Christie Ridgway - Can't Fight This Feeling

Some vigorous sex might be just what he needed.

He opened his mouth to suggest a dinner later that week.

But then the image of dark-haired, dark-eyed Angelica popped into his thoughts. Her mouth pursed like a kiss as she blew on the surface of her hot chocolate in this very establishment.

Their actual kiss.

It had been a very bad idea. He’d said so...out loud. But that hadn’t stopped him from reaching for her. From taking her mouth, certain and sure, as she wound an arm around his neck and pressed eagerly against his body.

It was her hair that had finally stopped him. He’d buried his hands in the silky strands and the fragrant stuff had seemed alive, winding around his fingers as if it could bind him to her.

Keep him tied up until he was helpless against her and what she could do to him.

Crush him. Suck the life from him. Break him into a million little pieces.

He’d been hurt like that once before, but he sensed that the havoc that beautiful, spoiled princess Angelica could wreak would be so much worse.

With a little smile for Danielle, he patted the pocket that contained his phone. “Maybe so,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. His interest in a date with her had evaporated. “I have your number.”

She sashayed away in tight jeans and a little T-shirt, but Brett couldn’t drum up an ounce of regret.

Across the table, Jace chuckled into his coffee. “That’s a first. Ryan Hamilton’s pretty face completely ignored in favor of Brett’s grunts and grumbles. Poppy must have put out the word that the other women around town better not even glance at you.”

Ryan, looking like the movie star he’d been, settled back in his chair and eyed the still-smirking Jace. “I’m going to tell Shay you’re dying to discuss the flower arrangements for your wedding.”

Jace winced. “Ouch. That’s pretty harsh, brother.”

“Could be worse. You don’t watch it I’ll tell her you have an opinion on her Big Day hairstyle.”

The other man groaned. “Don’t. I beg you.”

Brett shook his head at the other two. “I tried to tell you both. I counseled you, even. You shouldn’t have popped the question. There’s no need for a wedding, or a marriage even. My sisters would stick with you guys without all that hoopla.”

Jace placed his coffee on the table and turned to Brett. “I want to make promises to your sister,” he said, his voice low. “And I want her to make them to me. Publicly.”

Ryan nodded, looking equally serious.

What Brett wanted was to scoff. Call them fools. But that seemed too damn rude, even for him, and he really did wish the best for the two couples. He didn’t think Poppy or Shay would ever do a number on the hearts of these two men.

Too bad his choice of female companions hadn’t always been so stellar.

Looking around the room instead of looking at them, his gaze snagged on the TV. As if to underscore his condemnation of his own lousy instincts, Lorraine Kushi’s face appeared on the screen. She’d worked for years at an LA news affiliate, and when she came on he always switched the channel to avoid the sight of her sharp beauty and the memories it dredged up. He stood now, bent on doing just that, when a name flashed on the screen. Ralph Rodriguez.

Ralph Rodriguez was the name of Angelica’s father.

Brett sank back in his seat as Lorraine reported the latest financial scandal. Angelica’s father had stolen millions of his investors’ dollars in a Ponzi scheme that had finally gone bust. The Feds had kept him in custody—for several days now—and the news had finally leaked.

His personal accounts and property had been frozen or put under the government’s control. Rumor was he’d even robbed his own daughter while trying to cover up the crisis.

Angelica. Her father jailed. Her money gone...or at least inaccessible.

Did she know?

Of course she knew. It all made sense now. The darkened house. Her creeping around inside it. He’d suspected something was off. Then there was the job at Hallett Hardware.

In this very coffee shop, she’d told him she’d once wanted to work with her father but she hadn’t been welcomed. All for the best , she’d said. I’m not suited for that kind of risk.

Not suited for the things her father did. Breaking the law. Cheating other people. Betraying family.

“Where are you going?”

He glanced at his companions, realizing he’d jumped up from his chair and was heading for the door. The two men were staring at him. “Where are you going?” Ryan repeated.

“I’ve got to go check on someone—I mean something.” He needed to see her. To make sure that she was okay. While he cursed this drive to protect her, he couldn’t deny it, either.

The morning air, as crisp as a pippin apple, didn’t cool the heated urge. But as he unlocked his truck, he realized he had no idea where to find her. Where was she living now that the mansion on the lake was in government hands?

He slid inside, trying to think it through. Hallett Hardware. It was his best bet.

But a dumb idea, he realized, as he pulled into its small parking lot. The place was dark. It wouldn’t open for another couple of hours. Frustrated, he banged on the steering wheel with the heel of his hands. Did she know the story was out?

If so, would she look for a new place to go?

Maybe she’d run from the mountains and he’d never see her again. She’d banish herself. That made sense, didn’t it?

His hands thumped the steering wheel again. Then he cursed, because there was no reason for that idea to bother him so. It was what he wanted. Distance from gorgeous Angelica Rodriguez who fascinated him in a way he was sure would only lead to disaster.

A knock on the driver’s side window caused him to jump. His head whipped around to see Vaughn Elliott, dressed in dark jeans and a wool coat. Brett had never warmed to the guy, but then again he had a knee-jerk distrust of Richie Rich types. Vaughn was certainly that. As far as Brett knew, he lived off family money and got off by playing cop. The sheriff’s volunteer patrol car that he so often cruised around in was parked beside the truck.

Vaughn knocked again on the glass.

Brett unrolled the window. “Yeah?”

“Good morning.”

“Uh-huh.” Brett stared at a shiny piece of metal that was pinned to Vaughn’s lapel. “You wear a badge now?”

The other man shifted on his feet and looked a little embarrassed. “The sheriff thought it was a good idea.”

“Right.” Wrong. Brett would bet this particular volunteer liked the—fake—authority the emblem conferred upon him. Everything about the arrogant jerk rubbed him the wrong way. “You here to arrest me?”

Vaughn looked back coolly. “Have you done something wrong?”

An image of Angelica popped into Brett’s mind again. That kiss in the shadowy hallway at Mr. Frank’s. What he’d been on the brink of doing. Sex in a public place was against the law, right? Shoving the idea of it out of his mind, he shrugged for Vaughn’s benefit. “Nothing I’m willing to share,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Thought I’d pass along the word about a burglary last night.”

Brett straightened in his seat. “Another house was broken into?”

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve heard?”

“Don Fleming clued me in a few days ago,” he said.

“Ah.” Vaughn nodded. “Well, this does seem part of the same string.”

“What was taken?”

“I don’t know all the particulars. It was the Smithfields’ vacation home. There were some silver pieces missing for sure and an antique globe in a walnut stand.”

Brett frowned. “Silver? An antique globe? That doesn’t sound like the kind of loot kids would take.”