Hot and Badgered. Shelly Laurenston

she . . . smiles?”

      “Yes.”

      * * *

      With her hair in a top knot and the ends scrunched a few times to help the curls form, Charlie washed her hands, dried them, and groped for her glasses. She knew she’d left them on the counter, but now she wasn’t quite sure where they were.

      The blur placed them into her hand and she put them on. Then she faced the blur and . . .

      “Oh . . . my.”

      A brow arched. “Something wrong?”

      Nope. Nothing was wrong. Everything was kind of... perfect.

      He was so pretty.

      Square jaw. Brown hair with gold highlights. And dark brown eyes. And that perfect head sat comfortably on a thick neck attached to giant shoulders that were joined to a frighteningly large body.

      Not a fat body. An overwhelmingly muscular body. How did he find clothes for that physique? The dark blue T-shirt he currently had on seemed to barely contain all those muscles.

      Charlie realized she was staring . . . she might even be drooling.

      “What was the question?” she asked.

      “Is something wrong?”

      “Wrong? What could be wrong?”

      “People are trying to kill you?”

      “Well, yeah, there’s that,” she admitted. “That’s definitely a problem. But, ya know . . . sadly not the first time.”

      “So all three of you are on the run?”

      Charlie sighed. “Very. I thought we could at least stay here a couple of days but now . . .”

      “I think I can help.” He pointed a finger at her. “I might know a place you can stay. You’ll be safe. Really safe.”

      Dropping her hands on her waist, Charlie said, “Dude—”

      “Berg.”

      “Whatever. I can’t ask you to do any more than you’ve already done. I mean, you’ve been amazing. I owe my life to you. I already can’t pay that back.”

      “You don’t have to pay back anything, and you’re still not safe.”

      “That’s not your problem. That’s my problem because being the daughter of Freddy MacKilligan means safety and security are just not part of my vocabulary.”

      “You need a place to re-group. Figure out what you’re going to do next. And I think we both know you can’t do that here. I don’t know Livy well, but she makes it clear when she doesn’t like someone. And she does not like your sister. But I think I can get you a place where you’ll have a little time to breathe.”

      Charlie hated bothering this man again. But, as always, her father had put her in a situation where she was left with few—if any—options.

      How could anyone be that big a fuck up? How could one man cause so much damage to so many without putting in that much effort to begin with? He was known for ridiculous schemes that managed to destroy entire banking systems. Deals that went so bad, his partners either ended up in prison or dead. Poorly planned plots and cons that blew up, but somehow didn’t affect Freddy MacKilligan at all, yet had his daughters running for their lives . . . again.

      Her father, as always, was the king of the fuck up.

      Until now, though. Because, finally, he was sitting in cold storage, and Charlie couldn’t wait to bury him. To be done with him. To pretend someone so idiotic had never existed.

      “Want me to make the call?” her handsome savior asked when her silence went on and on.

      “I . . .”

      “I really don’t mind. In fact, I want to do this for you.”

      “Why? I mean . . . are you really that good a person?”

      He shrugged and said, “Yes. I am. But I’m a bear, so we’re naturally loving and giving.”

      “Really? Because when I hear about bears, they’re either going through people’s garbage or attacking people in Alaska who were out on a jog.”

      “Because we were startled. Don’t startle us, we don’t attack.”

      “Unless you’re really hungry.”

      He gave an excruciatingly sweet grin. “Unless we’re really hungry.”

      Charlie laughed and decided to bite the bullet. “Okay. Your help would be greatly appreciated.” She glanced at the front of her phone and checked the time. “Uh . . .”

      “What?”

      “I’m just wondering if Livy would let us stash our stuff here for a couple more hours before we bail.”

      “Securing the place shouldn’t take that long.”

      “Oh, it’s not that. We’re just here in the City to identify our father’s body and we were supposed to be at the morgue, like, an hour ago.”

      “Wait a minute.” He held up his hand, palm out, his head cocking to the side before he asked, “Your father’s dead?”

      Crossing the middle and forefingers on both hands, Charlie raised them and said with a big smile she truly felt, “Here’s hoping!”

      chapter SIX

      Will MacKilligan sat down on the steps behind his house and stared at the kennels where the dogs were kept.

      They were usually barking. They barked all the time. Vicious beasts used for protection and, as Will liked to call it, “persuasion” when necessary. A bloke would reveal all with one of the MacKilligan dogs growling at them.

      But those same noisy dogs were quiet. Because they knew, instinctually, if they made one noise, Will was likely to kill every last one of them.

      To say he was angry would be a gross understatement. Since he was a teen, he’d been putting up with this bullshit, and he was done.

      For more than fifty years he’d had to deal with the American side of the MacKilligan family, caused by his father’s insatiable libido, and it was mostly not that big an issue. He had two half-sisters in the United States that he could tolerate on a good day and another half-brother he never saw. But that idiot. That fucking idiot.

      Freddy MacKilligan.

      That idiot Will wouldn’t put up with any more. Not for a second longer.

      But trying to find him would be the challenge. Like the snakes they all loved to eat, the bastard was wily. Could hide in plain sight sometimes. Or so it seemed.

      But Will was done playing this game with him. Especially now. Especially after what that bastard had done to him. Had done to the family.

      He didn’t even bother contacting his other half-siblings in the States. He doubted they would care any more than his own brothers and half-brothers here at home did. Not when it came to Freddy MacKilligan. And business-wise, they had no connections. The Scottish MacKilligan finances never mixed with the Americans. That’s how their father had set it up and that’s how it stayed.

      His eldest son sat down beside him on the step.

      “The uncles are calling,” he said calmly.

      “Let ’em call.” Will shook his head. “I can’t believe Freddy did this.”

      “I can’t believe he’s smart enough to do this. The man’s an idiot.”

      “A wily idiot. He’s maneuvered his way out of more shite than you know.”

      “We have our people in the States looking for him but—”

      “But