Page 4 of Beehives and Broken Heroes

That desire had both unnerved and excited him. It’d been so long since he’d felt that protective of a woman that he hadn’t recognized he still could.

As he got ready, shaved, brushed his hair, and picked out a clean white tee and his best pair of jeans, he thought of that—of Allie—with an ache close to the vicinity of his heart. He wanted her, all right, but he’d been burned before, and Allie had all the signs of a handful and then some. And he’d only known her a handful of weeks. Regardless of all that, he’d be darned if he knew how to handle the situation.

Chapter 2

The little ding above the door of Sticky and Sweet sent a pang of disappointment down Alice Ward’s spine. She knelt on the floor in the back office, searching behind the big corner desk. It was two minutes to six p.m., closing time, and she was worn slap out. Normally, Allie didn’t mind customers coming in late, but she had a family dinner tonight, and her twin sister Jocelyn—or Jo—and Jo’s fiancé, Cash, had already left to get started.

These family dinners with her sister, her mom, her aunt, her uncle, and her five cousins had become a weekly event since Cash proposed to Jo, and she’d grown to love them. Plus, her soon-to-be brother-in-law did all the cooking, and seeing as he was an award-winning chef, Allie had nothing to complain about.

She crawled out from under the desk, hitting her head on the underside. “Ow! Mother Hubbard!” She rubbed her head with one hand and shot off a text with her other.

Allie: Jo, where are the scissors?!?! You can’t hide them from me forever.

A text came through immediately.

Jo: I can. And I will.

Ugh. They’d been having this same argument for the last week.

Allie: It’s my hair, and I’ll cut it off if I darn well please. Where are the scissors?

Jo had already canceled a hair appointment Allie had made at Swiss Bliss Salon; she had hidden every pair of scissors in their business, their apartment, and at their aunt’s house; and she had gone up and down Main with their employee, Kathy Morrison, and made all the business owners promise not to let Allie use their scissors or buy them. And with the help of Kathy, Jo had even gotten Kathy’s brother, Deputy Ethan Morrison, to threaten to throw her in lockup for an hour if she tried. Ethan was a nice guy, but when Kathy asked, Ethan had given in—Ethan had practically raised Kathy, and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Allie had no doubt the threat was real.

Jo hadn’t been this mobilized since the great fiasco of their senior year in college when Allie had been dumped by her English T.A. Allie had wanted to dye her hair four or five different shades of green, because why not? Jo had stopped her, and Allie could admit she’d been glad of that.

But the need to make a change now—to not be what she was when her ex-fiancé, Tony, had almost royally screwed her and her sister over—the desire to be different immediately was growing exponentially within her. She’d burst if she didn’t shear her hair right off. Maybe a bob? Or maybe even a pixie cut? That might be cute. Would bald be going too far?

Of course, she didn’t know how to cut her hair or anyone’s hair, but how hard could it be?

Jo: It’s not just your hair, though, is it? You’ll want me to cut mine just like it. Just like every time you do something crazy. I’m not getting pulled into your post-breakup nonsense.

Allie growled and stomped her foot, then headed up front. She’d need to hurry their customer along so she wouldn’t be late for dinner. After the last few months—heck, after the last year—she needed something to look forward to.

Her aunt had taken to inviting Brandon Carroll ever since he’d decided to invest in Sticky and Sweet, and she wanted to show him some projections she’d been working on. His investment in their company had saved their bacon—quite literally, because up until he’d invested, they’d barely had enough money to pay rent, let alonebuybacon, thanks to the debts their deceased, well-meaning father had racked up. She was glad he’d not been around to see what his bad investments had cost them. It would’ve killed him.

She wanted to impress Brandon, keep him happy—plus, he was just an outright joy to be around, squirming under her Aunt Sophie’s matchmaking attempts. His sense of humor was dry, his manner was cool and collected, and Allie loved trying to rile him. She rarely achieved it, but it gave her something to look forward to and kept her mind off her traitorous ex. Brandon had been a good friend.

Allie stepped through the door separating the shop from the office. “Hi there, how can I help—”

Millie Douglas—Harvest Ranch gossip and manager of Bateman and Stalls Auction House in Charleston, the town fifteen-ish minutes to the north—stood at her counter in all her irritating glory. The woman was Allie’s mother’s age, fifty-five, but while her mother had aged gracefully and stunningly, Millie had nipped and tucked, prodded and poked, and bleached and plucked herself to her idea of perfection. The woman never let a single hair out of place.

“—you?” The end of Allie’s sentence came out more like an accusation than a question.

“Which one are you?” Millie smiled a glossy smile and tapped her pointed, bright pink acrylic nails against their counter with nerve-rattling clacks. Under her cool façade, Allie could tell the woman was fixin’ to start a fight.

Allie folded her arms. “What do you want?”

“Rude. You must be Allie.” Millie glanced at the ceiling. “Getting used to your new living arrangements?”

After Allie’s dad died, her family had discovered he’d owed a large debt to the bank. He’d participated in some business scheme perpetrated by a family “friend” only to lose everything they owned, even their house. Their business had been the only thing safe, but just barely. Allie, Jo, and their mother Clara had moved into the apartment above Sticky and Sweet, the apartment that had once been their offices and storage. It was cramped, but their mother had recently moved in with Aunt Sophie, and with Jo and Cash getting married in May, it’d soon be all Allie’s.

Allie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is your sister here?” Millie asked.

Allie bristled.

Up until five weeks ago, Jo had managed the business end of their company’s doings, while Allie had been the creative mind. After Allie had been kidnapped, in a totally harmless and friendly way by loan sharks, and then discovered that Tony was a loser who owed the sharks money, the sisters had had a heart-to-heart. They both wanted to branch out. Jo wanted to be more involved with the creative aspect of the business, and Allie wanted to be more involved with the actual business end of their business.

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