by Ranae Rose
“You can let me know if anything turns up on another business’ security footage. I’d like to know who stole my stuff.” A hard gleam flashed in her eyes, and she pushed back her shoulders, all business again.
“Right. I’ll let you know if anything turns up.”
She looked like she wanted to personally smack some sense into whoever’d robbed her store, and he got the sense that her bad side was an unpleasant place to be.
“Have a good afternoon, Miss Argent.” He gathered up his borrowed staple gun and turned for the door. A sense of reluctance dogged him across the shop, although he couldn’t have said why – he had no business being unhappy to leave a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
“You too.” She’d already disappeared behind the counter. “Thanks for the help.”
He pushed open the door, causing a little bell to jingle.
The rain was pelting down when he stepped outside. It quickly soaked his uniform as he hurried to his cruiser, breathing in the chemical scent of motor oils washed to the surface of the streets.
It wasn’t the nicest of island days – not for Miss Argent, and not for him. It wasn’t the rain that bothered him, though. It was the storm cloud he’d sensed inside the shop, clinging like an aura of unhappiness to the woman he’d tried to help.
He’d solved the problem of her shattered window, but it didn’t seem to have done much to lift her mood. Glancing at the rain-streaked tarp, he could just make out the blurry shape of her beautiful figure behind the counter.
What was her real problem?
He wondered for a second before his MDT chimed, and he marked himself en route to a traffic accident a couple blocks away. As Charmed disappeared in his rearview mirror, he couldn’t shake the feeling that despite what he’d done, he hadn’t really helped all that much.
And he hated that feeling, almost as much as he hated knowing a gorgeous woman like Peyton Argent was out of his reach simply because she was one of the many who’d never see beyond a uniform.
CHAPTER 3
Peyton’s feet dragged as she walked to the bus stop around the corner from her house, carrying an umbrella.
The day had been a total bust. Rain always depressed sales, and she’d been so busy dealing with insurance and the contractor that she hadn’t gotten around to advertising the week’s special. Business had been dismal – so far, the day’s income wasn’t worth keeping the lights on for.
Nonetheless, she was currently paying the utilities and her only employee’s wages. Julie worked from three until closing every weekday, plus Saturdays. The hours allowed Peyton to meet her nine year old nephew at the bus stop and fix him an after school snack before heading back to work at Charmed.
As the school bus rumbled down the street and slowed to a groaning halt, guilt swept over her. Logically, she knew it wasn’t her fault that the shop had been robbed. But the idea of telling Madison about the damage – and the insurance deductible – made her break into a sweat.
The feeling eased just a little when Jace climbed off the bus and flashed her a grin. “Aunt Peyton.”
“Hey, buddy.” She narrowly resisted the urge to extend an arm so they could walk back to the house hand-in-hand like they’d done when he’d been a little younger.
He was such a cute kid, and had a long way to go before he grew out of being adorable. The only person she’d ever seen with hair the same dark, rusty shade of red as his had been his father. It was gorgeous – almost unreal. Combined with his grey eyes and bright smile, it was obvious he’d be drop-dead handsome, someday.
Like his father had been.
“Guess what?” Jace walked with his backpack hanging from one shoulder, a spring in his step.
“What?”
“I got a ninety-five on my spelling test.”
“Wow.” Peyton indulged in a genuine smile. Spelling wasn’t Jace’s strong suit, and he’d been studying hard lately. “We’ll have to go for ice cream after I close up shop tonight.”
“Really?” He bounced on his toes.
“Really.” Her guilt came rushing back. How long had it been since they’d done something like that?
“Awesome. I want rocky road.”
They rounded the corner and approached the house, a modest Cape Cop with a main floor, a generously sized attic and a nice, columned porch – although the columns were overdue for a fresh coat of white paint.
Peyton unlocked the front door, letting herself and Jace in. The absolute silence told her that Madison was asleep.
Knowing wasn’t good enough – Peyton had to see. Slipping down the hall, she approached Madison’s bedroom door and knocked.
No reply. She turned the knob and peered inside.
The human-shaped lump in the center of the bed was definitely Madison – her wavy brown hair was fanned across the pillow. Otherwise, she was burrowed under the comforter, lying on one side.
Peyton watched until she detected the rise and fall of Madison’s side, then quietly shut the door.
She waited until she was a couple steps away to breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was wake her sister up – the pain sometimes made it tough to sleep, so when she was able to, Peyton tiptoed around no matter what time of day it was.
Jace was good about it too.
“Homework?” Peyton asked, keeping her voice low.
Jace sighed. “English. And math.”
She opened the fridge and pulled a block of cheddar from a drawer. “I can help you with your English while you’re snacking. Then you’ll have the hard stuff out of the way.”
It never took him long to do his math homework. He was great with numbers, unlike Peyton or Madison. It was one more quality he’d inherited from his dad.
“Okay…”
Jace reluctantly cracked open his English book while Peyton sliced cheese and pulled a box of crackers from a cupboard.
“Since Mom is asleep, does that mean I have to go to work with you?”
Peyton frowned down at the snack platter. For the past three weeks, she’d completely arranged her schedule – and Jace’s – around Madison’s recovery.
It wasn’t that Madison had asked her to do so; it was just that Peyton couldn’t stand to see her sister suffer. Not after what she’d already been through. She wanted Madison to feel better like she wanted her next breath.
“We’re getting ice cream after I close tonight, remember?” She continued arranging crackers on the platter. “That won’t be much fun if you don’t come along. Besides, I’ll be able to help you with your homework if you do.”
It was hard not to feel guilty over forcing a nine year old boy to hang out at a lingerie boutique, although she’d set up a comfortable space for him in the breakroom.
Still, the arrangement was pretty lame compared to the fun things Madison had often done with him after school, before the accident.
In some families, aunts were the cool ones – beloved figures who swooped in and swept kids away for breaks from the mundane.
Peyton definitely wasn’t a cool aunt. If anything, it was the other way around – Madison was the fun one. And Peyton couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t doing a very good job of filling her shoes.
* * * * *
When Elijah drove by Charmed on his way to lunch on Thursday, the plastic sheeting he’d hung was still there. Slowing to a stop by the curb, he frowned.
Where was the new window? His uncle had promised to send someone out yesterday.
He shut off his cruiser and climbed out – lunch could wait.
The little bell above the door jingled as he entered, and he saw Peyton right away. She was bent over the counter with a marker in hand, her long hair hanging in front of her face. As he approached, she flipped it out of the way and straightened. “Welcome to— Oh.”
Her surprise was obvious, and he thought he detected a hint of disappointment, too. Not that he could blame her for not being happy to see him if no one had shown up to tak
e care of her window.
“Afternoon, Miss Argent. Hope today is going better for you than yesterday. Did anyone come by to take a look at that window?”
She set down her marker and nodded. “Yeah. A cousin of yours, I think. He said they have to order a new pane, and it’ll take a few days.”
“I see.” Relief erased his worry. He should’ve thought of that, but then, there was a reason he hadn’t gone into the family contracting business.
“He said the plastic sheeting should hold up until then, so the only real problem is the aesthetic one. That and the security risk – not that there’s anything left to steal in here, unless there’s a panty thief on the loose.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard anything about a panty thief, and something tells me the news would make it around the department pretty quick if we had one around here.”
Her mouth twitched so briefly – almost smiling – that he almost thought he’d imagined it.
“Did you stop by just to check on the window?” she asked.
“No. I also wanted to let you know that nothing turned up on any neighboring businesses’ security footage, probably because most of the businesses on this street don’t have security surveillance installed.”
She frowned, then shrugged. “I guess it wasn’t like I was going to get my stuff back, anyway. And I’ve already filed an insurance claim.”
“Have you considered upgrading your store’s security?”
“Upgrading? That’s a nice way to put it, considering the fact that it’s basically nonexistent right now.”
He stifled the urge to echo her sentiments. At least she recognized that there was a problem.
“I’d love to install some high-tech stuff, but it’s just not in the budget right now.”
“Was being robbed in your budget?”
Her gaze snapped to his, and she frowned.
“I’m just saying: with that big, unsecured window and your complete lack of surveillance or an alarm, you’re an easy target. Plus it’s mostly retail establishments on this street, so it’s fairly deserted late at night. Whoever stole your electronics might come back after you replace them and help themselves again.”
Her brow creased, and a dent appeared in her lower lip. God help him, he found the pout cute – sexy, even.
“I didn’t think of it that way.” Her tone was weary.
“I highly recommend it.”
She nodded. “I’ll look into it. It’s just … times are tough.”
She picked up the surface she’d been writing on when he’d walked in: a rectangular chalkboard. The words written in hot pink chalk marker caught his eye and demanded that he read and reread to be sure he’d gotten it right.
Get your panties in a bunch and help those in need. Our most popular styles discounted for our annual Island Women’s Refuge panty drive, now through May 21st.
She’d even drawn a tiny pair of lacy underwear in one corner.
He couldn’t help but stare as she carried it to the end of the counter and propped it up on a little wooden easel, where the neon message was on bold display for all customers.
His gaze drifted to her jeans, where her shapely ass was hugged by embroidered pockets. It was hard not to wonder whether she wore a pair of lacy panties beneath.
“Is something wrong?” She turned to face him again, depriving him of the fantastic view.
“I was reading your sign.”
“Oh. We do this every year.”
“Do what, exactly?”
“A panty drive for the local women’s shelter. Most people don’t realize that undergarments are some of the most needed items. Every spring, we run a month-long sale where we donate one pair of underwear for every four pairs a customer buys.”
“That’s generous.” It sounded expensive for someone who claimed she couldn’t afford security for her shop, but he didn’t say that out loud. Who was he to criticize her charity? The world needed more people willing to make sacrifices like that.
She shrugged, as if it were nothing. “It feels right to help, even if only in such a small way.”
“I’m sure your donations are a big deal to the people who receive them.”
She paused and her mouth twitched in another one of those almost-smiles.
The sight gave him pause too, making him feel strangely good.
“Usually, I put a big sign in the window, but that’ll have to wait until next week.”
She sounded genuinely put out by the delay.
“I’m sorry your window couldn’t be repaired sooner.”
“Don’t be. I appreciate the help, even if—”
The bell over the door jingled before she could finish her sentence, and her gaze shifted to the entrance.
“Hi, Ellen.”
The middle-aged woman who’d entered must’ve been a regular customer, because she greeted Peyton by name.
“Today’s the first day of your annual drive for the women’s refuge, right?”
“That’s right.” A brilliant smile flashed across Peyton’s face. “All the styles on the two tables by the end of the counter are included.”
Peyton’s smile was full of a warmth she’d never shown Elijah, and it was captivating.
The customer shot him a curious look, but barely paused before turning to the sale table.
Still, he knew women wouldn’t want a cop breathing down their neck while they shopped for underwear. It was time for him to go.
“Officer Bennett.”
He turned his attention back to Peyton. “Yes?”
“Thanks for the help with the window.” Her expression was soft, with a tiny hint of the warmth she’d shown her customer. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. It was nothing.”
For a second, she looked like she was going to speak, but then she pressed her lips firmly together.
Reluctantly, Elijah turned for the door. Another customer was just entering, and he didn’t want to deter the sales Peyton needed with his presence.
“Goodbye,” he said. “And good luck with the window. Let me know if you have any questions about getting security installed.”
She just nodded.
As he left, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d smile at him like she had her customer if he walked inside with the intent to purchase a bagful of panties.
If so, it’d almost be worth the embarrassment.
* * * * *
Elijah was out of the department’s roll call room and almost to the stairs when a familiar voice made his shoulders tense.
“Bennett.”
He turned slowly to face Rogers, contemplating striding for the stairs without another word spoken between them. On her short little legs, she’d never catch up.
“What?” Instead of fleeing, he stared down at the small thirty-something officer with an almost-visible chip on her shoulder. She had a deep line between her eyes, like she always did when she spoke to him.
“I spoke to my grandmother yesterday.”
He blinked, then cast a glance around the floor. Left and right, officers from their shift were leaving to begin patrol. “Congratulations.”
Since when did Rogers give him updates on the dull minutiae of her personal life? Something was off.
She rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder she didn’t need to head to the ER for treatment of ocular trauma.
“My grandmother Stella Delaney.”
He glanced around again, searching for some sign that someone – anyone – else had noticed what was going on. Was Rogers really wanting to chat with him about her grandma, or was he hallucinating?
The latter seemed just as possible as the former – he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Too-hot dreams of Peyton Argent and her sexy body had woken him up at half past three, damning his chances at getting any more rest.
Yeah, it’d been a while. Apparently, coming into contact with a bombshell like Peyton had messed with his subconscious.
“She runs Delaney
Hardware with my grandfather,” Rogers said, speaking slowly, as if he was a small child.
“Oh.” Surprise flared like a supernova in his mind. Rogers was related to sweet-as-sugar Mrs. Delaney?
It didn’t seem possible.
“Small world,” he said, eyeing the door.
“Small island. Anyway, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
A sense of foreboding crept over him. Was she going to give him crap over removing the mangy rat from her grandmother’s storage room? He wouldn’t put it past her, and he didn’t have time to waste for that – he had a shift to start.
“I need to get on the road.”
“I know. But I didn’t know about the rodent incident until yesterday. I guess my grandmother was embarrassed to tell me she called 911 over a rat.” Rogers shrugged. “But it came up.”
“And?”
“She was bitten on the finger by a rat when she was a little kid. It gave her an infection, and she had to go to the hospital. She’s had a phobia ever since, so … it’s lucky that you were there that day.”
Elijah stood in stunned silence. Had Rogers just thanked him?
Close enough. This was the most amicable conversation they’d had since the day he’d accidentally gotten her with a Taser during their training at the academy.
That’d been a solid five years ago and she’d never forgiven him, despite his many apologies.
“Just doing my job.”
Rogers didn’t argue. She did, however, open her mouth to speak again.
“Listen, Gail and I are having an engagement party next weekend. You’re invited.”
“I am?” A ripple of suspicion passed through him.
“Yeah. I sent out paper invitations to everyone else a few weeks ago, but I figured I’d just invite you myself.”
He didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted that she’d made his invitation a personal mission.
“Right. You really want me at your engagement party?”
She looked at him like he was dense. “My grandmother will be there. I know she’ll be happy to see you.”
That was probably as close as he was going to get to ‘yes’.