes for her concealed weapons permit, she’d enjoyed her time at the range, so she wouldn’t have to fake her interest.
Wanting to show Trent that she understood what was important to him, she packed her gear and headed home to pick up her gun. She’d been meaning to stop by the range in Kalispell, especially after the man who wanted to harm her dad had come after her, too, but then Patty, her boss, and she had begun brainstorming expansion plans, and practicing had been put on the back burner.
Once she collected her weapon, she drove back to the range. Inside,
Charlotte purchased some ammo and found a spot at the far end. Only four of the ten slots were taken, and each of the men looked very serious about his shooting.
Charlotte’s skill was a bit rusty, but that was even more reason to practice. She loaded her Walther PPK .380 ACP, slapped on the headgear, and took aim. Damn. Her hands shook as she slid off the safety. Keeping her arms level, and her gaze down the sight, she pulled back the trigger. Instantly, a small hole appeared on the edge of the paper, and she was pleased she’d even hit the target. The recoil, though, was stronger than she remembered.
Determined to improve, she widened her stance and tried again. This time, her aim improved somewhat.
“Fancy meeting you here,” came the muffled voice behind her.
Charlotte set down her weapon, spun around, and whipped off her earmuffs. “Trent! What are you doing here? I thought you’d be working.” Her pulse soared at the unexpected meeting.
He lifted one shoulder. “This is working—kind of.” His shoulders sagged. “I probably should be tracking down some clues, but I wanted to blow off some steam.”
She didn’t dare hope it was because he was sexually frustrated after their amazing kiss. “From?”
“My brother moved back to town.”
Oh. “That’s not a good thing?” In all the time they’d spent together in protective custody at his dad’s cabin, he’d never once mentioned he had a brother.
Trent pressed his lips together as if he was trying to decide his next move. “Harmon’s been in prison for the last three years.”
Her heart nearly snapped. She couldn’t imagine the pain of having someone you cared about in jail. “May I ask what he was in for?” Please don’t say murder or some violent crime.
“Insider trading.”
“That’s not so bad. At least he didn’t kill someone.”
He chuckled. “You could look at it that way.” Trent nodded to the target. “Let’s see you take another shot.”
“So you can give me pointers?” She meant her comment to be cute, but it came off defensive. In truth, it was hard for her to take direction.