Not His Type (4 page)

“You talked to
my mother?” Brooke asked, her tone somewhere between accusing and panic.

“I was hoping to
find a relative or someone, Brooke,” Travis answered.  “The phone rang and I
thought it might be a friend.  Your mother’s name is Satin?”

“Stage name.”

“Oh, is she a
performer?”

“You might say
that,” Brooke answered tightly.

“What does she
do?” Travis asked.

Brooke’s head
swung toward him again.  Travis looked at her.  The expression on her face
spoke volumes.

“Really?” she
said.  “Her stage name is
Satin
.  The woman named me
Bunny
, for
Pete’s sake!  What do
you
think she does?”

“I, uh…sorry.”

They rode in
silence after that.  Travis turned on the road that led to his house and
Brooke’s and she sat up a little straighter, one hand on the dashboard as she
craned her neck to see up ahead.  A car sat in Brooke’s driveway.

“You can just
let me out here,” Brooke said, the panicked note back in her voice.  “Really.”

“Don’t be
absurd, Brooke!” Travis said more sharply than he’d intended.  “I’ll help you
inside and get you settled.”

“Not necessary,
really!”

Travis parked
behind the shiny red Mustang next to Brooke’s ancient Buick.  He hurried around
to the passenger side of the Hummer and helped Brooke down from the high seat. 
He put an arm around her waist as she made her way slowly up the driveway to
the front porch.  She stopped and stood staring at the broken window next to
the front door.  Frowning, Travis used a booted foot to push aside shards of
glass before opening the door for Brooke.

“Bunny!” a voice
cried sharply as soon as they set foot inside the house.  “It’s about time! 
We’ve been waiting forever!  And your electricity’s off, so we couldn’t even
watch TV or microwave anything – not that you have any decent food in your
pantry or your fridge!”

The owner of the
voice could only be described as flamboyant.  Bouffant, bleached blonde hair,
bleached teeth, fake nails, fake tan and fake boobs, if Travis didn’t miss his
guess.  She wore leopard print leggings that looked as if a shoehorn might be needed
to get her into them.  A slinky, clingy black top, cut dangerously low,
displayed her tiny waist and abundant curves.  The look on her face when she
spotted Travis tempted him to look down and make sure all his clothes were
still in place and buttoned securely; he now understood exactly what women
meant when they said a man undressed her with his eyes.

“Hullo,” the
woman purred.  “Who’s this?”

“Satin, this is
my neighbor, Travis Cooper,” Brooke said, speaking rapidly.  “He can’t stay. 
Thanks for the ride, Travis.”

Brooke was all
but pushing Travis out the front door when the other woman laid a hand on his
forearm.  She pulled him further into the room.  Travis was beginning to worry
that Brooke was going to hyperventilate when a man strolled into the room.

“What kinda
place is this, Satin?” he asked petulantly.  “There’s not even any booze
anywhere!”

“Yeah, she’s a
real goody two-shoes,” Brooke’s mother drawled.  “Blaze, this is my daughter,
Bunny Valentine.  Bunny, this is my…friend, Blaze.”

Blaze was easily
only half Satin’s age.  His dark hair hung in artfully messy waves around his
face, falling to just below his shoulders.  His black jeans were so tight they
made Travis want to cringe and tug at his own jeans.  Blaze’s black silk shirt
was unbuttoned nearly to his navel, displaying a lean, muscled chest, tanned
golden, and waxed completely free of hair.  His hazel eyes roved up and down
Brooke’s form, then he seemed to dismiss her.

“Satin, what are
you doing here?” Brooke asked.  “And how did you get in?”

“Well, when I
didn’t get my check, I thought I’d just come pick it up,” Satin answered
blithely.  “And sorry about the window.  I didn’t know where you kept a spare
key, so we kinda had to break in.”  She winked as if it were a great joke.  “Your
insurance oughta cover it, though.”  She laughed.  “Just tell ‘em somebody
broke in!  That’s true!”

“Satin, I mailed
you a check last week,” Brooke said tiredly.

“Well, I didn’t
get it!”

Something was
off about the woman’s behavior, Travis thought.  When she talked about this
mysterious check, her eyes didn’t quite meet her daughter’s gaze.  She seemed
nervous about something, like a child who wasn’t being completely truthful. 
Travis stood behind Brooke, arms folded across his broad chest.

“Well…I’ll have
to go to the credit union,” Brooke sighed.

“Why can’t you
just write me a new check?” Satin whined.  “We got places to go, me and Blaze! 
We could use that money!”

“I can’t just
write you a –“  Suddenly Brooke stopped speaking.  She turned to Travis.  “Do
you have my phone with you?  And that message you took for me?  The recorded
one?”

Travis pulled
her cell phone from the pocket of his jeans, saying, “I wrote the name and
number down.  It’s on the notepad there on the coffee table.”

Brooke picked up
the notepad and limped to the kitchen.  Travis stood awkwardly in the living
room with Satin and Blaze.  What a pair they were!  Satin continued to eye
Travis with a hungry gaze, ignoring the dark frown on Blaze’s face.  Travis
tried to ignore her ogling, while at the same time sidling closer to the
kitchen so he could hear Brooke.

“Yes, this is
Brooke Valentine,” she was saying.  “I had a message to call…oh, of course.” 
She rattled off a number, then listened.  She gasped.  “That’s not possible! 
No, no, I’m telling you – what?  Two-
thousand
?  No, no, I need to call
you back.  Thank you.”  There was a brief pause and Brooke reappeared in the
doorway, her face disturbingly pale.  “Satin, what have you done?”

“I don’t know
what you’re talking about, I’m sure!” Satin said defensively.

“Then you’re
saying you
didn’t
receive the check I sent you for two hundred dollars? 
And you’re saying you
didn’t
alter it and cash it for two
thousand
dollars?”  Brooke’s breathing was ragged.  “Two thousand dollars I don’t have!”

“Oh, come on,
Bunny!” her mother said scornfully.  “You work two jobs!  I’d think you’d be a
little more willing to help your mother out occasionally.”

“I can’t believe
you did this to me!” Brooke said.  Travis could tell she was on the verge of
tears.  “My account is now overdrawn by over sixteen-hundred dollars, Satin!  I
– I can’t replace that kind of money!  I don’t even think I have
one
job
right now, let alone two!”

“I don’t have to
sit here and be treated like this!” Satin snapped.

Coming to her
feet she tottered on stiletto heels to the front door.  As she brushed past her
daughter, Brooke stumbled slightly; Travis threw an arm around her waist and
steadied her against his solid frame.  Satin paused, her eyes roaming over
Travis once again; she cast a mocking glance at Brooke.

“What a waste!”
she muttered.  She glanced over her shoulder.  “Come on, Blaze!  I think we’ve
tapped this well dry for now.”

“I’ll move my
truck,” Travis said, his deep voice cutting across Blaze’s whine.

Chapter
5

When Travis
returned to Brooke’s house, he found her slumped on the sofa, her injured leg
stretched out before her.  One forearm rested across her eyes, the other hand
pressed against her abdomen as if her stomach hurt.  Travis shifted from one
foot to the other uncertainly.

“I’m fine,”
Brooke said tonelessly.  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but you
can go now.”

“Are you sure?”
Travis asked.

“Positive,” she
said.  “I think I’ll take a shower and lie down.”

“Okay.”  Travis
didn’t move for a moment.  “Listen, I’ll come back later and put something over
this window.  And I put my number in your cell phone.  Call me if you need
anything, okay?”

“Sure.  Thanks
again.”

Feeling as if
he’d been dismissed, Travis backed out of her door and closed it behind him. 
Glass crunched underfoot as he left the porch.  As he walked away, Travis knew
without a doubt that Brooke Valentine wouldn’t call him – or anyone – for help
even if her house were on fire.  Some little thought kept niggling at the back
of Travis’ mind; he thought there was something he should remember, but it
wouldn’t come to him.  Sighing, he went into his own house.  He sat down in his
office and pondered his neighbor.

What a mess that
woman’s life was!  Travis Cooper’s life was about as disciplined and organized
as a man’s life could be; as a result, he found it hard to understand how
someone could let their life get so out of control.  Travis hadn’t found it
necessary to work two jobs since his summers in high school and college. 
Immediately after college, he’d joined the army; now, after three tours in the Middle East, he was well on his way to establishing his new security business as a leader
in the field.  He employed fellow soldiers, former Navy SEALs, Marines and
airmen.  Each of his employees was as disciplined as Travis was.

So how did a
young woman, at the age of twenty-four, find herself in such debt that the
influx of money from the sale of his lot didn’t make a dent?  And why was she
sending money to her mother?  Travis couldn’t believe a mother would commit
fraud against her own daughter, altering a check from two-hundred dollars to
two-thousand.  So now, Brooke was probably sitting over there in her house,
wondering how she was going to come up with the money to cover that check,
unless she could prove she hadn’t written it.  She was probably sitting over
there in her house with no electricity….

Suddenly, Travis
realized what had been bothering him.  Electricity.  Brooke’s electricity was
off.  Travis glanced out the window.  From his office, he had a clear view of
Brooke’s house; it was dark in the deepening twilight.  So what was she doing? 
It was chilly already, and as the night wore on, the temperature would only
drop further; did she have gas heat?  Travis doubted it as his own house was
all electric; there were no gas lines on the property.  Determinedly, Travis
rose and headed over to Brooke’s house.

Brooke, having
dozed off on her sofa, nearly fell in the floor at the sound of someone
pounding on her front door.  She rose slowly, wondering if Satin and her latest
boy toy had returned.  Well, when they figured out she still had no electricity
they wouldn’t stick around.  The banging on the door continued as Brooke
hobbled toward it.

“Brooke!” Travis
Cooper’s deep voice sounded from her porch.  “Brooke, are you all right in
there?”

“Just a minute!”
she yelled.  “I’m coming, okay?”

Brooke yanked
open the door and frowned up at her neighbor.  He returned her glare, his gaze
taking in her hair, still wet from her shower, her puffy face and red-rimmed
eyes and her uncontrollable shivering.

“You don’t have
electricity,” Travis said accusingly.

“Wow,” Brooke
said sarcastically.  “Good looks
and
brains.”

“What are you
doing?” he demanded.

“I was sleeping
until you woke me up.”

“Brooke –“ 
Travis stopped and took a deep breath.  This woman was maddening.  “Brooke, do
you have somewhere you can go?  A friend’s house?  A hotel or something? 
Anywhere you can stay until your electricity’s back on?”

“I’m fine right
where I am,” she said stubbornly.

“You are driving
me crazy!” he snapped.

“I am not your
problem!” Brooke ground out between clenched teeth.  Travis wasn’t sure if she
clenched them out of anger or to keep them from chattering.  “I’ll figure
something out about the electricity tomorrow.  And I have plenty of blankets
for tonight.  If I get too cold, I’ll build a fire in the fireplace.  Happy?”

“What will you
eat?” Travis persisted.  “And did you take a cold shower?”

“I have peanut
butter, and I
like
cold showers!”

“That’s it!”
Travis growled.  “You’re coming to my house.”

“I am not!”

“You either come
willingly,” he said.  “Or I throw you over my shoulder and carry you kicking
and screaming.  The choice is yours, Miss Valentine.”

Brooke stared up
at Travis.  He could tell she was trying to determine if he was serious.  He
could also tell when she figured out he was; her shoulders seemed to slump a
little.  Never in his life had Travis met anyone more stubbornly independent;
Brooke wasn’t only reluctant to
ask
for help, she apparently didn’t want
to accept help when it was offered.

“Why don’t you
go get whatever you need for the night, hmm?”

“All right,” she
said quietly.

Brooke turned
and limped away.  Travis stood in the middle of her living room waiting for
her.  She returned shortly carrying a duffel bag; Travis took the bag from
her.  Brooke bristled slightly, then accepted the arm Travis offered.  He
looked down at her.