EVEN THOUGH SHE didn’t make the shower very warm, the glass doors still steamed up, sealing her in her own little cocoon. She usually took great pleasure in her shower, but tonight, not so much.
At the opposite corner of the house from the kitchen, she couldn’t hear the others anymore. It left her...antsy.
Trying to ignore the rising uneasiness, she rinsed the soap from her body. Just as she finished, she heard a noise that made her freeze. Eyes widened, ears straining, she stood beneath the spray and tried to assimilate that noise to something familiar.
Wasn’t happening.
Somehow she knew she wasn’t alone. She knew. And her heart tried to crawl up her throat.
I refuse to be a victim. Ronnie’s famous words.
So what would she do right now? What would Jack or Brodie do?
Hand trembling, she turned off the water and, hoping she sounded casual instead of petrified, she asked, “Ros?”
No answer.
Pretending that didn’t scare her either, she said, “Just a sec.” At the very least, she wanted a towel. It was right there outside the shower, on the closed toilet seat.
Sliding the shower door open just wide enough for her hand, she reached out—and thank God, she snagged it.
Wrapping it snug around herself, she searched the shower for a weapon of any kind. All she found was a long-handled back scrubber, but it’d have to do.
Praying she was wrong, that she’d be laughing at her wild imagination later, she flattened her hand against the glass and slowly, warily cleared away the mist.
Staring back at her, Newman grinned.
The scream strangled in her throat and she slipped on the tub floor. So fast she didn’t have time to fall, he opened the door and snatched her out without concern for scrapes or bruises—or her towel.
Instinctively she fought, but he had no problem at all locking an arm around her throat to drag her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.
With one hand she attempted to keep her towel in place, and with the other she frantically tried to loosen his hold so she could draw a breath.
When her nails caught him, he growled but finally gave her room to gasp. The back of her remained plastered to the front of him, her body awkwardly arched out from the position.
The security system should have signaled an alarm at their entry.
Guessing her thoughts, he said, “One of my men is a whiz at disabling alarms. There’s no one coming to help you, so just settle down.”
“The others,” she gasped.
“Don’t you worry about that. I came in through your bedroom window, but the others will go around front to round up the ladies, including that ballsy little bitch who threatened me.” Hot breath moved over her cheek when he lightly bit her ear. “And now you and me are going to have that fun I promised.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. The alarm was wired to go to the station if anyone tampered with it. Had that still happened? Would men be on their way?
Would they be in time?
While straining away, she tried to make sense of what he’d said. Rounding up the women? But Elliott and Grant were there too. Surely she’d have heard something if they’d been...shot.
Bile burned in her stomach at the thought. No, please, don’t let them be hurt.
“Here now.” Dragging her in front of the cheval mirror, he looked over her head at her reflection. Mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “Yeah, you’re going to be a treat. Not enough to repay all the trouble that bastard’s put me through, but I’ll just think of you as a salty little appetizer.” He trailed the flat side of a big knife up her thigh, lifting her towel as he went.
True panic set in, kick-starting survival instincts. Uncaring if she got cut in the process, she thrashed, jerked, kicked—which only made him squeeze her throat until stars danced before her eyes and her legs turned to noodles.
“That’s enough of that. Conscious or unconscious, doesn’t matter to me.” More to himself than her, he mused, “Can’t scrap if you can’t breathe, now can you?”
Belatedly she remembered the back brush hanging limply in her hand. Resisting the yawning darkness, summoning one last bit of strength, she gouged it back against him, driving the handle hard into his gut.
“Bitch.” He loosened enough for her to gasp and choke, her throat on fire as she sucked in oxygen.
Suddenly there was a ruckus, bodies crashing, a faint scream—and maniacal barking.
Other side of the house or not, they heard it loud and clear.
“What the hell?” He caught her arm before she could get too far from him. Frantically she beat at him with the brush, doing little damage but frustrating him more.
He yanked her forward, tightening around her neck again, lifting her to her tiptoes. This time, at least, her windpipe was in the crook of his elbow, so she wasn’t strangling.
Just very, very uncomfortable.
That lethal knife flashed in front of her face. “That’s not women scrapping out there. Who else is here?”
“Elliott,” she gasped, “and Grant.”
“Grant? The fucking cop?” Panic made his voice higher. “What’s he doing here?”
Before she could answer, the door slammed open so hard, the knob stuck in the wall. Mitch stood there, a giant wall of heaving muscle, his eyes an eerie shade of amber rage.
Newman jumped so hard, she nearly got away.
“Let her go.”
To Charlotte, Newman’s laugh sounded strained. “Look who showed up for the party.”
In contrast to the incandescent fury emanating off him, his voice sounded calm. “You have one second to let her go.”
“Go fuck yourse—”
Shooting around Mitch, Brute bolted into the room. Charlotte saw fangs, heard snarling. Brute’s impact against Newman got her freed real quick as Newman tried to fend off the attack.
Scrambling back, clutching her towel, she whispered through her damaged throat, “He has a knife!” If Brute got hurt, it would devastate her.
Mitch was already on him. Viciously, he twisted Newman’s wrist until the knife fell to the carpet. He kicked it away—and Charlotte quickly snatched it up.
Only then did he call off Brute. Or attempt to anyway.
But...yeah. Brute wasn’t trained for that. Jaws locked around Newman’s forearm, he jerked and growled with no intention of letting go.
Brodie stepped in. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered, sparing only a quick glance at Charlotte where she still—very stupidly—huddled against the wall.
Catching herself, she stepped forward. “I’ll get Brute.”
“I’ve got it,” Brodie said, and only then did Mitch release Newman to scoop up Brute.
Once held, Brute released Newman to cuddle against Mitch.
“That fucking dog is a menace!”
“Meaning it was your foot he got at my house?” Mitch asked, referring to the shoe Brute had kept from the intruders.
No wonder the poor baby had gone after Newman. Brute had probably already tangled with him once.
Brodie put Newman in a headlock far tighter than what he’d used on her, and Newman went limp. As his legs sprawled out loosely, they all spotted the bandages around his ankle.
Crooning to the dog, Mitch soothed him until Brute panted a little less, and his eyes were no longer so wide and wild. He even licked Mitch’s chin. “Good boy, you did good.”
When Brute squirmed, Mitch cautiously released him—and Brute went quickly to Charlotte, low to the ground, tail tucked and ears flattened.
Emotion overtook her and she carefully sat down, making sure her towel stayed in place, to hug Brute close. The dog snuffled against her, then sat at her side to watch the proceedings.
“Take Newman outside,” Mitch said softly. “I’ll be right there.”
Without replying, Brodie strong-armed Newman through the doorway.
Crouching down in front of her, Mitch asked, “You’re okay?”
She nodded, needing a second before she could get words out of her tight throat.
Lightly he touched a fingertip to her throat, his expression tortured. “Are you sure?”
“He didn’t touch me except to...to choke me with his arm a little. I think he meant to, but then you got here and—”
“Charlotte.”
His broken voice helped her to get it together. If she fell apart now, he’d feel worse—and he needed to finish it with Newman while he was here, with his brothers and father and Grant as backup. A deep steadying breath helped to ease the trembling. “I really am okay. I swear.” Swallowing again, she asked, “The others?”
As if he didn’t quite believe, his gaze searched hers. “Elliott is fine, but he got cut. It’s not bad,” he said when she looked up in alarm. “No one else got hurt.”
“Cut? How?”
“One of Newman’s buddies, a guy named Lee, came at Ronnie. She was trying to hold back the dogs and didn’t see him. Elliott tackled the guy.” Mitch shrugged. “If not for him...” His mouth pinched and he looked away.
Ronnie might have been killed. Glad that he hadn’t finished that gruesome thought, Charlotte nodded. “He said he had others with him.”
“Two guys, and they’re contained, I promise.” His jaw worked. “I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t see you or Newman.” He inhaled sharply. “Finally Mary told me you were in the shower and I just...knew. That he had you, that he’d try to hurt you.” His eyes went glassy and he swallowed hard. “I’ve never been so scared.”
Why he held himself back, she didn’t know, and whatever his reasons, she really didn’t care. Launching at him, almost knocking him over, Charlotte squeezed him tight. “I thought I heard something but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t know what to do and I was so afraid the others would get hurt, and he’d have gotten to you too and—”
“Shh...” He smoothed her hair, kissing her face, her bare shoulder. “I’m so sorry, babe. So damned sorry.”
With a smack to his shoulder, she tried to shove free, but Mitch held on, so she settled for snapping, “It was him, not you. I love you.”
Mitch held her back, blank with surprise. “You said you were falling—”
“I was, but you can only fall so far before you land. Now I know for sure.” A sob welled up, despite her best efforts to quell it. “You’re the one for me. The only one.”
Crushing her close again, he rocked her gently. She heard him saying, “It’s all right, Brute. She’s okay, buddy.”
Blindly, Charlotte reached out, felt Brute’s neck and stroked him.
After a few seconds, Mitch kissed her forehead. “I have to go, honey.”
No. She didn’t want him to. But...this was it for him. As Ronnie had said, he was no longer that little boy who’d so badly needed protection. Now he was a man who wanted to finish ugly business against the one who’d hurt him.
Drying her eyes on his shoulder, she nodded and sat back. Mitch let her. She drew a shuddering breath and said, “I need to get dressed before I go outside.”
“You,” he emphasized, “need to stay in here.”
Determined to be at his side, she got to her feet, tossed the towel and headed for the dresser. “I love you.” And to her mind, that said it all.
A few seconds ticked by before Mitch caught up to her. “Charlotte—”
“What?” She pulled out jeans.
His gaze went all over her. “I need you—”
Chin up, she said, “I need you too.”
He caught the jeans, making it impossible for her to step into them. “I love you, Charlotte.”
Finally. That admission gave her the boost of energy she needed.
Until he added, “That’s why I want to know you’re inside. Safe.”
She loved hearing it, but still... “I’m safe when I’m with you.” Just the thought of not seeing him, not being near him, left her shaking. She couldn’t be alone, not now, not after...” Her hands clenched the denim tight. “Please understand.”
So many emotions passed over his face, but in the end, he relented. “I do.” He put his forehead to hers. “Promise me you won’t interfere?”
Easy enough to do; she wanted no part of Newman or his henchmen. Aware of Mitch looking at her, all over her, maybe seeing bruises but, hopefully, mostly just seeing her, she pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. After she stepped into her flip-flops, she nodded. “I’m ready.”
MITCH HAD IT under control, just barely. Watching Charlotte drop the towel and dress... She’d almost stopped his heart, not only because she was beautiful, but because Newman had marked her. He spotted bruises, a scratch or two, and her cheeks were still blotchy from crying.
He wanted to pound Newman into dust, to demolish every single trace of him—but Grant was out there, so he doubted he’d be allowed that much leeway.
Touching a particularly vivid red mark on her throat, he barely managed to swallow. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
She nodded. “Me too. But I’m okay now.”
Me too? What the hell did that even mean?
“I’m sorry Newman touched me,” she whispered. “I’m sorry he was ever in your life. We’re both sorry for things out of our control.” Her small, cool palm curved around his cheek. “Now though, it’s over. So let’s go put a period on his miserable existence and get on with our lives together.”
Amazing. There couldn’t be a more incredible, wonderful, beautiful person in the entire world—and by some miraculous twist of fate, she was his.
Like his freedom, he would never, ever take her for granted. “Let’s go.”
Brute followed them when they left the room. Mitch wanted to reassure him more, and he wanted to pamper Charlotte, to check her head to toes and make one hundred percent certain that she was truly okay—but business first. He couldn’t leave his brothers out there dealing with Newman without him.
Mary stood just inside the kitchen doorway. Buster and Howler prowled around nervously, both wanting outside. Both denied.
On a kitchen chair, Elliott sat with blood running from his shoulder down his arm. Oddly enough, both Ros and Grant tended him.
Elliott looked at Charlotte and worked up a smile. “Not as fast as I used to be. And if Grant dares to chuckle about that, I’ll flatten him.”
Grant grunted and, seeing that Ros had it under control, stepped back to give Mitch a look. “You have about five minutes before I’ll be out there. Then it’s legal all the way. You understand me, son?”
“Yeah, I do.” It was more than he’d expected. “Appreciate it.”
Elliott stopped him. “Hit the bastard once for me, will you?”
“Yes, sir.” Brute remained on his heels. “Sorry, bud. You need to stay in here, but I’ll be back.”
Already on top of it, Mary said, “I’ll hand out treats,” and the word alone got Buster and Howler diverted. Brute she had to call twice, but he did finally give up his vigilance and follow her from the kitchen to the living room.
On the way out, Mitch remarked to Charlotte, “You have the most astounding family.”
With a brief, strained smile, she replied, “Yes, we do.” When she spotted the three men, all contained just past the patio, she froze.
Mitch stepped in front of her, blocking her view.
Newman’s two cohorts were hog-tied together, sitting back-to-back on the ground. They were in better shape than Bernie, but not by a lot. “Got worked over, I see.”
Brodie flexed his knuckles. “That’s what happens when someone breaks into my mother’s house. When he startles my wife and upsets my dog.”
Standing with Ronnie, who held her knife in her hand, Jack said, “Instead of busting up your face, I should have let my wife gut you. Be glad I didn’t.”
“He likes to have all the fun,” Ronnie said, sounding unconcerned. “But if you move, you’re mine.”
Newman cracked a laugh. He wasn’t tied, but he was disarmed. From his elbow to his wrist, bloody tooth marks marred his skin. “You need all these people to protect you, boy?”
Mitch only smiled. Yes, he knew Newman, knew his moods and methods—and right now Newman was scared. “You’re going to prison for a very long time.”
Newman snorted. “Yeah, how do you figure that?”
“Breaking and entering, assault, attempted murder.”
“Ha. Don’t be dramatic. No one tried—”
“Bernie got out of the basement.” When Newman’s eyes flared, Mitch grinned and walked closer. “You told him what you planned, didn’t you? The idea of him sitting busted up and broken in the basement, knowing what you’d do and what would happen to him next, gave you a few thrills, right? But now he’s free and ready to tell the rest of the world.”
Anger brought Newman forward a step. “You fucking sold the house,” he said in a low growl, his face red, his eyes filled with hatred. “Velma loved me, not you. It should have been mine.”
Mitch didn’t lean away from his rage—no, he leaned into it. “I didn’t want it, you idiot. I wanted nothing to do with you—”
“Or your mama?” He laughed. “Does your new family know you walked out on her?”
In every way possible, his mother had left him long before that day he’d decided he had enough. “They know.”
Slanting his gaze to Brodie and Jack, Newman said, “Little Mitch was a real smart-ass, always butting in where he shouldn’t.” Gloating, he looked back at Mitch, his gaze hard. “Velma couldn’t control him, but he found out that I hit a helluva lot harder than her. Ain’t that right, boy?”
Brodie started to surge forward but Mitch stopped him.
Aware of Charlotte behind him, feeling her simmering animosity over Newman’s taunts, Mitch kept his tone moderate. “Yeah, I did learn that. Know what, though?” His fist landed against Newman’s cheek so fast and hard that no one—including Newman—saw it coming.
As he’d told Charlotte, when he hit someone it was with the intent of taking their head off their shoulders. Newman’s feet literally came out from under him and he landed hard on his back. Dazed, he stared blindly into space while catching his breath.
“This Mitch,” he said, moving to stand over him, “hits back. And if I’m counting, I owe you quite a few more.”
Brodie was still enraged. “You cowardly fucker. You actually wanted to brag about brutalizing a boy?”
Laboriously, Newman rolled up on one elbow and spat blood to the side. He worked his jaw, winced. “He had it coming.”
Jack said, “I should let him kill you. Hell, I’d be happy to help him—not that he needs it.”
“No, I don’t,” Mitch told him. “But I appreciate the thought.” He grabbed Newman by the shirt and hauled him back to his unsteady feet.
Newman tried throwing a punch, but his aim was off, with no power behind it.
“This one is for Elliott.” Putting his fist in Newman’s gut, he stole his air.
As Newman wheezed, Mitch said, “The rest are for Charlotte.”
With crushing force, he hit Newman three more times. Since he held him by the shirt, Newman didn’t fall—which suited Mitch. Another to the gut, and Newman’s legs completely gave out. Blood covered his face, mostly from his smashed nose and a split in his lip.
It didn’t matter. Mitch drew back once more—
And a delicate hand rested on his back. “Mitch.”
That soft voice and gentle touch sank into him...and he let Newman drop. Oddly enough, he felt nothing but impatience—to hold Charlotte.
“You owe him more,” Jack said.
“A lot more,” Brodie agreed.
Ronnie asked, “Wanna use my knife?”
The humor took him by surprise, making him laugh. This family, his family, was completely loony, loyal to a fault, a little bloodthirsty and he loved them dearly.
Catching her by the waist, he pulled Charlotte around and to his side. “I think Charlotte’s gotten her fill.”
“I haven’t,” Brodie said. “Not after he boasted of hitting a kid.”
“Get behind me,” Jack argued, both of them stepping forward at almost the same time.
Grant cleared his throat.
Frustrated, Brodie nudged Newman with his foot. “Maybe now you understand that Mitch isn’t a boy anymore, and he’s no longer alone. Mess with him and you’re messing with the whole family.”
“And,” Jack added, “we will destroy you.”
Grant threw up his hands. “Mind if I arrest him now?”
Hearing that, Newman groaned, barely coherent.
Sirens drew near, and that got all the dogs inside howling.
With Brodie, Jack, Ronnie and Grant standing over the three men, Mitch took Charlotte’s hand and moved her back to the patio.
Near her ear, he asked, “You’re okay?”
“Yes. Thank you for hitting him for me.”
“That was my pleasure.” His knuckles hurt, but his heart felt incredibly happy.
Newman would finally be out of his life. Charlotte would be in it, along with the family he’d never thought to have. A man couldn’t ask for more than that—especially since it was everything he’d never dared to hope for.
TO GIVE HERSELF something to do, Ros made cookies. Everyone had returned to her house after going to the hospital with Elliott. Luckily, a couple layers of stitches had mended the deep cut from the top of his shoulder to about seven inches down his back. There’d been no serious muscle damage but he would need time to heal.
Again, he could have been killed.
The boys hadn’t known about the wreck yet, but the doctor mentioned it while updating them, saying it was imperative that Elliott take it easy for a while and give his body a chance to recover.
Stunned, the three of them—Brodie, Jack and Mitch—had soaked in the fact that they might have lost Elliott, and he hadn’t even told them.
Because, overall, he didn’t think they’d care.
That was his fault and they all knew it. But somehow, in the moment, it hadn’t seemed to matter.
Pressing a hand to her heart, Ros waffled between fury and remorse. Fury at Elliott for creating the situation, and remorse that she couldn’t somehow fix it.
“Hey, baby. You okay?”
Oh, that voice. He knew it did crazy things to her, damn him, and that’s why he used it. Without looking at him, Ros snapped, “Why aren’t you on the couch recuperating as the doctor ordered?
“Mitch is ready to go. He wants to drive me, even though I told him I’m perfectly capable—”
A volatile mix of emotions spun her around to face him. “You,” she said in her most take-charge voice, “aren’t going anywhere.”
Blank surprise had him blinking. “I’m not?”
Though he might be nearing sixty, Elliott still looked devastatingly handsome and rugged with beard shadow darkening his jaw. “You heard the doctor. You’ll need someone to change out the bandages each day, to apply more antibiotic ointment, to help you with your shoes and—”
Skeptically, he asked, “You?”
She swatted his shoulder, then gasped, appalled at herself. Snatching back her hand, she groaned, “Oh my God. Did I hurt you?”
His smile went crooked, his gaze knowing. “No, you didn’t.” Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You’re jumpy from lack of sleep. Why don’t you go get some rest? I can help the boys at the shop today.”
Of all the... It seemed wise to turn her back on him before replying. “I’m in better shape than you are.” Grabbing up an oven mitt, she took out the cookies. “You’ll stay here, Elliott, and that’s that. I’m close enough to work that I can fill in for Charlotte for a day or two, while also checking on you.”
The resounding silence had her looking back, in case he’d left the kitchen.
Head down, he muttered something low.
“What?”
When he looked at her, it was with regret. “You’ve taken care of me long enough, Ros. I refuse to do that to you, again.”
The cookie tray hit the trivet with a clatter. She threw down the oven mitt like a gauntlet. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“What?” His brows shot up. “No. See I was—”
“Yes, you are. That’s what this is about, right? Admit it.”
Charlotte and Mitch entered the kitchen, hugged up to one another. It did her heart good to see them so close. Behind them, Jack and Ronnie stepped in, then Brodie and Mary.
They all stared at Elliott.
Clearly she’d been louder than she thought.
Mitch said, “I thought you were coming home with me.”
“I am,” Elliott said.
“No,” she countered, digging in. “He’s not.”
Concerned, but not really rebutting her, Brodie asked, “You’re kicking him out?”
“You know,” Jack said, more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him, “he got in the way of that knife to protect Ronnie. For once, I thought it’d be okay if we lent him a hand for a little while.”
“I’m not kicking him out.” Did they all consider her so heartless? “He’s staying here, and that’s final.”
“Here?” Mitch glanced around her kitchen. “You mean...with you?”
Oh, how she wished he hadn’t spelled it out like that. “Yes, with me.” So there’d be no arguments, Ros used her best mother’s voice and crossed her arms. “You have enough to do now that Newman is out of the picture.”
With a slow smile, Mitch said, “Okay.”
For the longest time, everyone else just stared at her, until Elliott cracked a grin. “You heard your mother, boys. I’m staying here.”
Well, damn. Now Elliott looked like she’d propositioned him! Pointing at him, she emphasized, “Temporarily.” His grin widened. “Until you’re healed.” He winked.
Oh, for the love of... “Who wants a cookie?”
AFTER FINISHING A big job for a new house construction, putting in all the landscaping and laying sod, he’d taken the time to stop by a little jewelry store. Now, with too much sun on his face and shoulders, sweat gluing his shirt to his back, and a smile of anticipation, Mitch headed home.
Such an awesome thought, home. In the two months since Newman was arrested, everything had changed.
The necessary updates were done to his house to allow for a business, he’d made terrific contacts, and he had plenty of work lined up. Using Jack and Brodie as references, finding customers hadn’t been difficult at all.
The best part? Charlotte had stayed over the night Newman attacked her—her decision, not that he had a single complaint—and she’d rarely gone home since, other to get a few things here and there.
Overall, she’d moved in with him.
The funny part? Elliott had never moved out of Ros’s house. He was still there and they seemed to get along.
It surprised everyone that he hadn’t taken off yet. Mitch hoped he never did. He liked having them all nearby. Knowing them, he felt a part of something bigger: family.
In his pocket, he had a modest ring. He’d shower, shave, and then the big plan was to propose. He didn’t really have any doubts about Charlotte saying yes, but he’d still rest easier once he had her tied to him.
When he pulled down his long drive, he found it lined with cars—Jack’s, Brodie’s, Elliott’s, but also an official police car, which meant Grant was visiting again.
Though things had fizzled out with Ros, Grant had remained friends with the family...which included Mitch. Whenever possible, he shared updates on Newman, Lee and Ritchie. It was a courteous, respectful thing to do, Grant said.
Friends with a cop. What a kicker. When he’d started this odyssey, not once had he seen that coming.
But then, he hadn’t seen Charlotte in the equation either, and she was now the most important part.
How the hell could he propose with everyone here?
They were all outside, dogs playing, Jack and Brodie manning the grill, Mary and Ronnie sitting on the porch steps with Peanut the cat, Ros setting the picnic table where Elliott and Grant seemed in deep conversation.
He sat there, his car idling, his thoughts roiling even as he appreciated the sight they made. Family. Home.
The only thing missing was Charlotte.
He no sooner thought it than he saw her.
Coming quickly down the steps between Mary and Ronnie, Charlotte waved. She detoured to the picnic table to set down a bowl and then ran toward him.
Her wild hair danced out behind her and her smile made his world complete.
He turned off the car and got out, catching her when she jumped against him laughing.
Hugging her off her feet, kissing her warmly, Mitch cherished the moment. He looked forward to many more days just like this. “Hell of a welcome,” he murmured. “I like it.”
“I’m so glad you’re home.”
With her around, anywhere could be home—including the tent. Twice they’d camped out “just for fun,” though overall he hadn’t used it much, not since she’d moved in with him.
How could a room feel small and restrictive with Charlotte there, bursting with energy and lighting it up with her smile?
“I have some fun news.”
“Yeah?” He looked toward the group in his yard. They were trying not to stare, but subtlety wasn’t a Crews strong suit. “What’s up?”
“Newman and his goons are toast. Finally, they’ll get what they deserve.”
His gaze automatically sought Grant’s, and he got his nod. He dropped back to lean on his truck. “No kidding?”
“Grant wanted to tell you, but I insisted. He can give you all the legal details, but the gist of it is that the seriousness of Ritchie’s situation really hit home. Apparently, he got offered a plea deal and the words just started pouring out. Did you know they were staying at Mrs. Goodrich’s house?”
Since he’d never heard of her, Mitch shook his head.
“She retired from working the elementary school cafeteria. A very sweet lady, but she’d gone out of town and they just set up house, living there like it was their own. Ritchie said if she’d have come back early, Newman would have killed her.”
“She didn’t?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, she wasn’t hurt, and when she’d reported the damage, no one put it together until Ritchie shared.”
“Anything else?”
“According to Grant, career criminals always get busted for more than one thing, and that seems true for Newman. As of right now, they’re tied to a murder, a rape and a whole host of drug charges.” She bit her lip. “Did you know Newman had drugs hidden in the walls of your mother’s house?”
“No, but it doesn’t surprise me.” One of the reasons he’d taken off from there so long ago was because Newman used the house for his drug deals.
“I wish I could have seen his face when he found the house leveled, the drugs lost.”
Mitch whistled. “Guess that explains why he came after me.”
“Ritchie said he wanted the money from the sale of the house—and revenge against you because, according to him, Newman considered it your fault.”
So many times in his life Newman had blamed him, just to have an excuse for cruelty. Never again. “I hope he rots in prison.” From the experience he’d had, rotting seemed a real possibility.
“Even with his deal, Ritchie is looking at twenty years, so I suspect Newman will be gone for much longer.”
Charlotte hugged him, her head on his shoulder. “Understand that I feel terrible for the people they hurt, but I can’t help being thrilled to know it’s truly over.”
“So that you and I, as a couple, can now begin?”
She went still. Casually, as if she hadn’t started jiggling, she asked, “What exactly does that mean?”
“I was going to ask you tonight, but this seems like as good a time as any.” He pulled out the ring. “Will you—”
Snatching the box from his hand, Charlotte squealed loud enough to bring all three dogs running, ready for some play. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes.”
Before Charlotte, he’d never laughed this much. “Love your enthusiasm.”
Holding the little jeweler’s box in the air, she turned to the group and shouted, “We’re getting married!”
Cheers erupted, making Mitch laugh more. “Don’t you want to see the ring?”
“It could be made of clover and I’d still be thrilled.”
“Well, I hope you like it.” He took the box from her, opened it, and took out the ring.
“Oh, Mitch.” Eyes going liquid, she studied the small round diamond surrounded by tinier diamonds. “It’s perfect.”
Heat crawled up his neck. The damn thing wasn’t near grand enough for her. “Now that the business is going I can save more money. Later, if you wanted, we could upgrade—”
She clutched the box to her heart. “We will not. I love this one.”
Like a sucker punch to the heart, she constantly devastated him—in all the very best ways. Putting a kiss to the end of her nose, he said, “God, I love you.”
Suddenly they were surrounded, not just with dogs, but family too. Urged forward by congratulations, Mitch found himself seated at the picnic table, Charlotte at his side, while food and colas got passed around in celebration.
After loudly clearing his throat, Elliott said, “Well, Ros. Here’s something you can do with the money. It’d make a grand wedding, don’t you think?”
She choked, and both Elliott and Grant tried to pat her back. Behind her back, Elliott mean-mugged Grant until, hands in the air, he backed off, all the while grinning.
Now stroking her back, Elliott said, “I gave her a check for a hundred and twenty thousand bucks.” He frowned. “She hasn’t done anything with it yet.”
Everyone gaped.
Brodie asked, “What the hell. Did you rob a bank?”
“Exactly what your mother asked me.” That seemed to amuse him. “Actually, to make a long story much shorter, I became friends with this old gal. I’d help her around the house, she’d cook me meals. A nice trade-off. She was all alone in the world, no family to care for her, so we got close. When she died, she left her house to me. It didn’t bring in that much, but in her garage she had a ’68 Shelby GT500—and it sold at auction for a hundred and twenty grand.”
Mitch tilted back to stare at him. “You scored that much money, and you’re still driving an old beat-up truck?”
“You’ve always driven Mustangs,” Jack said, almost like an accusation.
Brodie waved that off. “You’re planning to buy one with whatever cash you got for the house, right?” Then he reconsidered. “Though from what you’ve said, you’ve had more than enough time to—”
“Yeah...” Elliott gave Ros a small one-armed hug. “Always loved those cars. And you’re right, Brodie, I did mean to get another. Except...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem all that important anymore.”
Ros leaned away in disbelief. “Oh my God. Did you finally grow up?”
“Who knows?” He took her hand. “What I do know is that I’d rather help my boys work on their cars than get one of my own. And I’d rather not end up spending my last years alone.”
With a roll of her eyes, Ros said, “You’re in your prime.”
“Thank you for noticing.” He sent a smug look at Grant, who only snorted. “But I know I’ve burned bridges, plenty of them. I’m just hoping it’s not too late for me.”
Everyone fell silent—and it strained Mitch. Should he speak up? God knew, he wanted to.
Ros stole the moment, saying, “I still don’t want your money.”
“Not even for a big wedding?”
Appalled by the idea of anything that extravagant, Mitch said, “No,” at the same time Charlotte said, “I only just got a ring!”
Elliott smiled at her. “Did you want a big wedding, honey?”
“We haven’t even set a date.” She lifted her hand to admire the glint of small diamonds in the sunlight. “But when we do, I’d prefer something simple.”
Thank God, Mitch thought, though he didn’t say it out loud. He’d be in for whatever made Charlotte happiest.
Jack sat forward, his arms folded on the picnic table, his probing gaze zeroed in on Elliott. “When you leave, maybe you’ll need the money for yourself.”
As if it didn’t matter, Elliott said offhand, “Who says I’m leaving?”
Almost in unison, Jack, Brodie and Ros said, “I do.” They looked at each other and laughed.
Mitch didn’t, not with the expression on Elliott’s face. “You’re saying you plan to stay here, in Red Oak?”
Picking up a chip, Elliott nodded. “I’d like to, yeah.” His gaze flicked around at the table. “If none of you mind—and Grant, your opinion doesn’t count.”
Grant shut his mouth, quietly laughing.
The silence wore on and again, it bothered Mitch. He wasn’t an outsider anymore. He could speak his mind, same as the others. And he felt strongly about this.
When he felt Charlotte leaning into his side, he knew she was smiling, and that was all the push he needed. “I’d like it if you stuck around.”
Everyone looked at Mitch.
“Yeah?” Elliott’s face brightened. “Thanks, son.”
“I owe you,” Ronnie added softly. “So if it helps, you get my vote.”
Elliott’s expression softened. “You don’t owe me, honey, but thank you.”
Brodie rubbed his mouth. “How long do you plan to stay?”
“I wanted to settle here actually.” His gaze shifted to Ros and away. “I’ve been looking for a job. Figured as long as I have a work truck, I may as well use it.”
Charlotte coasted her hand up and down Mitch’s arm. “His business is growing faster than he can keep up.”
Very true. “If you don’t mind that type of labor—”
“Love it.” Elliott held his gaze—then he exhaled. “But I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Elliott’s not afraid of hard work.”
When everyone looked at her, Ros shrugged. “Well, it’s true. I’ve never seen him shun work. It’s just a steady job that scares him off. The permanence and responsibility, you know. Gives him hives or something.”
“Not anymore.” Elliott winced after saying that so quickly, sent an aggrieved frown at Grant, and tried a smile for Ros. “I’m staying. For good.” He flinched again. “That is, if you don’t mind?”
“Not my business,” she said loftily, standing to carry her empty plate into the kitchen.
Elliott stared after her.
Grant groaned—and pushed to his feet. “That’s my cue to go.” With a pat on Elliott’s shoulder, he said, “She’s worth whatever it takes for you to win her over. Again.”
His gaze never leaving the kitchen window, Elliott nodded. “I know.”
“If you’re sure you do, then...good luck.”
Soon as he left, Elliott stood too. “Will you boys help me out?”
Caution won out. Mitch wanted to support Elliott, but Ros could make her own decisions without anyone trying to sway her. Since no one else asked it, he did. “Help how?”
“Take some money. Divvy it up however you like.” He looked first at Brodie. “I know Mary has wealthy contacts, but there’s probably something you’d like to do to your house, right?”
“Well...” Brodie shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“And Jack, I know you’re remodeling your house top to bottom.”
“True.” Jack gave it some thought. “We’ve also been discussing updates to the office.”
“There you go!” Excited now, Elliott smiled at Mitch. “I love this place, son. You’ve done amazing things with it.”
“With Jack’s and Brodie’s help.”
He nodded. “How about an addition off the back? Add a bathroom to the bedroom? That’d be nice, right?”
Glancing at Charlotte, Mitch asked, “What do you think?”
“I think your father desperately wants to give you a gift, and you should graciously accept it.”
“Damn.” Elliott puffed up. “Always did love you, Charlotte.”
“Thank you, Elliott.”
Mitch laughed. “Yeah, sure. Count me in.”
“Perfect! You’re all, each and every one of you, perfect and whether I have the right or not, I couldn’t be more proud.” He headed for the kitchen. “Now for the real battle.”
They all watched him go.
Shaking his head, Jack said, “Do you think he means it?”
“Means it, yes. Will he actually follow through? Who knows?”
Jack rubbed his face. “The last two months, he has been different.”
“It’s a little unnerving,” Brodie said. “It’s like he’s Dad, but an improved version.”
“Almost losing his life might have really changed him.” Mary sighed. “I imagine that could shift the priorities of anyone.”
“Maybe it’s you, Mitch, that brought about the change.” Ronnie tilted her head, studying him. “Against some big odds, you came home, so now he sees it’s possible.”
I came home. Yes, in so many ways, that’s what it felt like.
Smiling, Mitch said, “Honestly, guys? I think it’s just that Ros is so incredibly awesome. Who could resist her?”
“He resisted her before just fine,” Jack pointed out.
“Yeah, but like fine wine, she’s only gotten better.” Charlotte snickered. “She’s extra-potent now.” That sentiment got everyone else snickering too.
Pretty soon they were all laughing—together, as a family.
In Charlotte’s ear, Mitch whispered, “Can it be a short engagement?”
“Silly man,” she said. “I fell in love with you that first night. If you’d asked, I probably would have married you then.”
From inside the house, he heard Ros’s raised voice, then a protest, and finally a giggling, girlish laugh—followed by silence.
Brodie and Jack went wide-eyed, knowing what that silence likely meant and a little shell-shocked by it. The wives thought it was hilarious, and went about kissing on their husbands, just to make sure they understood what was happening inside. With their mother—but also their father.
Charlotte hugged Mitch. “It’s fun, right? Ros deserves to be happy, and for whatever reason, Elliott’s always been the one for her.”
Just as Charlotte was the one for him.
With his heart feeling crazy-full, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her, ignoring the catcalls from his brothers and the “aawwws” from Ronnie and Mary.
Even without Elliott’s gift, he had a nice enough house—made better with Charlotte in it.
He had a growing business, and soon his father would work with him.
Brute was happier than he’d ever been, currently napping in the shade of a big tree with Buster and Howler in a tangle of legs, necks and tails.
He had a home. He had family.
And he had Charlotte.
Life had taught him not to expect much, but meeting Charlotte had changed all that—and now he had more than he’d ever thought possible.
With her in his life, he had it all.
Read on for a sneak peek of No Holding Back, book one in New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster’s exciting new contemporary romance series, The McKenzies of Ridge Trail.
Available February 2021 from HQN Books!