Love Money Read online

  “I’m Jett,” he says and offers me his hand. His head tilts and his eyes narrow as they hold steady with mine. “Have we met before?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  A slow smile touches his lips. “No, I suppose not. I’d think I’d remember someone like you.”

  Wow. Cue instant blush.

  The door near the mad woman slams, pulling his attention. I take this time to let my gaze rake over his body. He’s got a solid build and is probably a good three inches on my own five-foot-six. Any smaller T-shirt and his biceps would definitely rip those sleeves up. I’ve always read about these types of muscular men before, but this is probably the first time I’ve actually seen and understood it. I mean, yeah, how creeped out would he be if I just reach out and touch him?

  “That lady is crazy pissed off,” Sam says behind me.

  “Hey, some opinions should be thought and not spoken,” I say to him. At least not spoken in front of people we don’t know.

  “Yeah, but she started it when she shouted asshole from—”

  “Sam!”

  “What?”

  “This one with you?” Jett asks. The fact he is entertained by Sam is evident in his laughter.

  “Yes, this is Sam,” I say.

  “Hi,” Sam says and shakes his hand.

  “And you are?” Jett asks, his attention moving from my nephew to me. “I don’t think you had time to tell me before the crazy pissed lady disappeared.”

  “See, everyone thinks she’s—” I pull Sam to my side and cover his mouth with my hand as I look at Jett. “I’m Charlie.”

  Jett points to the U-Haul. “You two just move here?”

  “Yeah, well, moved back anyway. We’ve been living in Arizona.”

  “Need a hand?” he asks.

  “No, I think we can manage, but thank you.”

  “Uncle Jett!” A boy, who looks to be around Sam’s age, skips the last few steps and runs toward us. “Did you get it?” he asks, eyes wide and a big smile on his face.

  “I might have,” Jett answers.

  “Show me, please, please,” the boy begs, and his eyes grow even bigger.

  I glance at Sam, who is watching the interaction just as closely as I am.

  Jett pulls something out of a bag I hadn’t noticed he was holding, and not only is the boy I don’t know cheering, but so is Sam.

  “Whoa! I’ve been wanting to play this game,” Sam says.

  “Me too!”

  “Why don’t you two go play?” Jett says, looking to me.

  “Oh, I’m not sure,” I say. I don’t even know these people. He’s hot, yeah, but I can’t just let Sam go play with strangers.

  “This is my nephew, Max. Max, this is Charlie and her son, Sam.”

  The boys exchange a quiet hello. People always assume Sam is my son. I don’t correct them because our situation isn’t ideal and sharing that Sam’s mother was murdered, leaving me as his guardian … well, people stutter and forget how to make eye contact, once you say it.

  “Please.” Sam’s eyes widen. I want to let him, because his game station has been packed up for a few days, but unloading this truck alone will take me all afternoon.

  “If you let him play, I’ll help you unload your car. and I’ll recruit help,” Jett offers.

  “I don’t want to impose,” I say.

  “You’re not,” he says. “Besides, I think my sister could use the distraction.”

  He flashes me a grin, grabs the box out of my arms, and heads up the stairs.

  Oh no.

  The boys and I follow him till we reach the third floor. The angry woman dashes out of her apartment, which is directly across from mine, and shoves more items over the railing. Good Lord, how much more could this guy own? The inner courtyard is disappearing quickly from all his clothes. Jett just stands there like it’s nothing, while Sam follows Max inside her apartment.

  “Oh, I—” I begin.

  “Whit,” Jett says and the woman stops.

  “What?”

  Jett nods my way. “This is your new neighbor. Her kid just went inside to play the new Madden game with Max, and I recruited us to help her unpack.”

  “Hiya,” Whit says.

  “Hi,” I say back.

  You wouldn’t know by her beaming smile that she’s just been shouting profanities to no one in particular.

  “I’m Whit,” she says, offering me her hand, and with the other she flips her black hair over her shoulder. It reaches to about the middle of her back. She’s got on a pair of black yoga pants and a red shirt. Standing barefoot, she looks to be my height. Her blue eyes are what catch my attention, though. They are almost as deep as my sister’s used to be.

  “Charlie,” I say.

  Jett’s phone rings right then, and he sets my box down and gives a one-sec finger before he disappears inside.

  “Shall we?” Whit says and bops down the steps.

  “You really don’t have to help me,” I say, following behind her.

  “It’s nothing, really. I need something else to focus on.” She pauses on the steps and turns to look at me. “I’m not always this dramatic. Just so you know.”

  She heads back down the steps.

  What do I say to that?

  “There aren’t any rules when a girl is cheated on, so please, by all means, be crazy,” is what I come up with.

  Whit laughs. “I think I like you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “True. What’s your shoe size?” she asks, glancing at my cream wedges. Not exactly moving shoes, but they are strappy and go with any outfit—even the skinny blue jeans and orange V-neck I have on right now.

  “Eight and a half,” I answer.

  “Mine too! Mint or Oreo?”

  “Both. Is that even a question?”

  “Trick one. You passed. Yoga or CrossFit?”

  “Yuck. Yoga. I feel like I just had a Step Brothers interview,” I tell her.

  “You watch Step Brothers? Now I know you are meant to be my best friend.”

  I read a meme once on Facebook about how weird it is when you meet someone and almost instantly you think, “yep this will be my friend.” I thought it was silly, but now I know exactly what it means. I don’t know if it’s because she clearly takes no shit or because she has that upbeat personality like my sister had, but I think Whit and I will make great friends.

  “So which boxes do you want to move first?” Whit asks as we reach the back of my car and stare at my entire life jammed into the U-Haul.

  “I mean, I’m not exactly eager to move any of them, sooo,” I say, and Whit begins to laugh at the same time she grabs a basket stuffed with blanket and sheets.

  I laugh with her and pull out two rolling carry-ons.

  “What are you two laughing at?” Jett’s asks, reaching past me to grab another box. His muscles tighten against his shirt, and I can’t look away.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yeah,” I say and look up.

  His shit-eating grin says he caught me.

  “Do you want help with that?” he asks, his eyes flashes to the luggage I’m half holding half letting slide out of the car.

  “Got it,” I say and re-grip the damn thing.

  I retreat up the stairs, prop up both suitcases just inside my entryway, and before I follow Jett and Whit back down the steps, I poke my head into her apartment.

  “Sam, I’ll just be out here if you need …” My words trail off as I catch a glimpse of the breaking news banner at the bottom of the TV screen.

  Jimmy Kincaid escaped custody and is on the run. The escapee is highly dangerous—

  Max switches the screen to the video game before I can read the rest. I don’t need to. I saw more than enough.

  The best friend of Sam’s father, the man who harassed Sam and me for weeks about stealing some stupid money that belongs to him, just escaped prison.

  “Charlie?”

  I flinch and bump against the door frames as I
twist to face Jett. “Yeah?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I say and march right past him to my car.

  I sure as hell hope my answer is real, because if Jimmy finds out Sam and I are back, I’m not sure what he’d do. And I don’t want to find out.

  Jimmy has never been the kind to understand and move on—he’s the type to get what he wants and kill if he doesn’t.

  Chapter Two

  Jett

  Whenever I’m on an assignment, the only free time I get is when I’m faking jail time. My sister’s neighborhood is nothing like the ones I run jobs in. Thank god. So more often than not, I hole up with my sister and nephew during this downtime instead of staying at my own apartment where anyone could find me. Clint is still behind bars, so until he’s released, I need to lay low. I don’t need his friends seeing me out and about and getting the message back to him that they saw me. That could lead to questions on why he went to jail and I didn’t. Once Clint is released, I’ll go home, but till then, this is where I’ll be.

  I jog around the corner to the main building where the residents’ gym is located. Not leaving this place can make me go a little crazy. Plus, if I’m going to crack the Kincaid case, I need to say focused. Nothing sharpens my train of thought like a good workout.

  Usually, the gym is vacant in the mornings, but not today. Today, Charlie, my sister’s new neighbor is in here. She’s on the treadmill with a towel over the time and speed and with what I think is an e-reader in front of her.

  She hasn’t noticed me yet.

  She has light brown hair that looks insanely soft. Right now, it’s braided down her back and hits just between her shoulder blades. I hadn’t noticed it before. I’d been so memorized by the green in her eyes to see anything else. And her lips. Fuck. I’d never seen a set so full and alluring in my entire life.

  She presses a button and her speed walk turns to a slight jog. Her ass looks perfect and round as she runs.

  Okay, don’t be weird.

  She’s beautiful and has a banging body for someone who can’t weigh more than one thirty. Dating, or even the idea of casual sex, isn’t something I should think about in the middle of an assignment, but with Charlie, my mind goes there and there is no going back.

  Against my better judgment, I step up on the treadmill next to her.

  She startles at first, but then her eyes meet mine, and I swear to god, I’ve never in my life seen someone smile so big at me.

  I could get used to this.

  “Hey,” I say. She shakes her head and points to her ear.

  She’s got headphones in.

  How can she listen to music and read at the same time? Either way, this is good. No talking.

  I came in here to focus. To get my head in the game. Not flirt.

  I press start and put the speed to a nice jog. When I find my pace, I hear the beep as Charlie ups her speed.

  She can run faster than me.

  It’s fine.

  I make it a whole thirty seconds before I up my speed to what I assume hers could be near. If she’d move the towel, I could match it. Right as I find my stride, she ups her speed, again.

  I side eye her. She’s still reading her book.

  I up my speed again.

  So does she.

  Me.

  Her.

  Me.

  Her.

  Fuck, I’m running out of breath here. We’re both at a full-on sprint now, and this time when I look over, she’s grinning at me.

  “How fast are you going?” I ask. She shrugs and again, points to her headphones.

  “Fine,” I say, knowing she can’t hear me. “You want to race, let’s race.”

  I knock my speed up to nine point zero and find the best fucking stride I can. I’m focusing on my breath and my steps now, but I’m aware of her reaching for the adjustment button.

  The next few seconds happen before I can process them.

  Charlie pushes up her towel and e-reader to view her speed. She pushes too much, and her e-reader falls off, hits the handle bar, and lands on my track. I leap to miss it. My foot catches the edge of the belt, jerking me back. I reach for my handle, but all I see are Charlie’s eyes going wide as she jerks her headphones off and watches me fly off the gym equipment.

  Not my finest moment.

  “Oh my gosh!” she cries out, taking the time to stop both her track and mine before she hops off. I’m front side down, looking up at her. If I weren’t holding my head up, I’d have a burn mark from the track on my forehead.

  “Are you okay?” She drops to her knees next to me and leans forward when I don’t answer right away. “Jett?”

  I hear her; I know I should say something, but damn. I should have just stayed in the apartment. At least there I’m not making an ass out of myself.

  “Jett,” she says again and I finally roll over.

  “I’m fine.”

  She breathes a sigh of relief. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a closed mouth smile. “Sorry.”

  I nod and then push myself to sit next to her.

  “If you hadn’t said ‘let’s race,’ we’d probably both be still successfully running right now.” I twist my neck to look at her.

  “You heard me?”

  She shrugs. “You were talking to me, right?”

  “Yeah, but you kept pointing to your headphones so I didn’t think you were listening.”

  “Well, after the second time, I put them on mute.”

  “That would have been nice to know,” I say with a laugh.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks again.

  “Yes. My pride is a bit bruised, but I’ll manage.” I rise to my feet and then help her up.

  “Oh no,” she says and points to the wall. “Was that from you?”

  I follow her finger and sure enough, there is a hole in the wall where my heel hit.

  “You know, we might keep this between us,” I tell her.

  She fake zips her lips and fake tosses a key over her shoulder and then hops back on the treadmill.

  “Round two?” she asks.

  “No,” I say firmly and shake my head.

  “Okay.” Another shrug as she picks up her e-reader and adjusts her towel to resume her run.

  “Do you always read when you run?” I ask.

  “No, I really wasn’t a reader till maybe late teens.”

  “And now you’re how old?” I ask.

  She bites her lip to keep from smiling and I swear the movement is like a magnet, pulling me toward her just to be closer.

  Her bottom lip pops when she releases it, and her eyes flash to my lips before she answers. “I’m twenty-two.”

  Wow. She must have been really young when she had Sam. Like, crazy crazy young.

  I want to ask her more, to know her story, but with that comes questions about myself, and well, I’m not in a place to be sharing anything.

  I take a step back and wink.

  “See you around, Charlie.”

  Her smile stretches wide.

  “See you around, Jett.”

  I hop off the treadmill and round the corner to the free weights before I do something I know I shouldn’t.

  I sit on one of the benches and pull my phone out to set a song when an email comes through. It’s from Captain, an article with an attached image of Jimmy Kincaid and the latest update. The clipping reads: Jimmy Kincaid spotted less than twenty miles outside of Casper, Wyoming.

  That’s right outside of town, west of the Volney Ranch.

  At the bottom of the email, in bold red letters, my captain writes,

  Keep your eyes open and stay focused.

  Focused.

  When am I anything but focused?

  I hear the sound of the treadmill speed up right before I put my headphones in and turn up the music.

  Focus. You’ve got an assignment to take down and money to find.

  Charlie

  I’m all about Sam making new friends,
but I really don’t want him to wear out our welcome by spending too much time at our new neighbor’s place. Plus, I start work next week and I thought we could hang out. He may be my nephew, but he’s like my best friend, too.

  Stepping out the door, I knock on Whit’s.

  The sound from the boys’ video game is clear through the door, and I’m not sure they will hear me over the TV volume.

  I’m about to knock again when the door swings open. I was already mid-knock, so this leaves me tripping to catch my feet.

  Two arms steady me and I freeze.

  “You okay?” Jett asks.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Think we’ll ever be able to be around each other without one of us falling?” he asks.

  “Technically, I didn’t fall,” I point out.

  “Yeah, because I caught you. Which, by the way, would have been cool if you’d attempted to do the same for me earlier today.”

  I have no time to stop my open-mouth laugh. I’d gone to the gym to release my tension over Jimmy escaping prison, but then Jett showed up and I forgot everything. I’ve never met anyone who could pull me from my own thoughts the way he does.

  “If you had seen it from my eyes, there was nothing anyone could have done to help you,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, well,” he starts, but the video game goes off again and I can’t hear him.

  “Sam,” I call out to tell him to turn it down, but Jett nudges me outside.

  “Let them play a little longer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max this excited over a friend,” Jett says.

  As much as I want to hang out with my nephew, I’m sure he’s having more fun in there.

  “Okay, well, just send him home when they’re done, I guess,” I say and turn for my apartment.

  “Hold up,” he says and points to the steps before taking a seat. “It’s mid-July and still sixty degrees out with no wind. Let’s take advantage of it.”

  “All right,” I say and take the seat next to him. The steps aren’t very wide, so when I sit my leg brushes against his and stays there. The touch sends my heart racing.

  He’s just a guy. No big deal.