Page 11

Chapter 11

Ruth

Tobias's commanding tone makes me feel several different emotions all at once. Frightened for what he's possibly going to tell me happened at the boutique. Snippy at being bossed around. And if I'm honest, incredibly turned on with his take charge masculine tone. His face is set in hard lines, jaw clenched tight as he gestures toward my shop door. Calvin gives me a sympathetic glance before backing away, clearly wanting no part of whatever storm is brewing.

"Tobias," I find myself saying, even as I'm fishing my keys from my purse. "What's wrong?"

Tobias doesn't respond, just stands there radiating tension. The commotion at Martha's boutique has drawn a small crowd of onlookers, and two police cruisers now block the parking lot.

"Is Martha okay?" I ask, unlocking the door.

"Inside," is all he says.

I bite back my snappy retort and head into Blossoms, the familiar scent of flowers and greenery usually calming me but not this time. Tobias follows right behind me, closing the door firmly behind him and flipping the lock.

"What is going on?" I ask, my back against the counter. "I was just talking to Martha yesterday about—"

Tobias is standing near the door. "Four men in masks." He took a step toward me. "Same as the bakery." Another step. "Same as the antique store." His voice is clipped, deep, and professional. "They beat her. Badly. Broke her arm, probably some ribs."

My hand flies to my mouth. "Oh my God. Is she going to be ok? What did they take?"

"I don't know." Tobias takes another step. "These are escalating with more violence each time." Another step and he's close enough for me to hear his breathing. "You need to change your ways. And install security. Better security."

"I have an alarm system," I pointed to the keypad near the door. "And I lock up."

"Not enough." He shakes his head, hands on his work belt. "Listen to me, from now on, no more working late. No coming in early. Regular business hours only. And you don't enter this building without another person. Don't look at me like that. These are the rules."

I blink, trying to process his words. "Ex-cu-se me?"

"You heard me." A half step closer. "And you're going to go see Randy at the sporting goods store and buy a taser. Today. He'll show you how to work it. You WILL carry it with you at all times, to and from work. No excuses."

"A taser?" My voice rises. "Tobias, I don't—"

"And no more–"

Something in me snaps. The fear about Martha quickly transforms into indignation at being ordered around.

"Hold on." I closed the distance between us, planting my hands on my hips. "You don't get to march in here and start barking commands at me. This is my shop. My business. My life."

"This isn't up for negotiation, Ruth." His eyes flash. "These people are vicious. They don't steal; they hurt. Deliberately."

"I understand that. But you can't just order me—"

"I can and I will." Tobias moves toward the door, "I'm also having a deputy drive by regularly. And where is Joey? He's small but he's a good alarm system."

"What? He's with my Aunt. Are you assigning deputies to me?" The fear I initially felt is being thoroughly consumed by irritation. "Don't I get any say in this?"

Tobias turns and looks at the door, when he turns back his expression softens slightly. "Ruth, Roo, be reasonable. Four business owners have been attacked in less than a week. Martha's shop is three doors down from yours."

"I am being reasonable. I'm happy to take precautions, but I don't appreciate being treated like I'm incapable of making my own decisions." I cross my arms. "Are you giving these same orders to all the shop owners?"

He hesitates, and I know I've touched a nerve.

"You work alone," he finally says. "That makes you vulnerable."

"So does Calvin at the hardware store. Are you ordering him to buy a taser too?"

Tobias's jaw tightens again. "Calvin has security bars on all his windows and a shotgun under the counter."

"Well, I'm not getting a shotgun." My anger is building. "And I can't afford to hire Mary full-time just so I'm not alone."

"Then adjust your hours. Open later, close earlier."

"And lose the business I've spent years building? No." I shake my head firmly. "You don't get to decide how I run my shop, Tobias."

"Damn it, Ruth!" His voice rises, frustration evident. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? I'm trying to keep you safe!"

"What do you care if I'm safe!" I snap back, then immediately regret my tone. The hurt that flashes across his face makes me pause. "Look, I appreciate your concern. Really. But I can't just rearrange my entire life because some criminals might target my shop."

"Don't you get it? What if they hurt you?" His voice drops, almost breaking on the last word. "What if I'm not here to..."

The unfinished thought hangs between us. I move closer, close enough to catch the scent of his aftershave.

"Tobias," I say softly. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see past the professional concern to something more personal, more raw.

"I can't have you get hurt," he says simply. "I don't know what I would do."

"Why?" I press, stepping even closer. "Why me, specifically?"

He swallows hard, and I watch the internal battle play out on his face. Just when I think he might actually answer, he shakes his head and steps back.

"Because it's my job to protect the citizens of this county."

The professional mask slides back into place, and I feel something inside me snap. Without thinking, I turn and storm toward the back room.

"Where are you going?" he calls after me.

"Away from you!" I toss over my shoulder, pushing through the swinging door into my workspace.

I hear his heavy footsteps quickly following me. Good. Let him. I don't care. My business, I make the choices.

"Ruth, stop." His hand catches my arm, turning me to face him.

"No, Tobias, you stop." I pull my arm free. "Stop pretending this is just about your job. Stop giving me orders like you have some special right to control what I do. And just stop—"

His mouth crushes against mine, cutting off my words. One moment we're arguing, the next his hands are in my hair, his body pressing mine back against the worktable. I should push him away. I should be outraged.

Instead, my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as I return the kiss with equal fervor. There's anger in it, frustration, but also something desperate and needy that makes my heart race.

When we finally break apart, breathing hard, I stare up at him in confusion.

"That," I say breathlessly, "doesn't count as a proper explanation."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips before disappearing. "No, it doesn't."

"Then give me one, Tobias. A real one, the truth."

His hands slide to my shoulders, then drop away entirely as he steps back. The loss of contact leaves me aching.

"I can't," he says, and the defeat in his voice is worse than his earlier commands. "I just can't." He takes another, bigger step backwards.

Something in me deflates. "Then we have nothing more to talk about. I appreciate the warning about the break-ins. I'll be careful. But I can take care of myself, thank you."

His expression hardens again. "Fine. But at least promise me you'll look into better security."

"Sure," I concede, needing this conversation to end before I do something foolish like cry. Or kiss him again. Or even worse, both.

He nods once, all business now. "I'll have someone stop by later to get your statement about what happened with Martha this morning."

"I wasn't here when it happened."

"Standard procedure. We're talking to all nearby businesses." He straightens his uniform shirt, smooths back his hair. "I should get back to the crime scene."

"Of course," I say, my own professional mask slipping into place. "Duty calls."

He pauses at the door to the front shop, looking back at me with an expression I can't quite read. For a moment, I think he might say something more, might finally explain what's really going on with him and between us.

Instead, he simply nods and walks out, leaving me alone with the lingering taste of him on my lips and questions no one seems willing to answer.