Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy 3)

She could weather any storm with him. It was only when he was gone that her fears got the better of her.

“You know what?” She rubbed her cheek lazily against his shoulder, like a cat seeking attention.

“No. What?” Using the arm under her neck, he curled it to encompass her into his warmth.

“It might have taken you a while, but you do make a great friend.”

21

The sound of the bedroom door opening had him tightening his arm around Jessie.

The morning sun was just coming through the white sheer curtain, so he was able to see who was standing in the doorway.

Dustin’s eyes met Holt’s. Neither said anything before Holt backed out, shutting the door silently behind him.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake Jessie, he pulled himself out from her hold. Sitting sideways on the bed, he then put his boots on and grabbed the hat that he had thrown on the chair before sitting down on it with Jessie.

He quietly left the bedroom, going to the small kitchen, where Holt was making coffee.

Holt was a year older than Tate. His craggy-lined face showed the toll Jessie’s kidnapping was taking on him.

Sitting down on one of the stools at the counter, he put his hat next to the other one. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Holt didn’t turn around as he took two cups out of a cabinet beside the stove. “They identified the body. It’s Miranda Scott.”

“Fuck. Her husband didn’t notice she was missing?”

He had gone out with Miranda before he dropped out of school. She married her high school sweetheart, Jackson, right after they graduated together.

“I’m sure Knox will be asking Jackson that same question when he gets the report from Frankfort,” Holt said, setting a cup of coffee down in front of Dustin.

“He’s going to be pissed you found out before him.”

Holt looked at him from over his cup. “You going to tell?”

“No.”

“Then there’s not going to be anything for him to get pissed over.”

“I’m surprised you’re not going to make sure you don’t get to Jackson first.”

“I don’t want to be the one to tell him that his wife is dead. I’ll give Knox time to notify him.”

“Then …?”

“Then Jackson and I are going to have us a little talk.”

Dustin didn’t envy Jackson. Holt wasn’t a man to lie to get away with it. The only reason that the Porter and the Hayeses hadn’t escalated to physical violence after their fathers had started the feud was because each had known there wouldn’t be a winner left breathing.

Finishing his coffee, Dustin stood up.

“You want me to text you when I’m done talking to him?”

Dustin shook his head, putting his hat on. “No thanks. I better be going. I have an appointment at eight.”

Dustin didn’t expect to get off scot-free about spending the night with Jessie, and Holt didn’t disappoint.

“If you hurt her again, I’m going to do to you what I’m going to do to the man who kidnapped Jessie seem like child’s play.”

Dustin didn’t flinch away from Jessie’s brother’s hard stare. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect anything less. G’day, Holt.”

Holt gave him a polite nod back, showing he wouldn’t be nice to give him another warning. “G’day, Dustin.”

Dustin smoothed down the suit jacket he had found on the sales rack at Harvey’s Suits. The business was one of the first ones in Treepoint, in the same lackluster brick building that saw less and less customers entering its door each year.

Everett had given him a deal on the suit for doing his accounting, throwing an alteration in for advising him on his money. The old man was the grandson of the original owner and was barely making ends meet, so Dustin had carefully chosen something for him to invest in with what money he had.

Staring at the fancy print on the door, Dustin opened it and went inside, putting on a charming smile when he saw the office was empty.

“Morning, beautiful.”

The woman behind the large, expensive desk preened when she saw him. “Good morning, handsome.” She gave him a beaming smile that Dustin knew she had paid for after working three months as a receptionist at his competition’s accounting firm.

He hooked a leg over the corner of Shelly’s desk, giving her a flirtatious wink. “Thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to do lunch this afternoon?”

Shelly turned in her chair to lay a bold hand on his upper thigh. “Why didn’t you just text me?”

Dustin leaned forward, using his knuckles to brush the generous cleavage that she was showing above the seductively unbuttoned black blouse. “Because I only have time for lunch, not the two hours it will take to meet you at the hotel.”

Her lush, lipstick-stained red lips pouted up at him. “We could meet for thirty minutes to take the edge off, then finish tonight,” she suggested, moving her talented fingers higher toward his dick.