Chapter One
Austin
My heart beats faster when the bell above the door of my little flower shop chimes. It’s seven o’clock on a Tuesday night, and it means he’s here.
Sheriff Taylor.
The heartthrob who saved my life years ago. I wonder if he remembers me or that day. He’s the whole reason I moved to Courage County and started my little flower shop. I wanted to be close to him, knowing he’s nearby makes my heart happy.
He pulls off his sunglasses and clips them to his black Henley shirt that perfectly hugs his body, revealing a lean torso.
He approaches the counter with his trademark smile. It’s a boyish grin that never fails to give me butterflies in my stomach. Not that he’s noticed. There’s an eight-year age difference between the two of us. He doesn’t want a girl like me with generous curves, frizzy red hair, and an unplanned pregnancy.
“I’m going to have to start calling this one the Luke Taylor special,” my voice comes out professional. Not like I’m seething with jealousy as I finish wrapping the brightly colored daisies. I wonder which woman they’re going to tonight. He never tells me, and I don’t ask.
“Well, she seems to really like ‘em,” he says.
I start to tell him that she’s a lucky woman then I bite my tongue. I don’t want him to know about the crush I’ve carried since that day.
“I’m glad,” I manage to say. My phone is playing a soft country song about a girl hopelessly in love with a cowboy who doesn’t notice her. The irony isn’t lost on me.
I twine the ribbon around the cellophane. I wonder for a moment if I’ll ever get flowers from a man then dismiss the thought. There’s only one guy who I want them from, and he’s completely oblivious.
I pass him the flowers, and our fingers brush. The simple motion of his calloused fingers against mine makes my breath catch in my throat. How does he do that with a simple touch?
Our eyes lock. For a moment, something passes between us. Probably nothing more than wishful thinking on my part.
Then he drops his gaze and reaches for his wallet. He swipes his credit card and tips his Stetson. “Until next time, Austin.”
I give him a little wave. Then I busy myself, so I can pretend I’m not secretly studying his fine ass and the way he fills out those faded blue jeans as he leaves.
When he finally exits the shop, I let out a breath and press my hands to my hot cheeks. I’ve always hated being an easy blusher. I hate it even more when I’m around Sheriff Taylor.
Shaking my head at my hopeless crush, I walk to the refrigerated case and stick my head in. There, that’s better. Now I can think clearly again.
I select a few stems for a birthday bouquet just as the door chimes again. Without looking, I call over my shoulder, “I’ll be right with you.”
“Damn straight you will,” the man who haunts my nightmares says.
Bile rises in the back of my throat at the same time a bolt of fear goes through me. I turn and face this monster.
“Get out of here, Frank.” My voice shakes, and I hate it. I hate that the man who tormented me for so long thinks he can just waltz into my shop whenever he pleases.
He takes another step toward me. “Where’s the money, little bitch?”
“I told mom. I’m not giving either of you a dime.” My mom and stepdad love to party until the money runs out. Then they try to hit me up for luxuries like rent and food. But that’s not happening anymore. Not after what he did to me.
Despite my determination to be strong, I take a step back toward the case, needing to feel something solid behind me.
He doesn’t miss it and turns to the cash register. He hits a series of buttons, trying to force it open.
While he’s distracted, I inch toward my purse on the counter. If I can just get to it, I can grab my phone. I don’t know who to call. An image of Luke pops into my head. Maybe he’ll pick up on the after-hours number for the police department.
Frank punches the register when he can’t get it open, his face contorted with rage. “Open it now!”
***
Luke
As soon as I leave the shop, I’m trying to think of a reason to go back inside, any reason to spend a couple more minutes in Austin’s presence. She’s got a beautiful, shy smile, and some weeks when I’m really lucky, she gives me one.
Every time I’m in there, I spend those precious moments trying to come up with a way to ask her out. Then I talk myself out of it and leave with a rock sitting in my gut.
She probably doesn’t even remember me. But I’ve been watching over her since she was eighteen. A senior in high school, she went into the gas station to get an after-school snack. Same as she did every day.
I was a rookie detective. My only assignment had been to monitor the store where junkies frequently bought their next fix. But when one of the tweakers pulled a gun and held up the shop, I didn’t monitor.
I went inside against orders.
I had to. It was my duty.
Because she was there.
Scared and alone.
I lost my job that day, and I ended up moving back to my hometown of Courage County. Some would say I came back in disgrace, but I’ve always held my head high. I did what I needed to do to keep an innocent girl safe. I have no regrets even though it ended my career.
As the years have passed, I’ve done my best to watch over her despite the distance between us.
When she moved here last year and opened her flower shop, I began visiting every week. Just to check up on her.
I scan the receipt only to realize that Austin undercharged me for the flowers. I’ll take any excuse to see the cute redhead again, so I hurry back to the shop with the flowers in hand.
I step inside just in time to see a man cornering her. Instantly, I recognize him as her stepfather. His arm comes up to hit her and watching the way she shrinks back has rage boiling in my veins.
I’m by his side in a second, flowers forgotten on the floor behind me. I grab his arm to keep him from hurting her. I turn my gaze to Austin.
Her cheek is already turning purple and swelling. Her rounded green gaze stares at me, shock written across her face. Don’t you know I’ll always protect you?
Because killing him would be illegal, I spin him around and pin him against her counter. I’ve got the cuffs on, and I’m halfway through reading him his rights when Austin touches my arm.
I pause to glance at her.
She licks the bottom of her split lip, a sight that only fuels my rage. She’s bleeding, and it’s his fault. “Let him go.”
The guy is squirming beneath me, calling me every profanity in the book. I’ve heard them all before as sheriff.
I ignore her and continue with his rights. Pieces of shit like him always walk if a law enforcement officer forgets even the slightest detail.
“Wait,” she whispers. “I don’t want to press charges today. Just get him out of here. Please, Luke.”
It’s the way she says my name that undoes me. I’d do anything for her, and she doesn’t even know the power she holds over me.
I march the guy outside even as he’s still cussing me. There’s a part of me that hopes he’s stupid enough to take a swing when I take these cuffs off, then it becomes an assault on an officer. My desire to avenge Austin is so strong that I’d stand here and take a couple of punches.
“Listen, asshole,” I say as I uncuff him. “You don’t come near Austin again. You don’t come to her shop. You don’t go to her home. Or I’ll fuck you up. You got that?”
He shoves away from me. “Tell her to get me my money.”
I take one step toward him. My self-control is already fraying. The only thing that’s keeping me in check is the fact that I want to get back to Austin and make sure she’s OK. “Out of here. Now.”
He spits on my boots before giving me a cocky salute and returning to a black truck.
I stay rooted to my spot on the sidewalk, watching the vehicle pull away. I memorize the tag number before hurrying to check on Austin. My Austin.