by Vella Day
“I see Devon survived the first cut,” he said, his lips too close to her ear. His breath tickled the hairs on her neck and sent shivers of delight right between her legs.
He must have thought she’d come just to see Devon. “So it seems.”
“Who are you cheering for?”
So that was the reason for the visit. Charlotte debated what to say then decided to go with the truth. “No one in particular.”
She’d come to study their expert form and execution to help improve her shooting. Since Devon had asked her, she thought it only polite to show up because she’d said she would.
When Trent stepped next to her, her shoulder touched his arm. He smiled, and sparks of need raced through her. She really needed to gain some control of herself, especially if this relationship wasn’t going anywhere—or was it?
For the next few minutes they watched the pool go from three men down to two. Finally, the targets were pulled down for the judges to check the scores.
With his weapon down and his ear protection off, Devon turned around, spotted her in the crowd, and waved. She glanced up at Trent and his posture stiffened. Stupid man. Trent had to know she only had eyes for him.
Charlotte had no idea how long it would take the judges to choose a winner, but she wanted to stay long enough to learn the outcome. While they waited, she turned toward Trent. “Any news on the case?”
A small smile spread across his face, and he slowly shook his head. “You know better than to ask, Ms. Hart. There was one thing I forgot to mention, however.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you know that Mr. Goddard was Harmon’s boss at Ardton Investments?”
She searched her brain but came up empty. “No, I had no idea. When your brother and I were talking, he mentioned who he worked with and who he thought might have framed him, but I honestly didn’t pay attention to the names. Do you think this will affect his ability to prove his innocence?”
Trent stared at her for a long minute. “What makes you so sure he wasn’t involved in insider trading?”
“I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty good at reading people.” She failed to keep the challenge from her voice. If Trent didn’t believe his own brother, the proof must have been damning. Her heart sank for both of them. At least, Harmon had done his time.
Trent’s face softened. “I hope you’re right. It’s the cop in me that wants to question everything.”
Her father was the same way.
Trent placed his palm on her back and twisted her toward the glass enclosure. “Dan Hartwick is about to make the announcement of the winner.”
As much as she had been interested in who won, she wanted to learn about Trent more.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out. It is very important that the fine men of Rock Hard Police Department do their best for its citizens, so I am pleased to announce that the winner of this year’s indoor sharpshooting competition is Connor Douglas.”
Devon and Connor shook hands as the audience applauded and cheered.
Trent’s hand returned to her back. “Care to join me for dinner?”
She hadn’t expected the invitation—now or ever. “I’d love to, thank you.” Today had turned out better than she’d ever thought possible.
“Do you mind walking?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
As Trent escorted her outside, she thought Devon had called her name, but right now, all she wanted to do was be with Trent. Charlotte tried to tamp down her expectations about their date and prayed she wouldn’t blow it. The last two times she’d been the one to kiss him, and that had ended badly. She hoped that if he came back to her place tonight, she’d be able to control herself.
She looked up at Trent. “Do you think you could’ve beaten Connor?”
“Doubtful. I have every intention of spending some time at the range each week, but I seem to be too busy.”
Trent didn’t look happy about working all the time. “Have you considered slowing down? Or maybe even working as a private investigator?”
His brows rose. “Do you think I’d be happy doing what your dad does?”
She honestly hadn’t given it a lot of thought. “I know my father is a lot happier not working for the FBI because now he can pick and choose the cases he works. I think having my mother in his life again has changed him. Dad wants to spend more time with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hires someone to lighten his load.”
“I’ll keep that employment opportunity in mind, but I like to think that as a cop, I’m doing some good for society.”
His attitude was admirable. They arrived at the Steerhouse and as soon as they stepped inside, she could see this was a really nice place. “Do you come here often?”
“You mean do I take my dates here?”
She wasn’t sure what she was asking. “Maybe.”
“No. I don’t date all that often.”
The hostess seated them quickly since it was still early for dinner, and the waiter rushed over and took their drink order.
“I’ll have a glass of the house red wine,” she said.
“Beer for me.” Trent leaned back in the seat. “I don’t know what to do about you, Charlotte Hart.”
Oh, shit. “Do?”
“I like you. In fact I like you a lot.”
I knew it! She almost jumped out of her seat. Keeping calm was almost impossible, though she didn’t know why he seemed so concerned about the situation. “You have a funny way of showing it sometimes.” Damn. She just couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut. Her mom always accused her of speaking her mind too often, and she was right.
He unrolled the white linen napkin, removed the utensils, and placed the cloth on his lap. “Here’s the thing: you deserve better.”
Her jaw dropped. “How can you say that?”
“I’m good at my job and am able to protect people, but I’m not really good with emotions. You’d only get hurt in the end.”
She wished he’d stop saying that. “How about letting me decide?”
He blew out a breath and glanced to the side. “I know Harmon mentioned our dad was a cop.”
“He did, and he also said your father had high standards for himself, which you inherited.”
His eyes slightly widened. “Harmon said that?”
“Yes. Your dad was a workaholic and that in the end it cost him his health and his wife. Is that what you’re aspiring to?”
“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “I’m not trying to be like my dad. I know I have my faults, but helping people makes me feel good.”
“Helping people makes me feel good, too, but it doesn’t mean you have to give your life for the job. There are more important things than work.” Like someone to love.
The waiter delivered their drinks, and Trent tipped back his beer. “I’m not sure if I can change. Being ambitious is built into who I am as a person.”
His answer seemed too simple. “What about your mother?”
His green eyes darkened. “I guess Harmon didn’t tell you the whole story. My mother was killed a year after she divorced my father. I was only twelve.”
Pain stabbed her gut. She wished she hadn’t asked. “I’m very sorry.”
He dragged his thumb down the label tearing the paper into shreds. “I was at her house complaining about having no cookies to eat. I whined so much that she gave in and went to the store. On her way, some criminal avoiding capture slammed into the driver’s side of her car, and she died immediately.”
“How terrible. Were you with her?”
“No. I stayed back at her house.”
A strong ache coursed through her. “I can’t imagine what you went through. What did you do when she didn’t show up?”
“It was all a blur. I called Dad, and eventually, he came and picked me up. I can’t imagine what he went through though, having to tell me my mother was dead.” He looked up to the ceiling and pressed his lips together. It looked as if the gui
lt was still eating at him. “All because I wanted a bag of cookies.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known she’d be in a accident.”
He returned his gaze to her and tapped his skull. “I know that up here, but in my heart, I regret it every day.”
Trent needed to give himself a break. “How did Harmon take the news?”
“He was at school at the time. He came home for a week after she died, but then threw himself into his studies. It was his way of coping.” Trent leaned forward on his elbows. “Cops put their life on the line every single day. We chose our profession knowing full well we could be snuffed out at any moment, but my mother didn’t deserve to die that way.”
Charlotte reached out and cupped his hand. “No one deserves to die that way, but bad stuff happens.” His pain seemed to radiate from deep within. “You were just a kid, but even as an adult, you couldn’t have prevented it.”
“I guess.” He huffed out a breath. “I never understood what really happened between her and my father to make her leave in the first place. Dad never would talk about it. When I asked my mom, she just said she couldn’t take the long hours and never knowing if dad would come home at night. At the time, I didn’t really believe her. I always thought that if I had been a better kid, she might have stayed.”
The agony streaming across his face tore at her heart. Charlotte shook her head. “I felt the same way. Only it was with my dad.”
He looked hard at her. “How? You told me a few things about the situation in the cabin, but I thought Vic left your mom because his job was too dangerous.”
“That’s what he told us, but after he left, I wondered if I hadn’t complained to my dad so much about missing my birthday parties and him not spending Christmas with us, he might have stayed. Like you, I thought if I’d been better, he wouldn’t have walked out of our lives. I was older than you, but I still thought the world revolved around me. At the time, I had no idea that my father was willing to give his life for this country, and that his leaving had nothing to do with me.
Since the incident with the stalker, Dad and I have talked a lot. His biggest regret was not seeing me grow up. I’m just thrilled we were given a second chance.”
She sipped her wine to clear the clogging in her throat. When she looked up, Trent had a small smile on his face that she could best describe as passion.
“Harmon was right,” he said. “We do have a lot in common.”
Chapter Eight
Trent had never connected with someone as much as he had with Charlotte. She really seemed to get him, in part because they both had a parent who had issues dealing with his job. Somehow in telling his story, Trent could see that he, too, had been quite full of himself by thinking his mom’s death had been his fault. That guilt, along with being a cop, made him keep his distance from women. In hindsight, that might have been a cover up for some deeper issue. Charlotte was right in another way, too. People died for all sorts of reasons, yet he thought it ironic that his father was still alive despite having been in many shootouts.
After dinner, Trent told Charlotte that he wanted to follow her home because he needed to make sure she made it safely, and that while she’d only had two drinks over a two-hour period, her reflexes could be impaired. The truth was that he wanted to follow her home because he hoped she’d invite him in.
Trent pulled to a stop behind Charlotte’s car in front of her house and rushed to open her car door.
As she slipped out, she looked up and smiled. “Do you want to come in?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” he said, mentally pumping his fist. This time, if Charlotte kissed him, he wouldn’t stop her. Hell, it would take all of his willpower not to rip off her clothes and make love to her for hours on end.
He escorted her onto the porch where she stuck her hand into her purse and then frowned. “I know the front door key is in here someplace.”
He was about to ask why she didn’t keep it on the same ring as her ignition, but he didn’t want to imply she wasn’t capable of handling herself. He hoped she found it, as he didn’t want to have to take her back to his place since Harmon would be there. Tomorrow his brother was thankfully moving into his own apartment.
She lifted the key in her fingers. “Ta da!”
“Good job.”
In seconds, she had the door open. When she flipped on the rather glaring overhead light, he appreciated the soft lamps she’d had on before.
Charlotte would probably offer him coffee or perhaps another beer, and then they’d talk about her new business or one of his old cases, as she seemed fascinated by the scope of his job. As much as he enjoyed chatting, once he’d decided that he wanted Charlotte, his patience had run out. The urge to undress her one piece at a time was driving him crazy.
They both slipped off their jackets, and as she placed them on the back of the sofa Trent moved toward her. “Did I tell you how hot you look tonight?”
She might not be wearing a sweater as tight as the one she had on the other night, but her soft pullover showed off her curves just as well.
She grinned and stroked her chin. “I can’t recall. Maybe you did.”
“If my words didn’t sink in, then perhaps I need to show you.” His cock turned rigid at the thought of kissing her.
“Oh, yeah?”
Charlotte moved close and placed her palms on his chest, the heat from her fingers searing through the shirt to his skin. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could taste it, but he didn’t want to rush her. It didn’t matter that she’d come on to him twice before. Life had taught him that he should take it slowly, but damn, whenever he was around Charlotte, his common sense seemed to vanish.
She grabbed hold of his shirt, and when she tugged it out of his jeans, all he could think of was getting her naked and then sucking on those luscious tits.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable this way.” She dragged her fingers close to his throat and lightly brushed his chest hairs. “So soft.”
He wiggled a bit. “It’s a little tight around the neck. Do you think you can do something about that?”
She bit down on her lip in the sexiest way possible. “I can try.”
Slower than dripping molasses, she threaded the top one he’d buttoned through the hole and then moved down to the second one.
“That feels much better. Please keep going.” His mouth was dry, and he should ask for a beer, but he didn’t want to stop the seduction.
She stepped even closer if that was possible and looked up at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me, Detective.”
Hell, yeah, he was. “And if I am?”
As she ran a finger down the length of his shirt and unbuttoned it from the bottom upward, her scent distracted him. The woman had totally bewitched him.
“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked, looking rather innocent.
Once she finished unbuttoning his shirt, Charlotte slipped her hands under the material and slowly dragged her palms downward, testing his resolve.
“Trust me?” Either what she was doing to him had messed with his head or she was trying to be coy.
She wrapped her hands around his waist and pressed her body against him. “If I recall, you always walk out on me after I kiss you.”
Ah. He’d apologized for that hurtful action at dinner—a few times. “I don’t remember any such thing.” He raised his chin, trying to look offended, but he probably failed.
“Hmm. Then is it safe to say that if I kiss you, you won’t run away?”
Trent couldn’t keep his hands off the little temptress any longer and threaded his fingers through her hair, his palms cupping her cheeks. “I say give it a go and hope for the best.”
Her hands slid down to his butt, and this time it was her turn to squeeze each cheek. “How about you kiss me?”
“Do you think you can handle what might come afterward?” His damned heart was beating way too fast.
> She slid her hands around to the front and popped open the top button of his jeans. “You won’t know unless you try.”
That was all he needed to hear. Trent leaned over and kissed that sassy mouth of hers. For one night, he wouldn’t think about whether he was good enough for her; he’d just enjoy the moment. When she slid her tongue into his mouth, his need exploded, and the urge to take her hard nearly did him in. Charlotte deserved to be loved and not fucked, but right now he wasn’t sure if he could go slow.
As their tongues dipped and parried, she seduced his mouth. Needing air, he broke the kiss. “I’m not running out on you this time. I promise.”
She grinned. “You better not.”
Trent dragged a finger between her breasts. “To ensure I stay, perhaps you ought to take off your top.”
She laughed, and the pleasure shot straight through him. “You want to help?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
* * *
Charlotte couldn’t believe she was about to make love with Trent Lawson, the man she’d been dreaming about for months. Sure, it was great that he’d protected her when someone was out to harm her, but it was the way he treated her that she really loved. Trent was kind and considerate, and she bet he’d be that way in bed, too. He acted as if he was always in control, but now she could see that he was dealing with inner demons and was probably afraid to let loose.
He dragged his hands under her sweater, and when he cupped her breasts, every nerve in her body shot to life. Needing to see more of him, she popped open the rest of the buttons on his jeans. She meant to keep her focus on his face so that she could tell what he was thinking, but his hard cock sticking out let her know what was on his mind. “Someone’s happy to be free.”
“You have no idea.”
He slid his hands around her back and unhooked her bra in a second. When his thumbs reached in front and strummed her nipples, her legs weakened. His very touch sent her spiraling.
“Somebody likes to be stroked, I see.”
“Maybe.” From the way her fingers were trembling and her breathing was too fast, he had to know she was lying. “Perhaps if you take off my sweater you might have a better idea if I’m enjoying it.”