Chapter 15

"I'm not getting this vehicle washed again, Ally," Brody told his daughter. "My pickup has been cleaned by your classmates four times already. The paint will come off soon."

Lyntacky Elementary was fundraising for a school van. Principal Tanner said it would save them on hiring one, and they could go on more trips per class with their own transportation. So, here he was, up early on a Saturday, washing cars.

One thing Brody had noticed about school fundraisers: it was usually the parents who did most of the work.

"Your uncles will arrive soon, but Dan has driven through twice in his cruiser already."

"Dad, we have to keep busy before the locals wake up. And cleaning your pickup is good practice for when they arrive," Ally said.

His kid wore lemon overalls with a purple shirt and pink high-tops and her usual attitude.

"Which would be fine, if I didn't have to pay full price each time," Brody said .

He and his family could buy the van the school wanted but knew it would be appreciated more if the kids earned it.

"Where's your teacher? Shouldn't she be working at this too?" Brody said the words casually, like he didn't care if Phoebe was here or not, which he tried to tell himself was the truth.

"She'll be here. Mrs. Harris is doing the first hour, and then Ms. Stanway because she's moving houses."

"Yeah? To where?" He kept his tone casual.

"I overheard her saying to Mr. Tobias that she's moving into the McAllister cottage," Bobby said. He stood solemn-faced beside Ally and worshipped the ground she walked on because she kept him safe from bullies as far as Brody could see.

He had a lisp, which was cute, and wore brown shorts with a perfect crease down the front and a button-down short-sleeved pale blue shirt. Bobby was a kid-sized adult right down to his polished black leather shoes. The only thing scruffy was his blond hair. It shot out in all directions.

"Why are you wearing going-out clothes?" Ally asked Bobby.

"He looks nice," Brody said, giving his kid a glare, which had no effect on her. "And at least his clothes match, unlike yours."

"I don't like to look like others," she replied. Bobby sighed.

"You all good there, Bobby?" Brody asked.

"Mom said adults would respond better to me today if I dressed nice. I told her I wanted to wear my school clothes, but she said no."

Brody wasn't sure how to answer that one.

"Mr. Tobias likes Ms. Stanway," Ally said, which instantly stopped all thoughts of Bobby for Brody and returned them to Phoebe.

"I'm sure he likes a lot of people."

"Mr. Tobias reallllly likes Ms. Stanway," Bobby said.

That jab in his side was definitely not jealousy. Brody had no rights to that woman anymore.

"How is it you two know this?"

"Me. Tobias watches her and gets that look on his face like Uncle Sawyer gets when Aunt Birdie is near," Ally said.

"Mooney eyed," Bobby added.

"Ms. Stanway?—"

"Is here," Phoebe said, cutting Ally off.

He turned to find her behind him and hoped like hell she'd not just overheard the conversation he'd been having with Bobby and Ally. Brody fought to keep his eyes on her face. Her long legs were in black exercise shorts, and a fitted gray tank adorned the upper half of her body. Hot as fuck. She wore a Yankees baseball cap with her curls peeking out beneath.

"Take that piece of filth off your head. We support the Rockies in this town. You've forgotten your roots, Phoebe," Brody said.

Her smile was impersonal and didn't meet her eyes.

"I support who I want to support. No one is telling me different."

The old Phoebe would never have stood up to him like this. She'd have supported the Rockies because he had.

"A car!" Ally squealed, and then she sprinted off to wash her uncle Asher's police cruiser.

"I don't remember this hard-ass attitude from you before." He'd said the words to tease her, but the eyes that had been smiling chilled.

"Being a strong-willed, self-sufficient woman is not having a hard-ass attitude. I hope you've taught your daughter that, Brody."

"I was just?—"

She walked away before he could finish. "Well, hell," he muttered.

"Nephew, that look on your face tells me all is not right in your world."

"I'm all good, thanks, Uncle Asher. Any news on that guy asking questions about us?"

His uncle was in uniform and possibly the first man Brody really respected. His father, of course, but he'd died when he was young.

"Nothing. The guy seems to have vanished, so I'm not sure what that was about, but if he shows up again, we know what he looks like."

Brody nodded.

"Phoebe looks good." His uncle's eyes were on the pissed-off woman walking away from him.

"She does. So, are you here just because my kid bullied you into it?"

Uncle Asher placed a hand on his chest, but his eyes gave him away.

"Honestly, some of us need to say no to Ally occasionally," Brody said.

"That's not going to be me, Brody."

"You and all the rest," he muttered.

"So, what's really curdled your cream?"

"I'm raising a kid who already has an attitude like a teenager," Brody said, dragging his eyes from Phoebe, who was now helping wash the police cruiser. Those shorts looked really nice stretched across her ass.

"Fair point, and I'm sure that Phoebe Stanway returning to Lyntacky has nothing to do with your current mood or the fact you can't keep your eyes off her. "

"I dated her. Surely I'm allowed to be curious about the woman she's become," Brody said. He wasn't letting his uncle or anyone know that the woman in fact intrigued him… or more importantly, the woman she'd become did.

"That must be it then."

If he hadn't been looking at his uncle, he wouldn't have seen the smile that lit his eyes. Turning, Brody looked in the direction Uncle Asher was, which was behind him. The vet, Ms. Jonas, was driving in to get her silver four-wheel drive washed.

"She's nice, Ms. Jonas."

His uncle's head whipped back to look at him.

"Good with animals," Brody added, hiding his smile.

He'd never heard his uncle's name linked with a woman's, but he knew there had to have been some. He'd just been discreet, and that was understandable considering who he was in this town.

"She is. Heard good things about that," Uncle Asher said, sounding like he was choking on air.

"Nice lady too. Pretty," Brody added with a straight face. The chief of police in Lyntacky was nodding before he realized what he was doing.

"Yes, well, I need to go. See you, Brody."

"Your car should be cleaned in about ten minutes. Why don't you go see how Ms. Jonas is doing?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you do and what comes with being the town's top dog. You're nice to people and check on their welfare."

"I can do that. Will do that," he said, walking away from Brody seconds later.

He watched as Ms. Jonas smiled at Uncle Asher, and Brody saw interest in her eyes, so whatever that was, both of them were involved. That made him feel happy .

"Why are you looking like that?"

He hadn't seen his youngest brother return, but his vehicle was now being washed again by enthusiastic schoolkids.

"What look?"

Dan pursed his lips and crossed his eyes, looking constipated.

"I could never look that uncool, Double D."

His brother had more nicknames than anyone in the family, but Double D was Brody's favorite, especially as it annoyed the shit out of him.

Being the youngest, Dan had fought to keep up with his older brothers and was consequently tough, but it had still surprised Brody when he'd gone into law enforcement. The Duke brothers were not exactly known for being law abiding in their youth.

"Back to that look," Dan said. His hands were in the pockets of his uniform pants, and he was rocking back and forth on his heels.

Those who didn't know him would see it as a gesture of someone standing there talking, shooting some shit with his brother. But Brody knew him. It was his patience technique. Rocking back and forth meant he was waiting for someone to say something.

"Look right," Brody said, keeping his eyes on his brother and not searching for Phoebe. Dan did as he was asked.

"And?"

"What do you see?"

"Normal shit. Buildings. Uncle Asher and Ms. Jonas and…." His words fell away. "Well, I'll be." Dan whistled.

"Right?"

"Nice."

"I think so, but let's see how it plays out. "

"Never seen him with a woman, now I think about it, but the man must have had some. Not that I want to think about it," Dan added.

"Kinda makes you feel queasy."

"Kinda," Dan said, smiling. "But still cool."

"Very."

Dan's eyes swung back to Brody in time to see him looking at Phoebe.

"Speaking of?—"

"No," Brody said, walking away from him in the opposite direction of the hot schoolteacher.

He found Ally and Bobby washing Uncle Asher's tires.

"Hey, you two. How's it going?"

"Good, Dad. But we're hungry."

"You haven't even been at it two hours. You know in the real world you don't get to take as many breaks as you do in school, right?"

The kids gave each other a look that told him they thought he was old and they didn't need a lecture because they knew everything already.

"Sure. So, about that food, Dad?"

"I packed your lunch box in the car."

"Cool!" Ally was about to get to her feet, but Brody put a hand on her shoulder. "But you don't get it until you've finished the cruiser. Then you can share what's in there with Bobby if Ms. Stanway says that's okay."

"Dad."

"That's the deal, Ally." She looked at Bobby, and he nodded.

Brody looked around, telling himself he wasn't searching for Phoebe again, but he was. He couldn't see her, so he started moving. He smiled at kids and drivers of the cars now lined up to get washed .

Locals in Lyntacky always supported a good cause and turned out when they were needed.

"Ms. Stanway was pretty angry, Jack."

The words came from behind a pale blue sedan.

"She's going to tell Principal Tanner what you did."

"She doesn't scare me. No one in this town does. Ms. Stanway doesn't get how important my dad is, and that no one messes with me, so I'm teaching her a lesson."

"Yeah. It was funny seeing her face when you sprayed water over her and…." The words fell away as Brody stepped around the blue sedan and faced the two boys standing there.

"Who did you spray with water?" Brody asked in his stern voice, as Ally called it.

"No one," one boy mumbled. He knew the other was Jack Little, and he just gave Brody a smirk. That look was really starting to piss him off.

"Ms. Stanway is a teacher, and therefore, you should respect her. It didn't sound to me like you were," Brody said.

Jack shrugged. The other boy looked terrified now.

"The hose sprayed her. It was an accident." Jack's tone was surly. If he was Brody's kid, he'd have straightened that attitude out by now.

"Sure, and accidents happen, but from the conversation I overheard, you deliberately sprayed Ms. Stanway with water. The problem I have with that, Jack, is that Ms. Stanway deserves your respect, as do all women, and I don't see that happening here. In fact, I think your attitude is way off and needs some adjustment."

Jack didn't look so smug now.

"So, here's how this is going. If I hear you've been hassling Ms. Stanway or anyone else again, then I'm going to call in and have a chat with your daddy, and, Jack"—the boy looked at him wide-eyed—"I don't like bullies, and boys who don't respect women upset me. Maybe you should think about that before you try something again."

Brody walked away, wondering if he'd just overstepped. Not that he cared. That little snot was trouble, and he needed stopping.

Some locals let the kids use the facilities behind their shops when they were doing a car wash. Entering a building, he heard muttering coming from behind a door that was open a few inches. Leaning in, he listened.

"That little fucker needs a lesson in manners."

Smiling, he knocked.

"Be right out."

"Are you okay, Phoebe?"

"Fine. Go back to the car wash, Brody. I'll be out soon."

"Are you decent?"

"Do you think I would leave the door open if I wasn't decent?" She sounded testy now.

He opened it wider and found her standing in front of a mirror, blotting her tank with paper towels. His eyes took in the sweet swell of her breasts and then traveled up to her angry face.

"You sure you're okay?"

"I said I'd be out, didn't I? Now if you would leave, I'll just finish this and follow."

"Seems you really did lose your sweet nature in New York."

"My na?veté, don't you mean?" The words came out hard.

"Being sweet is na?ve?"

"Why are we having this conversation? It's pointless. Now go away, Brody. I'm not sure why you're standing there. I don't need your help. "

Brody wasn't sure why he was needling her, but he guessed he wanted a reaction or to find the girl he'd once known, which was messed up after what he'd done.

"Right, sorry, didn't mean to annoy you. I overheard that shit Jack Little saying he sprayed you deliberately with water. I don't think anything will sink in, but I had a chat with him about manners and the way to treat a lady."

If Brody thought she'd be happy about what he'd done, he was wrong. She glared at him. "I don't need you having a chat with him because I'm all grown up and can handle myself now."

"Sure, I can see that and know you can. But what I overheard was rude and needed to be dealt with then and there."

She made a choking sound in her throat that he thought could be anger or laughter.

"So, I thought he needed a lesson in how to treat a lady from a man."

"I try to like all my kids." She continued blotting the water on her top. Brody's eyes nearly crossed when she reached her nipples. "But that boy is hard to like. He's a horrid little?—"

"Delinquent?"

"That," she said, pointing a finger his way. Her hand lowered as she looked at him. "You can leave now, Brody. I think we've established we shouldn't spend too much time together."

"You established that. I want to apologize or at least explain?—"

"There is nothing to explain, Brody. You moved on faster than I did by sleeping with someone five months after I left." She threw the paper towel in the trash, the gesture angry .

"I know you came back to see me the day Ally was born, Phoebe."

"I did, and then I went back to New York and forgot about you."

Her eyes were on his chin, which told him maybe that was a lie, but he left that thought inside his head.

"I was an immature dickhead, Phoebe. I?—"

"Stop," she hissed, placing a hand on his chest and pushing. "What part of ‘I don't want to talk about this' don't you get, Brody? It happened ten years ago. It's done with. Now move so I can leave."

His hand settled over the one that was on his chest, and she stilled at the contact.

"I know what you say is true, but I never really apologized to you for my behavior. I want to do that now."

"Brody… you sent me a text back then," she whispered, her voice losing its strength. "Please, just leave this alone."

"I said sorry, but it wasn't anywhere enough."

"It's in the past."

He didn't move, and neither did she. They stared at each other, and he felt it again. That need he'd always had for this woman, but now it felt stronger, deeper, and when he had time to really think about that, it would terrify him.

Brody wasn't sure who moved first, and then their lips touched, and he forgot every thought but one: her.

He'd always loved the taste and feel of Phoebe's lips beneath his. Just a brush, and he'd been gone. That hadn't changed, he realized, as a combination of lust and need bolted through his body.

He slid a hand to her spine and pulled her closer. The feel of her pressed to him ignited him in seconds. He'd wanted her when she was younger, but this was different. This desperate need sweeping through him was almost primal.

The sound of music blaring from speakers had them pulling apart. She stared at him for long seconds and then whispered, "No, not again. Not now, not ever."

She then pushed him hard, and Brody stepped out of the room, allowing her to leave. Aroused, confused, he gave himself five minutes before he followed wondering what the hell he was going to do about Phoebe Stanway now.