The Bachelor (Chandler Brothers 1)

He focused on the window display and his mouth opened wide. Were those crocheted panties on the amazingly lifelike mannequin? In the conservative town of Yorkshire Falls? He couldn’t have been more astonished. He felt a distinct rush of arousal when he realized that raven-haired mannequin bore an uncanny resemblance to Charlotte. Suddenly realizing he looked like perv leering at women’s lingerie, he stepped back. God, he hoped to hell no one had been watching, or he’d never live down the embarrassment.

Roman took another step back and bumped against something hard. He turned around to find Rick, arms folded across his chest, grinning at him. “See something you like?”

“You’re a laugh riot,” Roman muttered.

“I figured you were revisiting your youth.”

Roman couldn’t mistake Rick’s meaning. Leave it to his middle sibling to remember Roman’s high school prank, done back when his idea of fun had been a panty raid at a friend’s house, where the girls were having a slumber party. Not only had it been his idea, but he’d been so damn proud he’d hung a pair from his rearview mirror for about twenty-four hours. Until his mother had found them and given him a blistering lecture and punishment he’d never forget.

Raina Chandler had a unique way of curing her sons’ most incorrigible habits. After a summer of rinsing his boxers and hanging them to dry in front of the house, he’d never subject anyone to that same humiliation again.

With any luck, the rest of the town had long forgotten. “I can’t believe a shop like this is making it here,” he said, changing the subject.

“It is. And Mom’s on a crusade to get the older women in here too, and she’s one of the most loyal customers.”

“Mom wears these panties?”

The brothers shook their heads at the same time, neither wanting his imagination to travel down that path. “How is Mom?”

“Hard to tell. She sounded winded when I called, like she’d been running, which is impossible. So I’m heading on over to check myself.”

Roman exhaled hard. “I’ve got my cell phone. Call me if you need me.”

Rick nodded. “Will do.” He then walked along the street by the store, turned right at the corner leading to the apartments above, and returned soon after.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked, recognizing a walk-by when he saw one. His brother was patrolling the area and Roman wanted to know why.

Rick shrugged. “Yorkshire Falls had a couple of break-ins over the weekend.”

Roman’s reporter’s instincts kicked in. “What was stolen?”

A smile Roman could only describe as wicked settled on his brother’s mouth. “If I weren’t with you myself at the time of both break-ins, you’d be my only suspect. But I’ve got squat.”

“Panties?” Roman shifted his gaze from his brother to the assortment in the window, then back again. “You’re telling me some idiot broke into a house and stole women’s underwear?”

Rick nodded. “I’d have filled you and Chase in over dinner but Norman’s was too crowded to talk privately. It seems the good people of Yorkshire Falls have an actual crime spree on their hands.” Rick filled Roman in on the details of the thefts. It turned out that all of the stolen panties had been purchased at the store they were standing in front of now.

Roman glanced at the window once more. The panties in question were there for the world to see. Who owned this place? The Charlotte he’d known might not have been brazen enough to open this shop, but the one he’d seen dressed in bright colors and who’d laid down that challenge, well, she was another woman entirely.

“Are you going to tell me who owns this place?” he asked Rick.

A gleam danced in his brother’s eyes and Roman’s instincts went on high alert, confirming what he’d already suspected. When Rick remained silent, a knowing look on his face, Roman did the obvious. He took a step back and glanced up at the awning.

A burgundy overhang with hot pink trim and bold calligraphy stared back at him. CHARLOTTE’S ATTIC—HIDDEN TREASURES FOR THE BODY, HEART, AND SOUL.

“Hot damn.” Apparently he’d been too quick to discount the possibility. Charlotte, Roman’s Charlotte, owned this sensual, erotic shop.

Because she was a sensual, erotic woman, as she’d proven to him in Norman’s back hall. He’d proven something to himself as well. He was a man with healthy sexual appetites, and it had been too long since he’d indulged those.

“Don’t you have someplace to be?” Rick asked.

Roman ignored his brother’s laugh, slapped Rick on the back, and headed off to town hall.

Twenty minutes later, Roman was overwhelmed by complete and utter boredom. The things he did for family, he thought and yawned as he waited for the architectural review portion of the evening to end. Though he could barely concentrate, he took notes on his laptop anyway.

“Next up. Petition for variance to put dog door in the front entrance of 311 Sullivan Street, in the Sullivan Subdivision. Neighbors complain said door will destroy uniformity and beauty of subdivision—”