For You by Kristen Ashley

Author:Kristen Ashley [Ashley, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
Amazon: B004S81POK
Goodreads: 10813480
Publisher: Kristen Ashley
Published: 2011-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Cheryl

The door bell jolted Colt awake. He looked to the clock, saw it was five to seven and slid out from under the dead weight of Feb that was pressed to his side.

Yanking on his jeans, t-shirt and grabbing his gun, he hit the hall then the living room and looked out the peephole to see Chip Judd standing on his front step.

He’d unlocked the door when Jack hit the room, his hair a mess, his jeans on, his chest bare and his hand curled around the butt of his revolver.

“It’s Chip, Jack. It’s cool, I called him.”

“Chip?” Jack asked.

“Go back to bed, it’s all good.”

Jack studied him with sleepy intensity for several seconds before he spoke.

“Don’t know what’s good, you callin’ the only boy in town who installs security systems and him bein’ here first thing in the mornin’,” Jack stated the obvious on a grumble then headed back down the hall, muttering, “fuck.”

Colt turned back to the door and opened it, nodding to Chip and stepping aside for him to enter but his eyes scanned the neighborhood. Chip’s van was parked on the street, no Audi in sight, no other movement. Street was waking up, half an hour it’d be alive, people heading to work. An hour after that, it would be napping again.

He closed the door, locked it and turned to Chip. Chip had his eyes on the lock Colt turned and then they came to Colt.

“You’re standin’ there holdin’ a gun, big man, and you still turn the lock?”

“Man out there’s hacking up people with a hatchet, he threatened me direct and Feb could turn his eye to her. Not leavin’ the door open to that possibility, Chip.”

Chip’s face had drained to the color of his hair, which was nearly as white as an albino, before he muttered, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“Damn straight, now what can you do for me?” Colt asked.

Chip recovered his composure, dipped his head to the door and said, “First thing, get you a decent deadbolt. My experience? Two kinds of cops. Those with families who got so many damned locks their house is like Fort Knox and their wives got scoliosis from carryin’ around their keyring. Those without who don’t spend enough time home to give a crap. You’re obviously Cop Type Two. Gotta tell you Colt, that lock’s a piece of shit.”

Colt couldn’t argue. His lock wasn’t near as bad as Feb’s but it was still a piece of shit.

“Put it in and a chain, all the doors. There’s one at the side, one at the back. I’ll need five sets of keys,” Colt told him, Chip nodded and Colt went on. “What else?”

“We talkin’ the basic model, the basic deluxe or the full-on deluxe?” Chip asked.

Security systems cost some cake, Colt knew, and this would be a hit. It was only six months ago he finished the last payment on Melanie’s kitchen. Other than that he studiously kept out of debt and saved as much as he could so when he quit the department his life could be a fair bit sweeter than a cop’s pension would buy him.

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