Page 13 of The Trail Boss

Roxie blinked, her lips parting in surprise as she whirled around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

Gavin crossed his arms, his broad shoulders blocking the faint glow of the streetlight. “I’ve been doing some digging, Roxie. Jeremiah left you in a hell of a mess. And someone out there has a reason to keep you quiet.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her fists clenching at her sides. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Not everything,” Gavin admitted. “But I know enough to see you’re up against more than you think.”

Her voice wavered when she spoke again, though she tried to sound defiant. “I’ve been dealing with it. On my own.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to her trembling hands before returning to her face. “But you don’t have to anymore.”

Roxie’s breath hitched, and for a moment, the vulnerability in her eyes tugged at something deep inside him. But just as quickly, her walls slammed back into place.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, stepping back.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need it,” Gavin replied, his voice steady.

Their gazes locked, the connection between them electric. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her—the mix of fire and fragility that made her impossible to ignore. And yet, he knew better than to push too hard.

Roxie shook her head, turning away. “Good night, Gavin.”

He let her go but stayed rooted to the spot, watching as she disappeared into her beat up sedan. His gut twisted with a mix of frustration and determination, but he nodded as two of his guys came out and looked at him. Roxie might not think she needed help, but until he agreed with her, she was going to get it.

Whether she wanted him to or not, Gavin wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he got to the bottom of who was after her—and why.

5

GAVIN

The next evening, after he’d finished some paperwork, Gavin stood in front of Roxie’s apartment door, his knuckles grazing the wood as he knocked for the second time. The hallway smelled faintly of mildew, and the dim bulb overhead flickered, casting erratic shadows on the cracked walls.

From inside, he heard muffled movement, followed by a sharp voice. “Who is it?”

“It’s Gavin.” His deep tone carried easily through the thin door.

A pause, then the sound of the lock clicking. The door cracked open just enough for Roxie’s face to appear, her brow furrowed in suspicion.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low and tight.

“We need to talk,” Gavin replied, his gaze steady as he met hers.

“About what?”

“About the pole, your charming in-laws, and the trouble you’re pretending doesn’t exist.”

Roxie’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he thought she might slam the door in his face. Instead, she sighed and swung the door open, stepping aside.

“Fine. Make it quick,” she muttered, her irritation evident in every movement as she crossed her arms and leaned against the small kitchen counter.

Gavin stepped inside, his eyes taking in the small, cluttered space. It wasn’t much, but it was clean, save for the pile of unopened mail on the table and the faint scent of something burning from the stove.

“You cooking something?” he asked, nodding toward the stovetop.

Roxie’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap!” She lunged for the pot, yanking it off the burner and waving away the plume of smoke rising from the charred remnants of whatever she’d been heating.

“Nice save,” Gavin said dryly, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Shut up,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing as she set the pot in the sink and turned back to him. “What do you want, Gavin?”

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