His Moment to Steal: In the Line of Duty, Book 4

  Once a thief, always a thief…and he’s just walked away with her heart.

  In the Line of Duty, Book 4

  Ex-military security specialist Luke Phillips would like nothing more than to walk away from his latest job, especially when he realizes the upscale market owner is the daughter of the man responsible for his year spent in juvie.

  Except he promised the kids at the community center new and updated equipment. He has no choice but to keep to himself and try not to get mixed up with Emery Vincent. No matter how sweet and sexy she is.

  One look at Luke starts Emery’s heart fluttering—along with other specific body parts. But she knows better than to act on those urges with a bad boy who looks at her like he’s been living off rations and she’s the market’s hot lunch special.

  But when he rescues her and bandages up her scuffed knee, the heat between them explodes. While a future between them is impossible, hot, sweaty sex is guaranteed—at least until the job is done. Unless Luke can let go of the past and risk it all for love.

  Warning: This book contains a smoking-hot ex-convict from the wrong side of the tracks, and a silver-spoon lady who gets oh, so much more than she bargained for when she hires him for a job.

  His Moment to Steal

  Cathryn Fox

  Dedication

  To the members of Foxy Fiction, street team extraordinaire. You guys rock!

  Chapter One

  Jesus, those had to be the biggest melons he’d ever set eyes on.

  Security expert Luke Phillips swallowed down the saliva pooling on his tongue and stared at the gorgeous woman coming his way. With his mouth watering for a taste of those juicy, oversized melons, his gaze traveled upward to meet with a set of big blue eyes that held a measure of panic.

  “Shit,” he mumbled, and discarded his cart to help. It wasn’t like he’d actually planned on purchasing any of the groceries inside, anyway. No, like any good thief, he was simply pretending to be a customer when all the while he was actually scoping out the place. Seconds before the woman’s armload of honeydews went crashing to the floor, Luke quickly closed the distance between them and reached out to help her.

  “Here, let me lighten your load.” His cock twitched. Okay, wrong choice of words…

  She stopped dead in her tracks, her dark lashes blinking rapidly in confusion as she stared up at him. His head came back with a start, surprised by her reaction. What, had she never been offered help before?

  “It’s okay, I got it.” She arched her back as she awkwardly shifted the gigantic fruits before they fell and splattered on the polished tile floor.

  Ignoring her protest, he grabbed three melons, leaving her with two, and glanced at the nametag pinned to her apron. Emery. Different, but pretty. Like her.

  “Now what kind of guy would I be if I just stood here watching you juggle your melons?” He tossed her his best flirtatious grin trying to make light of the situation and put a smile on her face.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, but instead of playing along, she gestured with a nod to the table set up at the end of the grocery aisle. Tough crowd. “You can put them there. But just so you know, I did have everything under control.” She jutted her chin out a little bit, and Luke’s grin widened as she tried to hold her own against him.

  “Are you always this stubborn?” He took in the curves her work apron did little to hide. Stubborn, yet sexy. Damned if she wasn’t his kind of girl.

  She shook her head and loose blonde curls flared around her shoulders. He breathed in the floral fragrance of her shampoo, pulling it deep into his lungs as it overshadowed the scent of ripe honeydew.

  “I’m not… I just… Look, I’m just in a hurry, that’s all.” She placed the melons on the table, adjusted the sale sign, then glanced at her watch. “I have to be somewhere in ten minutes.”

  He took in the worry in her eyes and the pink tinge on her cheeks before he stole a peek at his own watch. At twelve noon he too had to be somewhere. Not that he had far to go. No, his meeting was with the owner of the upscale market smack dab in the middle of Austin’s trendiest neighborhood—a market he never, ever thought he’d step foot in again. If it weren’t for the youth who hung out at Sheffield Community Center, he’d have stayed as far away from the place as possible. But he’d promised the kids new equipment and since he never went back on his word, he had no choice but to take the job. That, and the owner was now a woman, which had him thinking Taylor’s Market had changed hands in the last decade. Yeah, he was pretty certain the man who fought to put the “kid from the wrong side of the tracks” in juvenile detention—and won—had retired and was long gone from the place.

  “I’m no efficiency expert, but more hands make lighter work.” He followed her back to the pile of melons she was moving, and assuming she had to rush off to some appointment on her lunch break, he added, “Shouldn’t you get one of the other staff members to help if you have to be out of here in ten?”

  Something troubled passed over her pretty eyes as she grabbed another armload and shifted them in the crook of her elbow. She pinched her lips tight, then said, “We’re short staffed.”

  Of course they were, which was probably why the owner, Mrs. Vincent, had called his company looking for a security expert in the first place. Overworked staff had a negative impact on employee health, leading to shortages due to stress-related illnesses. It also had a negative impact on the business itself. With no one watching the store, a thief could easily rob Taylor’s Market blind—and likely had—considering they were looking for his services.

  Luke had come to the market early to get a feel for their security, and as he stole another glance around, he could see why they needed his help. The place was packed with customers, and there were only three employees on the floor: Emery working produce, a young man behind the deli counter, and one cashier working the front register. Unfortunately, there was no management to be found. Not that Luke thought management would ever help a lowly employee. God forbid anyone in the upper echelons get their hands dirty.

  Or give second chances…

  But they should at least be watching the store and monitoring the place for theft.

  He helped her carry another armload, finishing off the stack, and took note of a young boy around fourteen years old combing the aisles. From the way his T-shirt jutted out from his baggy jeans, it was easy to tell the kid had a pocketful of stolen goods. Luke exhaled slowly, memories of his own youth bombarding him as he kept watchful eyes on the little delinquent. The kid glanced at him, made eye contact, then moved to the next aisle.

  Even though Luke wasn’t officially on the job yet, he placed the last of the melons on the display table, knowing he had to do something. Stepping into soldier mode he excused himself and walked to the front of the store. He had every intention of catching up with her later to get her number.

  He stood by the door and once again took in all the holes in the store’s security system as he waited for the kid to exit. Even though it was nearing his appointment time, he wanted to deal with the boy first. At least if he was the one doling out the punishment the kid stood half a chance. Painful past experiences had taught him that the rich lived by their own rules and were biased against those outside their elite circle.

  When he saw the boy round an aisle and sidestep the long line at the cash register, Luke picked up a box of specialty cookies and pretended to study the ingredients, giving the boy a chance to escape. For his plan to work, he needed to catch the kid red-handed, outside the store.

  The boy slipped out the door. Luke put the box down and followed. He walked behind him for a few seconds, moisture breakin
g out on his forehead as the warm sunshine heated the sidewalk and radiated upward.

  He closed the gap, and when he was within arm’s reach he said, “Hey.”

  The boy spun around, and his eyes went wide with recognition as Luke glared at him. “What the fuck do you want, man?”

  Nice…

  Luke gestured with a nod. “How about everything in your pockets.”

  “Shit.” The kid cursed and turned to run. Since Luke had anticipated the boy’s next move he was already one step ahead of him and had him by the scruff before he could round the corner and bolt.

  Luke turned him around and nudged him toward the market, hoping to find a quiet place inside. “How about we have a little talk?”

  “How about you go fuck yourself.”

  “That’s a nice mouth you’ve got there,” Luke said. “Do you kiss your mother good night with it?”

  “I kiss lots of girls with it.” He smirked and struggled against Luke’s grip, but this wasn’t Luke’s first rodeo. In fact, a little over a decade ago, many of his friends had stood where the boy was right now—and Luke had spent three years in juvenile detention because of it.

  Luke practically dragged him inside and when he found a handful of customers staring at him, he searched for Emery. The commotion must have caught her attention. She rushed from the back of the store and when she saw him with the struggling boy, her eyes went wide.

  “Is there an office around here I can use for a minute?” Luke asked.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is this kid has a pocket full of goods.”

  “Oh, I didn’t…” When she pushed her curls from her face, Luke noticed a worried frown creasing her forehead. She pointed toward the back. “I was busy. I didn’t see.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve got it under control,” Luke explained, not wanting her to think the blame was hers. It was management’s job to train the staff and put theft prevention measures in place.

  “Are you a cop?” she asked.

  “Something like that.” The kid elbowed Luke in the gut and Luke tensed. “About that room,” he said between gritted teeth.

  She nodded and he followed her to the back of the store. She pulled a ring full of keys from her pocket and unlocked the door with shaky fingers. Luke stepped past her and she followed him. Once inside the small office, Luke shoved the kid into a chair and leaned against the desk, taking an authoritative, high-powered position over him, a tactic he’d learned in the army. Emery stood by the door, looking completely unsure of herself—of Luke—and the situation she’d suddenly found herself in. Luke could have told her to leave, but he needed her there for two reasons. One, she would be a witness to what he was about to do, and two, he was a selfish prick and liked being around her. And of course, he couldn’t forget that he’d yet to get her number.

  “What’s your name?” Luke asked the boy, lowering his voice slightly.

  “Captain America,” the kid responded with a smirk.

  Luke let that statement stand for a while as he assessed the boy. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t as tough as he wanted Luke to think he was. He took in his ratty shirt, jeans that were two sizes too big, and sneakers that had seen better days. As the puzzle known as Captain America clicked together, Luke felt his heart pinch, but he kept his face hard, his voice deep.

  “So what are you, some kind of street thug?”

  The kid slouched in his chair, his nonchalant body language belying the worry backlighting his dark eyes. As a former military security specialist, Luke knew all about reading people, and despite trying to appear unfazed, the kid was scared shitless. Which meant Luke had him right where he wanted him. If the kid really was a badass, there was no way Luke could get him to agree to the terms he was about to lay out.

  Captain American folded his arms—a protective measure to shield himself, and a sure sign of his anxiety. “Yeah, that’s what I am,” he answered. “A street thug with superpowers.”

  Luke gave him his best hard-assed glare and stared at him for longer than was comfortable. Eventually the boy shifted, straightening slightly in his seat. Good. At least somewhere deep inside he still held a degree of respect for authority and wasn’t a lost cause.

  Luke met his gaze unflinchingly. “Did someone put you up to this?”

  After a long moment, the boy tore his gaze away and stared at his sneakers, ending the uncomfortable stare down. “Here, just take the stuff.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of red licorice and tossed them onto the desk.

  “You don’t seem like a stupid kid.” Luke picked up the candy and slapped it against his palm. Behind the boy’s nervousness he had a solid determination about him, an intelligence that ran deep. “In fact, I’d say you’re pretty smart, which makes me wonder why you’re willing to ruin your life for two pieces of licorice.”

  “I’m not… I didn’t… I don’t…” He pushed agitated fingers through dark, shoulder-length hair that looked like it hadn’t been shampooed in weeks.

  “This can go down one of two ways,” Luke began. “I call in backup and you end up in juvie for stealing…” He paused to give the kid a moment to chew on that, even though he had no intention of ever calling the cops.

  “Fuck,” the boy mumbled, his voice cracking slightly. “Look, the licorice wasn’t even for me.”

  “So someone did put you up to this.”

  He stared at the floor, and fisted his hair. “It’s for my little brother, okay? He likes licorice.”

  “Your little brother?”

  “Yeah, he’s only three and doesn’t get…” He stopped talking, like he didn’t want to give away too much.

  “What else do you have in your pockets?” The boy hesitated, and Luke reached for the phone.

  “Okay, fine.” He pulled out a tube of deli meats and slapped it on the table.

  Luke picked up the package and exchanged a look with Emery. Troubled eyes full of mixed emotions stared back, a clear sign that she knew what was going on. Taylor’s Market might have been in Austin’s trendiest neighborhood, but just a few blocks away things went south fast. Luke knew firsthand what it was like to live in the city’s poverty district, where food and candy were hard to come by.

  “Is this for your brother too?” he asked, keeping his face hard. A kid like Captain America here would never want his pity.

  “Yeah.” He emptied his other pocket and placed a couple of crusty rolls on the desk. “So what’s the other way?”

  “The other way?” Luke asked.

  “You said this could go down one of two ways.”

  “The other way is you spend every weekend this summer at the community center out in Sheffield.”

  “Fuck. Isn’t that where old people hang out?”

  Old people, young people, therapy dogs. Luke picked the phone up.

  “Don’t. I’ll do it,” the boy said. Luke continued to glare at him, waiting for a stronger reaction. The boy cursed under his breath, held his hands up, palms out. “I’ll do it, okay. Just put the damn phone down.”

  Luke took his hand off the receiver. “Get up, kid.”

  The boy stood. “It’s Trent, and I’m not a kid.”

  “Okay, Trent,” he began, giving him that much, despite the fact that he was a kid—one who not only needed, but was craving guidance in the worst way. “Where do you live?”

  He narrowed suspicious eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to walk you home so I’ll know where to find you if you don’t show up on Saturday.”

  “Fine,” he mumbled.

  After he gave the address, Luke nudged him toward the door, but didn’t miss Emery jotting the address down on a whiteboard hung near the desk. For a moment he thought she might report him, but he’d seen the look in her eyes. She felt for the kid every bit as much as Luke did. “And don’t think you’re getting off easy. Juvie might look like a day in the park after a weekend at the center.”

  He moved to
the door and the sweet floral scent of Emery hit him as she stood there nibbling her bottom lip, looking at him with an equal mixture of worry and relief. “Listen, will you tell the owner that I’ll be late for my appointment?”

  As if a light bulb had just gone off, her big eyes went wide. She shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her shoulders. “You’re…you’re Mr. Phillips…from…” Her words fell off and she finished with, “I should have known.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and took a moment to look at her. She really was gorgeous, but there was something in her eyes that told him she wore the weight of the world on her shoulders. Damned if he didn’t want to help lighten that load too.

  “Yeah. I’m Luke Phillips, from Phillips Security.” He gave her a suggestive smile, along with a teasing wink, determined to loosen her up and put a smile on that lush mouth of hers. He pitched his voice low, for her ears only and said, “Which means I’ll be hanging out here for the next few weeks and while I’m here, you’ll never again have to juggle your melons alone.”

  Emery Vincent tried to quiet her racing heart as she watched Mr. Phillips, or rather Luke-o-licious, escort the boy from her office. Surprised that her legs could actually move, she crossed the small tile floor and plopped herself down in her old leather chair, her mind racing with this unexpected turn of events. When she’d called Phillips Security and talked to his receptionist, she expected a hardened soldier to show up, not sex in a formfitting T-shirt.

  You’ll never again have to juggle your melons alone.

  Oh, God!

  He’d been teasing her, flirting with her, but she’d been too focused on her upcoming meeting—on losing the business her ailing father had left her in hands—to partake in his sexy banter.

  Unable to help herself she stole a glance at him as he walked down the deli aisle with delinquent Trent in tow. As she thanked her lucky stars that he was good at his job and had stopped one more theft, she took in his long, hard legs and low-slung jeans that cradled his backside to perfection—and oh what a backside it was.