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CHAPTER ONE
Michael
“Come on, Duke, you know I hate it when you insist on pumping my gas.”
Shaking the gas nozzle, he pulls it out of the truck. “Boy, I may be old, but I can do my own damn job.” He huffs, placing the nozzle back into the pump.
A wide smile claims his face as he points a shaky finger at the flowers in the truck.
“I argued with my wife that those wouldn’t sell, especially with those college kids being so close to town . . . no one’s romantic anymore. Then you go and do that shit.” His grin and bright eyes take away all bite from his words.
I follow his gaze to the seat of my truck, where a large bouquet of wildflowers sits next to a smaller, daintier version of the bouquet.
“What?” I grin. “I can’t get my perfect niece something without getting her mother the same.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid, you’re real smooth.” He waves me off. “My Judy will be talking about that all week.”
“I have to stay the favorite uncle somehow,” I tease.
The old man chuckles. “You tell that brother of yours and Charlotte that me and mine send our best. He’s got himself a good woman there.”
A quiet laugh slips past my lips at his choice of words. “He knows, and I will pass on your kind words,” I promise, climbing into the cab of my truck. “You can call her Charlie, you know.”
“Not without him glaring at me, I can’t.” Duke taps the top of my truck, thinking I’m about to pull off, but the sound and his words barely register. Instead, my eyes are glued to the tall, leggy brunette running toward us.
My heart jumps in my chest, and my gaze shoots behind her, looking for whoever she’s running from.
My mind needs a minute to catch up as I figure out what’s happening. My eyes drink her in, from the way her blue sports top clings, flowing with the curves of her body, down to the sliver of skin that appears with every few strides from where her top doesn’t quite reach the top of her black leggings, the sweat on her face, the way her hair sticks to the side of her neck, the thick ponytail swinging with her strides.
Jogging. She’s fucking jogging!
My heart is pounding by the time I realize it.
Fuck, can I have a heart attack at twenty-seven?
The idea of someone harming her, of her running in fear, makes my body tremble with rage.
Even though she’s not in immediate danger, I can’t look away. Who the fuck is she?
A bad girl, that’s who.
Running with oncoming traffic at her back, what the fuck is she thinking? Someone could grab her.
A sense of déjà vu tickles at my mind.
And the irony of me teasing my brother on this very street just two years ago isn’t lost on me. Daniel had a similar reaction when his now wife, Charlie, walked along this street in a similar fashion . . . suddenly, his response of spanking her doesn’t seem like an overreaction.
My hands squeeze the steering wheel. The itch to punish her ass spreads through me limb from limb.
A breath stutters out of me.
“We have another Cromwell?” he teases.
I damn near fly out of my seat at the sound of Duke’s voice.
So engrossed in my girl, I forgot where the fuck I was.
“Duke.” I nod goodbye, ignoring his question. Starting the truck, I leave him standing beside the pump without another word.
