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“It will be hard to prove you didn’t give the necklace to her,” Hemlock brought up, hating that the truth sucked.

Charlie nodded her head. “It would be my word against Ashley’s and Ashley has Crispen in her corner.”

“Do you think she’d pawn it?” Hemlock asked.

“No. She’s always wanted it.” Ashley wouldn’t give it up now that she had it. The necklace was the only piece of jewelry she had left from her mother. “I will get it back. Mark my words.” And she would get it back even if she had to rip it from Ashley’s throat.

Something told Hemlock that Charlie wasn’t kidding. She would get her necklace back. He caught the look that Sherlock gave him. Shrugging, Hemlock thought who was he to tell Charlie what she should or shouldn’t do. It was her business and her life.

“Sherlock, thanks brother for getting us some concrete answers.”

“No problem. Let me know if I can be of any other help.” Sherlock fist-bumped Hemlock before the brother walked away with Charlie.

“Will do.” Hemlock tugged Charlie away from the video and nodded to Sherlock letting him know he’d be calling him soon.

Chapter Eleven

It’d been two weeks since she moved into Hemlock’s condo, and Charlie couldn’t begin to repay him for all his kindness. On top of letting her live there, he’d also let her borrow his car, sparing her the hassle of taking the bus. She wasn’t used to this kind of generosity. After years of scraping by, she felt almost guilty accepting it, like she was taking advantage of him. But Hemlock didn’t seem to mind.

After everything Hemlock had done for her, and was still doing for her, Charlie was trying her best to just be grateful. Thinking it might be a small gesture, but one that felt meaningful. Hemlock wasn’t the kind of guy to expect grand gestures, so to show some form of appreciation she stopped off at the diner she worked at on the weekends. Going by what she’d seen him eat, Charlie felt pretty certain she knew what he might like from the restaurant.

An hour later, she walked into the house carrying the brown paper bag from the diner. Closing the door, she dropped the car keys into the wooden bowl where Hemlock kept them, then set her purse on the little hall table. She was about to call out hisname when she heard female laughter coming from the living room.

Her heart dropped at the realization he had a date. Somewhere deep down she had hoped things would progress between them. Seemed that wasn’t the case. Turning around she picked up her purse, scooped up the keys and headed for the door as quietly as she could. Two steps away from the door she heard heavy footsteps coming in her direction from the kitchen and knew it was Hemlock.

“Charlie.”

She froze, her hand on the door handle. She wasn’t sure whether to turn around or just bolt out of there. Looking over her shoulder she forced a smile. “Hey. I was just heading back out.”

His expression was unreadable at first, the flicker of surprise barely visible before it settled into something softer, almost cautious. “You’re leaving?” he asked, his voice low. “Didn’t you just come in?”

She felt her hands tremble, but kept the smile plastered on her face, knowing it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I… I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying her calm demeanor when she said, “Sounds like you’ve got company.”

“I do.” He took a step toward her, his brow furrowing. “Wait, you’re not interrupting anything. It’s not—” he stopped, his gaze flickering to the door, to her purse, to the keys… the bag in her hand.

“I’ll grab a hotel room. I don’t want to disturb your date.”

“My date?” he asked questioningly.

“Yeah. Your date.”

Hemlock let out a low chuckle, the sound rich with amusement.“I don’t have a date here,” Hemlock’s voice had a teasing edge to it, and it felt like he was enjoying this a little too much.

Charlie felt her cheeks warm, unsure whether she should apologize or just ignore the whole thing. “So, you’re not—?” Charlie couldn’t finish the sentence, the words hanging awkwardly in the air. “Isn’t there a woman here?” she asked.

“Yes. But she’s not with me.” Hemlock chuckled. Charlie was too cute. “Vicious and Sway are here along with Truck.”

“My mistake.” Charlie tugged her purse strap higher on her shoulder, trying to cover the way her hands felt suddenly clammy.

“No worries,” Hemlock said, his voice light, but there was something else behind his words. Hemlock’s eyes sparkled as he straightened up and took a few steps toward her, his gaze steady but searching. “Do I smell food?”

Holding out the bag Charlie gave him a weak smile, “It’s from the diner.”

Hemlock lifted the bag from her arms and nodded for her to follow him into the kitchen. He watched as she set her purse down and tossed his keys into the wooden bowl on the hall table. It was starting to be a familiar sight. “How was your day?”

The way he asked about her day made the butterflies in Charlie’s stomach flutter. Her feelings for Hemlock grew stronger every time he asked about her day or checked in on her. As she followed him into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but appreciatethe way his body moved. He wasn’t muscular like a body builder. His body was naturally toned and muscular from hard work. “What did you bring home for us?” he asked, snapping her back to the present and away from admiring his body.

Giving him a sheepish smile when Hemlock looked at her, she answered, “Everything.”