up, Ry. You’re not worried about that now because kicking his ass is what you want. Can’t blame you,” Owen added with a glint in his eye that belied the mild tone.
“But you’ll be in jail or facing charges, and Clare’s going to be more upset. The kids, too. He’s also the type—I’ve always hated that smug bastard—to take it out on Clare. Scare her again, or threaten her, or just badmouth her like he did to Darla back in the day.”
“Ry kicked his ass over that, didn’t he?” Beckett demanded.
“Yeah, but Darla didn’t have kids who’d end up hearing the kind of crap he might spread about their mother. You know that’s just the sort of thing he’d do.”
“And you expect me to do nothing?”
“I expect you to pay a visit to his daddy’s dealership tomorrow and have a talk with him. If you can’t intimidate that weasly son of a bitch, you’re no brother of mine. You scare him, maybe he stops this shit. If he doesn’t, since we—and the crew—will be looking out for Clare, we deal with him.”
“It’s the roundabout way of kicking his ass,” Ryder commented. “When there are witnesses.”
“If it comes to that, and we deal with him in public, or in front of people, he’s humiliated. Side benefit there.”
“Maybe.” Calmer now, Beckett picked up Owen’s half-finished beer. “Maybe.”
“You need to talk to Clare.”
Fury surged back. “Believe me, I’ll be talking to Clare. Why the hell didn’t she tell me this herself?”
“That’d be my first question,” Ryder agreed. “And I have to agree with what Owen said before you got here. She’s got to file a complaint or report or whatever with the town cops so they’ve got it on record. So do we talk to him or punch his face in?”
Beckett understood the “we,” though he’d be the one taking the action.
“Talk first, punch later.”
“Good. Get your own beer,” Owen said and took his back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO DAYS, CLARE OPENED THE door of the bookstore early. But this time she did it with a smile on her face.
“Hi. I just got in. It’ll be a couple minutes yet for coffee.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Beckett shut the door behind him.
“Oh, something’s wrong.” Instinctively she reached for his hand. “Is there trouble at the inn?”
“No. I want to know why you didn’t tell me about Sam Freemont.”
Damn it, Avery. Resentment laced with irritation rolled in first. “It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.”
She moved behind the counter. Maybe he didn’t want coffee, but she did. Plus it gave her both a little distance and something to do with her hands.
“You mean it wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with me.”
“Or at all. It was an uncomfortable situation. Dealing with the public means I deal with uncomfortable situations from time to time.”
“How many times do you have a customer trap you in here alone and put his hands on you?”
“I wasn’t trapped.” She refused to think of herself that way. Trapped or helpless. “And it was my own fault for opening the door in the first place.”
“Why the hell did you?”
Since she’d berated herself a dozen times since, the sharp, sharp question struck like a slap. She responded in kind. “Look, Beckett, it was knee-jerk. A customer at the door, and someone I knew.”
“Someone you know who’d already been coming on to you, annoying you.”
“Yes, and in hindsight I shouldn’t have let him in. You’d better believe I won’t make that mistake again. I made that clear to him, and to Avery. She shouldn’t have gone running to you about this. It’s my business.”
“Is that how it is? I’m supposed to stay out of your business?”
She let out a sound of impatience. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what you said, and that’s how it strikes me, all the way through.”
She felt trapped again, this time by too much concern and what she judged as out-of-place anger.
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“I don’t think so. Anytime I want to give you a hand with something, I have to talk you into it.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of—”
“Why the hell not? We’re sleeping together—when we get the chance.”
“That doesn’t mean I want or expect you to deal with things I’m perfectly capable of dealing with myself. I appreciate your help, you know I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start depending on you to take care of me.”
The beat of silence that followed tolled like a bell.