Hometown Hero (Hometown Alaska Men Book 2) by Joleen James Read Free Book Online Page B

together.
    Tawney laughed. Fun indeed.
    *    *    *
    Rick cruised past Tawney's place. The lights were out. Was she already home, in bed? Or were the ladies still partying like rock stars?
    He continued on to his place, pulled into his garage and cut the engine. Exiting the Jeep, he felt the wad of bills in his front pocket. He smiled—three hundred dollars richer than he'd been before the poker party.
    They'd given Cade a decent send off from single dad, complete with stripper. The girl had done nothing to rev Rick's motor and the reason why bothered him. Compared to Tawney, the girl had looked cheap, her body a bit on the boyish side. He hated that he'd compared the stripper to Tawney, but there was something about Tawney he'd never been able to shake, even after he'd left her at the altar. Maybe it was the wounded way she'd looked at him that night so long ago, or maybe it was the pride he saw in her now. Either way, the woman got under his skin.
    Rick was on his way to the house when a car drove by. The horn honked twice. The car pulled into Tawney's driveway.
    The girls were home.
    Tawney got out of the car. Female laughter reached his ears and God help him, he started walking toward Tawney's place.
    "Bye," he heard her call out. "Drive safe!"
    Brandi pulled away.
    Tawney had already let herself inside when he reached the cottage. The lights were on now.
    For a second he just stared at her door. What was he doing, following her like a stalker? If he knocked on the door now he'd scare her to death. She might even shoot him. She already seemed jumpy.
    He grinned.
    Yeah, she'd probably shoot him. In her mind he deserved to be shot.
    It was enough to know she was safe.
    Rick went home. He'd just removed his jacket when a second car passed outside. A glance out the window showed brake lights. The car idled in front of Tawney's cottage.
    Rick waited for the car to move on. When it didn't, he let himself out and approached the vehicle. The back plate was smeared with dirt and he couldn’t get a read.
    "Hey," he called out when he got close the car.
    The car sped off, the tires screeching in the still night.
    What the heck? Who had been in the car? Why had they stopped in front of Tawney's place? Had she drawn the attention of some random guy who'd been unable to take no for an answer, or was he reading too much into nothing?
    "Rick?"
    Tawney stood in the open doorway.
    "What's going on?" she asked. "Why are you out here?"
    How much should he tell her? Would he come off looking like a lunatic if he told her he thought someone was watching her? Or would he succeed in spooking her even more?
    "Just taking a walk."
    "I heard a car." She held the front of her robe together with one hand.
    "Yeah. The car just passed. Probably a kid just showing off."
    "Oh."
    He could hear the relief in that one word. "How was your party?"
    "Nice," she said. "How was yours? Did you win?"
    "Three hundred big ones." He smiled.
    "That's great." The wind stirred her hair. "Well, it's late and it's freezing."
    "Yeah." He stuffed his cold hands in his jacket pockets.
    "See you tomorrow."
    "Good night."
    She closed the door.
    Rick started for home, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling riding his gut. He'd been a cop too long to ignore his own intuition. Tawney thought someone had been following her the other night, and now, a strange car in front of her place. Were the two events related, or was his PTSD getting the best of him, making him ultra-paranoid?
    All of his senses were awake now, alert, in police mode. As much as he hated the idea of Tawney toting a gun around, he was glad she had it. He hated that she didn’t own a phone.
    He doubted he'd sleep much tonight. Tomorrow he'd make it his business to up the safety at Tawney's place.
    *    *    *
    Tawney had thirty minutes to kill before her shift at the bar. The sun had come out this morning, upping the temperature outside to a toasty thirty degrees. The bay sparkled, beckoned.