Love Under Two Cowboys (28 page)

Kelsey had already stepped back from her husband. Chuckling, she came over to Carrie and rubbed her arm. “I know how it feels to be, well, under a kind of
mental
siege—waiting for something bad to happen. I
have
been there. But hang in there, Carrie. Despite all our teasing, and, well, appearances to the contrary, the women of Lusty
do
have faith in their men.”

“You should have faith in your men, too,” Matt said. “Chase and Brian are determined to keep you safe, honey. We all are.”

Carrie nodded, and felt her mouth slide into a smile of contentment as it inevitably did whenever she thought of her men. “I know those two cowboys will do all they can to protect me.” They’d already done so much, including mobilizing the entire town. “And I know and appreciate that y’all have my back.”

She just hoped that while everyone was focused on watching out for her, they’d be careful for themselves, too.

Because with each new dawn the feeling grew within her that something very bad was waiting just around the corner.

Chloe stood, her lips pursed, her hand clutching the door knob with white-knuckled intensity. She was fully prepared to slam the door on the two men who stood there, arms crossed, determined looks on their smug, know-it-all faces.

Two men who
apparently
didn’t know how to take “no” for an answer.

She’d been all for the way the town of Lusty, Texas, had banded together for the sole purpose of protecting her baby sister. She’d inwardly cheered as she’d sat in on the planning sessions, when Matt Benedict, Adam Kendall, his brother-in-law Peter Alvarez-Kendall—a DEA agent—and Joe Grant, a Special Agent with the FBI and Michelle’s husband, had detailed the steps needed to keep Carrie safe. These people cared about her sister and for that, Chloe would be forever grateful.

Chloe herself had extended her stay in Lusty. She’d called Madeleine and pleaded a family emergency, although she’d already pretty much decided that Lusty was soon going to become her new hometown, too.

She thought that maybe Madeleine not only suspected as much, but that she’d be fine with it. Her boss and friend had been very sensitive to Chloe’s personal situation, sympathetic to the dilemma she’d found herself in, and to her emotions. Chloe hated to leave the day spa in Divine, because Madeleine had been the best boss she’d ever had.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending—circumstances changed, and sometimes a body just had to go with the flow.

Chloe generally considered herself to be a fairly bright woman. She didn’t possess a genius IQ, but she
was
smart. As she’d taken in the way everyone planned to work together to make sure Carrie was never alone, she’d relished the fact that at the end of the day, she, Chloe, was staying in
Carrie’s
apartment. She also had kept her mouth closed about that fact, mentally cheering when no one seemed to recall that one tiny little detail.

They all seemed to have forgotten that the small, one-bedroom unit in the building was her sister’s official,
legal
address. It was the address that she’d put on the change-of-address form that she had belatedly sent in to the DMV, for her driver’s license.

Chloe was convinced that that bastard, George Lockwood, likely would hack into that database again, and would come away with
this
address.

Chloe wasn’t frightened in the least. Lockwood
would
come. She had no doubt of that. The sick bastard had become obsessed with her sister.

She understood the men hadn’t gone into great detail but knew they were on alert, watching for him, certain they would nab him as soon as he set foot in Lusty.

Not that she doubted the vigilance of the citizenry, but she had a sense that Lockwood, being very evil and very clever, would somehow elude capture. She believed he’d make it to this very apartment.

And she, Chloe, would be waiting for him.

Chloe owned a small Beretta handgun that she’d carried, legally, for a number of years. Specifically it was a 3032 Tomcat, just under five inches long, weighing less than sixteen ounces, and equipped with a seven-shot magazine loaded with .32 caliber, hollow point bullets.

She’d taken lessons when she’d first purchased the weapon, and she’d made time, faithfully, to practice with it on a regular basis. She didn’t believe a person ought to have a weapon unless they learned how to handle it safely and proficiently. She sincerely hoped George Lockwood evaded the law, and broke into this apartment. She had a trip wire set up at the bedroom door that would alert her if he came in the middle of the night, and she tucked herself and that gun into bed together each evening.

She even left a small light burning in the bedroom at night that would allow her to be able to see whoever opened that bedroom door, uninvited.

Chloe had always awakened instantly, and fully alert.

If all her careful preparations and planning paid off, she’d finally realize her ten-year-long dream.

Chloe Rhodes intended to shoot the cock right off that perverted son of a bitch.

It was the perfect plan, she decided, because the people of Lusty were
so
focused on keeping Carrie safe and on catching the bastard the instant he set foot in town, they’d forgotten where he’d be headed once he got here.

Or so she had thought.

Chloe had met the two firefighters currently standing at the door during one of the planning sessions at the restaurant. Carrie had introduced her to them. Chloe had engaged them in conversation, treating them friendly-like, because she could see the men were friends of her sister’s. It seemed, in fact, just about
everyone
in town was a friend of her sister’s. That was a real nice change as far as Chloe was concerned.

The hermit-like life Carrie had lived before coming to Lusty appeared to be a thing of the past.

Chloe brought herself back to the present. She had a feeling she’d need to keep all her wits about her while she dealt with these two men.

Keeping the frown on her face and her arms folded in front of her chest, Chloe blocked the entrance to her temporary apartment, drew herself up to her full five-foot-three-inch height, and said, “I can assure you, gentlemen, there is no need whatsoever for
anyone
to babysit me. I’m perfectly fine. It’s Carrie y’all should be concerned with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll bid you good-night.”

Andrew and Grant Jessop traded looks. Chloe saw the hint of amusement on both of their faces, and that just pissed her off.

She was
not
going to budge from her spot blocking the door, no matter what “logical” argument they gave her, and that was that.

Andrew Jessop sighed, and solved what he must have decided was a problem, by reaching out, picking Chloe up as if she weighed nothing at all, and carrying her into her apartment.

Chloe gasped, too shocked at first to do anything at all. She looked over Andrew’s shoulder, wondering where Grant had disappeared to.

Andrew didn’t seem inclined to put her down anytime soon, either. He held her with his two beefy hands clamped onto her arms so that she couldn’t even unfold them. Her fear of heights kicked in so that she felt leery of fighting him physically, anyway, just in case he dropped her.

It didn’t matter if a couple of feet off the ground wasn’t really very much height at all. Logic played no role whatsoever in this particular phobia of hers.

Finally she found her voice and said, “Put me down, please.”

“Just as soon as Grant hauls in our stuff and locks the door. That makes this a done deal.”

“You’re bossy.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re devious.”

“
Me
? Devious? How can you say such a thing when you barely know me? Devious? I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Grant entered the apartment, two duffel bags in hand. He set them down in the small foyer and then closed and locked the door.

Andrew set her down gently. Then he copied her pose, arms folded in front of his chest. “You don’t know what I mean when I say you’re devious? How come you didn’t bring up the very real concern that, in all likelihood, when that SOB comes to town, the first place he’s going to come to is right here, to this very apartment?”

Chloe didn’t know if she had any acting skills or not. She didn’t want to risk saying anything, in case she gave herself away. So she kept her mouth shut and continued to frown at the men.

It slowly occurred to her that her silence could be taken as an admission of guilt.

Grant came over to stand beside his brother. Arms akimbo, he said, “So what did you plan to do? Shoot him?”

“She probably planned to shoot his dick off,” Andrew said to Grant.

Well, hell. How could she feign ignorance in the face of their certain-sounding assertions? She unfolded her arms and sighed. “How did y’all know that?”

“Sombitch had messed with our sister, that’s what we’d do.” Andrew nodded once, and Chloe had no doubt at all he meant what he said.

“That’s not precisely true, bro.” Grant’s expression didn’t change. He looked for all the world as if he was discussing something as mundane as the weather. “You know if anyone did to Rebecca what Lockwood had done to Carrie, we wouldn’t shoot his dick off. We’d slice it off with a dull yet jagged, rusty knife and then stuff his useless cock down his throat—or up his ass, depending.”

“I stand corrected,” Andrew said.

That sounded as if they were on her side. “So you understand how I feel. Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“Hell, no. You see, Chloe, the trouble is,” Andrew said, “there’s likely more danger that he’d get the gun out of your hands and shoot
you
. We for sure are
not
going to be a party to that.”

“I took lessons, I’ll have you know. I’m not stupid. I know how to handle my Beretta.”

“Oh, good.” Grant looked a little disgusted. “How many men have you shot? You don’t have to tell me how many you’ve killed, tiger, just how many you’ve
shot
.”

Chloe sighed. “No one likes a smart-ass.”

“Hey, he’s my brother, and I like him,” Andrew said. “So do you, Chloe, love, you’re just pissed with us both at the moment on account of we’re not going to let you shoot off that bastard’s dick.”

“I am
not
your love.”

“Yet.”

“Thank God.”

The men had spoken at the same time, and Chloe had the first inkling that she really was a perverse woman. How could she feel affronted by
both
sentiments?

Brazen it out
. She pointed at Grant, but spoke to Andrew. “Listen to him.”

Andrew smiled. “Hell, I stopped listening to him years ago.” Then his smile faded. “Seriously, Chloe, we understand and even applaud your desire to castrate the man who attacked your sister. But he’s spent ten years in prison and he’s already beaten the hell out of two fully grown men,
and
brutally raped a woman. You are
not
going to wreak vengeance—and you are not going to be left alone and vulnerable right here where he’s likely going to strike. So for the next while at least—until we either get you moved to the ranch with Carrie and those cowboys, or get you another place to stay—you’ve got two apartment mates.”

Chloe let go the part about getting her another place to stay. They would have to carry her out of here bodily. She frowned.
Okay, so they could, and probably would do just that
.

That was entirely beside the point. She wouldn’t worry about the future beyond this night. She refolded her arms against her chest. “And where the hell do you think you’re going to sleep? This is a one-bedroom apartment—in case you weren’t aware.”

Andrew gave her a huge grin that under other circumstances she knew she’d find sexy and seductive as hell. “You could share. I happen to know that’s a queen-size bed in that bedroom, and you’re just a little bitty thing.”

Is he blind?
She looked in the mirror every day, and hopped on the scales at least once a week. No one had
ever
accused her of being small, or beautiful, or desirable.

Except for Beck O’Malley, and you had to go and fuck that up and break his heart.

There were times when Chloe would cheerfully choke her inner imp to death if only she were able to get her hands on it. The reminder of what she’d done, though she knew it had been the right thing to do, just felt like a one-hundred-pound wet blanket falling from the sky and landing with a plop across her shoulders.

She
had
done the right thing, but the right thing had a heavy price attached to it. Chloe had broken Beck’s heart, but she didn’t love him, not the way a woman should love her husband. The pain and the damage that she’d have eventually inflicted on that sweet man would have been a hundred times worse if she’d said yes to his proposal.