“So she wasn’t part of your plan?”
Snorting, Crosby said, “Definitely not.”
“That put you in a tight spot, since you knew they’d be here today.”
Crosby nodded. He had good street informants. Winton’s store had been targeted more than once, and Crosby had planned to put an end to the harassment. Things had gone according to plan...
Except that his initial plans hadn’t factored in Madison being around. Once he’d realized she was following him, he hadn’t had time to reconfigure things. Losing her would have been tough, too, with the roads so slick, some of them impassable. He’d had no way for tricky driving or fast turns.
Delaying his arrival to Winton’s store could have put Winton and Owen in danger. He’d been caught in an untenable position—not the first time when dealing with McKenzies.
Emerging from the back room with Owen, Madison returned to mopping the floors, now with fresh water. “Might need to go over them one more time, so they won’t be sticky.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Winton said. “With the weather worsening, there’s no point in us being open anyway.”
Owen hefted the damaged case of beer and carried it into the back.
Winton began cleaning up the spilled chip display.
“I’m glad to help,” Madison insisted, using the wringer on the bucket. “We’ll have it all tidied up in no time.”
“You,” Crosby said, feeling very divided, “have some explaining to do.”
She smiled and, proving she’d been listening, said, “You were right, you know. If you’d told me not to come in, it would have only sharpened my curiosity.”
Winton laughed. “I’m sure Crosby could have handled it on his own, but I admit I enjoyed seeing you in action. Are you in law enforcement?”
Her gaze slanted over to Winton. “Have you ever seen a cop fight the way I do?”
“Only Crosby.”
Her slim eyebrows climbed high. “Is that so?”
Always ready to sing his praises, Winton paused in his cleanup. “Before he was even Owen’s age, Crosby was training. He’s always been a fitness buff. Every coach at the high school tried to talk him into playing sports, but he was never interested. Said team sports weren’t his thing.”
“Dad says he’s mostly a loner,” Owen added.
“Or at least he was before—”
“Winton,” Crosby warned. There weren’t many things he could tell Madison that she didn’t already know. She’d made no secret of researching him, using methods to open files that even cops couldn’t easily access. What she didn’t know she’d eventually find out, whether he liked it or not.
Winton shot him a look of apology—one that Madison didn’t miss.
What concerned Crosby most at the moment was how Winton would tell things, with all the nuances and added affection of a father.
Winton and Owen fell silent.
Madison didn’t. She returned the mop to the bucket, then folded her arms on the counter—a pose that had her breasts thrusting forward and her backside sticking out in an impossible-to-ignore way.
Deliberate, he was sure. Everything she did or said had a purpose. He’d never known a woman who was so entirely badass, a research whiz who could uncover anything, a fighter capable of leveling a grown man with ease, who also flaunted her sexiness.
It was an enticing mix, and damn it, he wasn’t immune.
“I already knew he was a fitness buff,” she said, using a casual tone likely meant to regain Winton’s trust. “I mean, look at him.”
“He’s rock-solid,” Winton agreed.
She turned her head to see Crosby, her glittering hazel eyes far too compelling. “He’s into fashion, too. Looks like a cover model, don’t you think?”
Hooting, Owen completely relaxed again. “That’s exactly what Mrs. Cline says. She always shops on Monday at six so she can time her visits with Crosby’s.”
“Mrs. Cline?” Madison asked, her interest no longer playful.
Winton patted her hand. “Pam is nearing seventy and just likes to flirt.”
“Ah.” Grinning again, Madison asked Crosby, “Have to deal with a lot of flirting, do you?”
Since it was none of her business, Crosby declined to answer. “You should get going while you still can. The roads are getting worse by the minute.”
Her smile curled even more. “Not without you. In fact, I’m convinced your car won’t even make it away from the curb.”
Crosby opened his mouth, but again, Owen beat him to it. “He has an SUV, but Silver probably—”
Winton interrupted his son with, “Go bundle up so you can help Madison clear her ride.”
Once Owen left the room, Madison took a turn eyeing each of them before straightening to face forward. With her penetrating gaze locked on Crosby, she folded her arms under her breasts. “Why is everyone trying to get rid of me?”
Crosby didn’t hesitate. “We have private things to discuss that don’t concern you.” He saw one scenario after another flit over her features as she determined how to proceed. So damned tenacious. “Enough, Madison. It’s time for you to go before Winton, Owen and I get stranded here.”
Concerned, she turned to Winton. “Do you have far to travel in this mess?”
“Um...” Shifting, looking guilty as hell, Winton muttered, “No.”
Damn, Winton was bad at lying, even lies of omission.
He knew the second Madison looked up that her quick mind had already put too many things together.
Golden eyes slanted in his direction with accusation. “Let me guess. They live upstairs?”
Winton cleared his throat. “I’ll go see what’s keeping Owen.” He literally fled the shop front.
Knowing he couldn’t do the same, Crosby mimicked her stance, arms crossed and expression arrogant. “Contrary to what you believe, some of my business is still private.” It was a miracle she hadn’t uncovered every bit of his life yet—including the things he’d worked so hard to hide.
To his surprise, she retrenched with a sigh, her hands falling to her sides, her expression subdued. “I’ve been too pushy.”
That pretty much described her, always.
Two tentative steps brought her closer to him, and with her height she nearly looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine.”