by Lori Foster
“And yet they didn’t stick around to get even.”
God, that did sound bad. “If Fletcher is behind all this...” Her stomach pitched and she shot to her feet. “I was alone with him. He was in my house—was in it after my grandma died! He could have gotten copies of the keys easy enough.”
“Since we changed the locks, no one else has gotten in.” Miles set the cat aside and slowly came to his own feet. “There are other things to consider.”
Arms wrapped around herself, Maxi tried to fight off the hot waves of dread. It all came back to her, the mishaps, the terror—finding herself outside in the dirt. She shuddered.
Miles reached for her, but she stepped away. She had to get it together and she knew she couldn’t, not if she leaned on him.
Then suddenly she found herself spun around and against him anyway.
Glaring down at her, Miles growled, “Don’t do that.”
Her jaw loosened at his aggressive tone. “Do what?”
“Shut me out.” Hands on her shoulders, he lightly shook her. “You’re not alone, damn it.”
“I know.” His fury had just wiped away every bit of nauseating fear as if it had never been there. She even grinned. “I wasn’t exactly doing that anyway.”
“Bullshit. You’re still keeping me at a distance.”
For a minute there...yeah, she had. But she had a good reason for it. “Desperation isn’t pretty. In fact, it’s awful. No one wants to be around a desperate person.”
His scowl lifted. “More bullshit.” Then with more exasperation than anger, he blew out a breath. “One, you’re not desperate. Stubborn, sure. Sensibly frightened when things are out of your control, yes. But never desperate. And two, even if you were, I’ve already told you that I want to be there for you.”
“But—”
“No buts, damn it. You can cry, Maxi. You can get a little desperate. You can have a hundred cats and call a friendly gathering a party. Doesn’t matter.”
Unsure where he was going with this, she muttered, “It was a party.”
Miles almost smiled. “What you can’t do is shut me out.”
More and more, the things he said screamed of commitment. She dropped her forehead to his chest and nodded.
Apparently he wanted a verbal confirmation. “Okay?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, and damned if she didn’t feel tears burn the back of her throat. “Okay.”
“Good.” He hugged her off her feet, turned her toward the house and gave her a swat on the ass. “Then grab your purse and let’s get going.”
She jerked around to gasp, “I can’t leave yet! I have to change and fix my hair and—”
Now Miles laughed.
As her eyes narrowed, he managed to quell the humor long enough to ask, “How much time are we talking?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Is that all?” He came forward, scooping his arm around her and getting her walking toward the house. “You’re damn near perfect, do you know that?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Actually finish in ten minutes, and I’ll swear it’s true.”
It took her fifteen, but only because Miles insisted on changing in the same room with her. And then helping her.
With his hands on her.
And his body pressed to hers...
They left the house an hour later and got to a small diner in town just as the dinner crowd exited. That worked for Maxi in her new mellow mood.
Amazing how Miles could take her through so many emotions, and always left her content in the end.
* * *
“DON’T CORRECT ME on anything, okay?” He watched her sip her iced tea and waited for the questions.
They didn’t come.
Every time he looked at her, he thought of how quickly he’d taken her, how hard she’d wanted it and how fast she’d come apart. Damn, but it kept getting better and better.
Lambent sensuality remained in her dark eyes, and it turned him on, even though he should have been satisfied for at least a few hours.
Her lips still looked rosy and swollen, too.
When the waitress brought their food, Miles smiled at her. “It smells good.” He’d ordered the fried chicken and Maxi had gotten a club sandwich.
“The mashed potatoes are real,” she said with a wink. “And the gravy is so good you’ll want extra, so I brought it along.”
“Thank you. I take it you’re a good judge of your customers?”
“Worked here since I was fifteen, so yeah. I can usually pick a meat eater from a salad fanatic—or a man who likes his gravy.”
“Guilty,” Miles said, although as an athlete, he tended to avoid things like excess gravy. “Since you were fifteen, huh? So you’ve been here five years?”
She laughed and swatted at him. “I’m thirty-three, but thanks for the compliment.”
Just what he’d judged her to be—close to the same as Fletcher.
With his ridiculous flirting, Maxi finally tuned in, but out of curiosity, not jealousy. “That’s a long time to keep the same job. Guess you love your work?”
She propped a hip on the booth top and smiled. “I do, but it’s a family business. You’re both new here, so I guess you didn’t know that.”
“You grew up around here?” Maxi asked.
“Born and raised.”
Miles said, “So you know everyone, huh?”
“I do.” She held out her hand. “Jenny Williams.”
Maxi introduced herself and then Miles. “I inherited my grandmother’s property.”
“I knew your grandma. She was a nice lady, real kind to everyone. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
Maxi looked at him, then picked up her sandwich, leaving it to him to do his questioning.
He tried to ease into it. “Have you heard about the trouble Maxi’s been having?”
“Who hasn’t? Did Fletcher catch anyone yet?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Miles was formulating a way to further discuss Fletcher when Jenny continued.
“Well, don’t you worry. Fletcher won’t put up with that nonsense. He has a real mean streak when it’s called for. He’ll find the guy and make him sorry.”
He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect setup. “A mean streak?”
Jenny grinned. “Mean and hot-tempered. You don’t want to be on his bad side.”
“No,” he lied, “I don’t. In fact, I heard something about him going after a few punks with a ball bat.”
Jenny sobered. “Yeah, but that was for Anna.” She shook her head. “Poor girl.”
Maxi paused, staring at her. “What happened to her?”
Jenny, a world-class gossip, slid into the seat beside Maxi and lowered her voice. “She got mixed up with some bad people.” Even lower, she added, “Drugs.”
“How terrible.” With honest sympathy, Maxi said, “Poor Woody.”
“It was bad on him. Here he was raising them like his own—you know his daughter died right, and Fletcher and Annie came to him?”
“Yes, Woody told us,” Miles said.
“He did? That’s a surprise. Usually Woody won’t discuss it.”
“Someone else brought it up first,” Maxi said.
Jenny accepted that. “Well, Woody did everything he could to keep those boys away from Annie. He knew she was getting her drugs from them. Then one night it got really bad. Fletcher found her, totally out of it, at a party and he flipped. He took her home but then went back with that bat. It wasn’t just two boys he laid low that night. It was everyone at that party—until he found out who’d given her the drugs. Those two got the worst of it.”
“I heard he put them
in the hospital.”
“They’re lucky he didn’t kill them.”
“Telling tales, Jenny?”
Jenny and Maxi jumped in guilt. Miles slowly straightened in satisfaction.
Fletcher stood there, his expression masked, until Jenny made her excuses and hurried away.
The officer turned to watch her go, then smiled down at Maxi. “We used to date a few years back. She’s a gossip, but a sweet one. You’ll like her, just don’t ever tell her your secrets.”
Seeing Fletcher flirt with Maxi right in front of him infuriated Miles. “What secrets of yours did she tell?”
Fletcher turned a steely gaze on him. “I know better than to tell her any.” He gave a curt nod and walked away.
Soon as Fletcher was far enough away, Maxi melted across the table with a groaned “Oh my God, that was awkward.”
He almost laughed. Picking up a long lock of her hair, he teased, “You’re not cut out for this, are you?”
“Subterfuge?” She lifted her head to glare at him. “Veiled threats? No, absolutely not.”
“I learned more than I expected to.” He wound the silky strands around his finger. “Jenny is apparently an endless well of info. Wonder if I can lure her back by ordering chocolate cake.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Maxi freed her hair and straightened, then pushed her half-eaten sandwich away. “I lost my appetite.”
“I didn’t.” He dug into the fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and he had to admit, the gravy was incredible.
He did order the chocolate cake, but with Fletcher sitting a few booths away, Jenny tried not to linger.
Miles had to ask, “Are you afraid of him?”
The surprise on Jenny’s face, along with her laugh, was answer enough, but she added, “Afraid of Fletcher? No, of course not. But he’s a friend and I don’t want him to know I talked about him. What he did back then, defending his sister, he sees it different than most. While the town cheered him, he was disgusted with the whole thing. He’d worked hard to turn himself around, even became a cop. These days when he loses his temper, he just gets quiet. Real intense.”
“So you haven’t seen a repeat of the violence?”
She glanced at Fletcher, then away. “He’s a nice guy. You should ask him about this stuff.”
After she left, Miles asked Maxi, “What do you think?”
She took her time answering, even stole a bite of his cake. “I honestly don’t know. Fletcher has been nothing but nice since I came here.”
“Nice because you haven’t seen his temper yet.”
“Maybe. But if that’s all in his past, should we really hold it against him? I don’t want to be a hypocrite. God knows I’ve made too many mistakes myself.”
“Any mistakes you made didn’t include a ball bat.”
Regret shifted her gaze away and lowered her voice. “No, it involved destruction of my family’s home.”
Miles reached across the table, taking her small hand in his. She was a delicate woman, small-boned but with a backbone of steel. He looked at her hand, running his thumb over the edge of her short nails. The manicure was gone, but to him she was even more beautiful in her ability to stand firm against all odds. “You trusted the wrong person, babe, that’s all. Let’s not do that again, okay?”
“You’re saying not to trust Fletcher?”
Rather than answer that, because he wasn’t quite sure what he felt about it, Miles said, “I feel like we’re onto something here. Don’t you?”
“Actually...I do.” She sighed. “But I hate it. He’s so well respected. If we’re right and he’s behind all the trouble, and if we can prove it, how will I ever get accepted here?”
He hadn’t thought about that. True, he didn’t want to do anything to upset her ultimate goal: settling in Burlwood, Ohio, for the long haul. She wanted to live in her grandmother’s home—now very much her home—where she could care for the cats and the land and her soon-to-be-acquired goats. The atmosphere, the openness, suited her. It was like she was always meant to be there.
But then, it often felt like he was meant to be there, too.
“It’s early yet. Let’s do some more asking around before we tackle problems that might not be there.”
Relieved, she nodded and started to stand.
He said, “Don’t freak out, but I have a few questions for Fletcher first.”
Her behind dropped right back in the seat. “But—”
Already on his feet, Miles put money on the table, enough to cover a nice tip—because Jenny had surely earned it—and then drew her up beside him. “It’ll be fine.”
In a low whisper she begged, “No fighting, not in here.”
“Hadn’t planned to throw any punches, and Fletcher doesn’t have a ball bat, so no reason to worry.” She couldn’t say more because they’d already reached the officer’s side.
Fletcher paused in eating a meat loaf dinner, his gaze on only Maxi. “Did you enjoy your meal?”
“I did, thank you.”
“Everything is home-cooked here.”
Miles asked, “Mind if we join you for just a minute?” He didn’t wait for Fletcher to deny him, already urging Maxi into the seat.
Fletcher laughed. “Using her for bait? You know I won’t refuse her, but you now...you could take a hike.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Miles sat beside her. “I’m curious about the police department here. So far all we’ve seen is you, but there have to be other officers, right?”
Fletcher shrugged while shoveling in another bite of his meal. He took his time chewing, wiping his mouth with his napkin, taking a drink.
Miles had to admit, the guy was gutsy. He wouldn’t bow easily to pressure—of any kind.
Finally, Fletcher gave his attention to the question. “Besides the chief, there are nine of us full-time and a handful of part-timers. You don’t see anyone else because Maxi lives in the area I cover.”
“24/7, huh?”
“Pretty much.” He crossed his arms on the table. “There’s not a lot of crime around here, so middle-of-the-night calls are few and far between. Since I’m already familiar with the history and what’s happened, it wouldn’t make sense for someone else to have to play catch-up.”
“If there’s so little crime, why the hell do you have nine full-time cops?”
“Being in the country means a lot of ground to cover. You’re talking more than forty square miles. When something happens, the citizens don’t want to wait an hour for someone to show up.”
“That makes sense,” Miles allowed. “What kind of crime have you had?”
“Mostly vandalism, domestic violence and sometimes reckless driving, especially during the summer during school break.”
“No robbery?” He watched Fletcher. “No drugs?”
The other man didn’t even blink. “Occasionally both, but it’s not a big problem here.”
“Not since you ran off the guys bothering your sister?”
That got a reaction. Fletcher’s eyes narrowed and his mouth curved in warning. “So you did your homework? Big fucking deal. It’s old news.”
Miles didn’t back down. “What happened to those men—after you laid them up?”
“Don’t know, don’t care, so if you’re thinking to get a confession out of me, well, here’s one for you—if they were still around, I’d do it again, and this time I’d make sure they couldn’t crawl away.” He abruptly stood, threw a twenty on the table and stalked out.
Jenny, seeing that, ran after him, her expression full of angst.
Much of the diners stared at them with disapproval. Had everyone overheard? Probably. Fletcher hadn’t exactly been quiet in his replies.
“I feel terrible,” Maxi whispered.
&nb
sp; Yeah, he didn’t feel so great himself. He’d wanted to ask Fletcher where his sister was now, but given his reaction, he was glad he hadn’t. “Let’s go.”
Maxi smiled at all the gawkers, then stood to join him yet again. In no way did she look cowed by their censure. Instead, she kept her head up, that placid smile in place.
Miles took her hand, saying, “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”
Surprise replaced the smile. “Proud?”
“Very. Never forget that, okay?”
She still looked flummoxed when they got outside and found Fletcher waiting for them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE SECOND FLETCHER noticed them, he pushed away from his car and walked over. Again, he spoke only to Maxi when he said, “I apologize for being rude. Since she moved away, any talk of Anna sets me off.”
Possessiveness prodding him, Miles kept his arm around Maxi but said nothing. If Fletcher would confide in her, he could handle that. Maybe.
“I’m sorry,” Maxi said. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I didn’t think you had.” Other than that barb, he ignored Miles. “Believe it or not, Maxi, I don’t want to see you hurt. And no, you don’t have to say anything. I get it, I really do. So if it’s what you want, I’ll arrange for another officer to take over.”
Hell no, Miles wouldn’t let him put her on the spot like that, not when he could shoulder the blame for the decision. “It’s what she wants.”
Finally, he looked at Miles. “I don’t like it, but in your position I’d probably do the same.” Seconds ticked by while Fletcher’s jaw flexed and his gaze hardened. “I guess you’re going to be around awhile?”
Miles answered with his own hard, anticipatory smile. “You guessed right.”
“Now wait a minute!” Maxi tried to step in front of him, but Miles held her back, so she aimed her cannon at Fletcher. “Whether he’s here or not, I’m the one making the decisions.”
Her misunderstanding earned her a squeeze. “He wasn’t questioning your independence.”
Standing her ground, she said, “Sure sounded like it to me.”
Miles actually laughed. “He’s just hopeful that my time here is coming to an end.”