Close To Danger (Westen #4)(18)


With a shake of her head, she grabbed her own cart and walked the opposite direction to the women’s section. Determined to find something warm, she searched through the clothes’ racks, snatching up two pairs of jeans, some long sleeve tees and sweaters. It had been years since she’d shopped in the superstore for her wardrobe. Memories of Bobby bringing her and their youngest sister Dylan shopping for school clothes every year hit her hard. She’d wanted designer jeans and tops from the mall like the other girls at school. That resulted in a loud screaming battle between Bobby and her, ending with a teen-aged slamming of the bedroom door.

Chloe smiled as she reached for a plaid shirt.

One thing about her older sister, Bobby always learned from every encounter. The next August, right before school was to start, she’d taken her and Dylan to the mall. Seated in the beat-up Toyota she’d driven for years, she took out her wallet and handed them each one hundred dollars.

“That is all the money I have to spend on school clothes this year. You may spend it on whatever you want. It’s your money,” Bobby said.

“Designer jeans?” Chloe asked, all excited and visions of looking like a pop-singer floating around in her head.

“If that’s what you want.” Bobby nodded. “Just remember, that’s all you get. If your jeans cost ninety-nine dollars, you can’t get anything else. No shirts. No sweaters. No dresses.”

“What about underwear and shoes?” the ever-practical Dylan asked.

Chloe wanted to smack her. They’d just been given one hundred dollars to buy what they wanted. She wasn’t spending it on panties and bras.

Bobby smiled at Dylan. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of those along with a winter coat in a month or so. Today is about outfits. Oh, and whatever is left over from the money I gave you, is yours to save for later.”

They’d gone in the mall and quickly, Chloe jumped into shopping. Just as quickly, she realized there was no way she could buy the cute designer jeans and tops for just one hundred dollars. She had enough for only one outfit. When she’d complained to Bobby, her sister said she’d just have to wear all her clothes from last year. Which was fine if you were Bobby and stopped growing taller at five-feet-four inches. She’d shot up another two during the spring and summer, teetering on five-foot-ten.

That’s when reality hit her. Shopping for designer clothes to keep up with the cool kids would mean she wouldn’t have enough clothes for school. She couldn’t wear only one outfit all year long. Finally, she turned to her oldest sister and guardian.

“Can we go to Walmart?”

Bobby had put her arm around her waist and smiled. “Why don’t we try the sale rack against the wall first.”

In the end, she’d gotten one pair of designer jeans and a cute top on sale and the rest of her clothes at Walmart, where she found some designer clothes at discount. Her sister taught her several things that day, such as budget your money and live within the limits of what you have. Sometimes you can get what you want if you’re patient and are willing to think outside the box—or search through the sales rack. Peer pressure to be liked can be a very costly thing. Being an individual and believing in yourself is important.

With a smile Chloe headed with her choices towards the dressing room, stopping in the underwear aisle to snag some panties. She should probably get some bras, too, but one of the perks of having time off was to go braless. A smile split her lips. If it bothered the deputy, well, that was just his problem.



Fifteen minutes later, she found Wes standing in the shoe section, examining the women’s boots.

“I don’t think they have those in your size, deputy,” she teased.

“These might work for you.” He held up a pair of tan short boots that resembled men’s work boots.

Pushing her cart up beside his, she took the boot from him. “Not too bad. I could tuck the jeans into the top and lace them all the way if I’m trekking through deep snow.” She paused her inspection to glance up at him. “Is there a lot of snow where we’re going?”

“Won’t know until we get there.”

She flipped the boot over, checking the thick heel and soul. “Would be great for hiking. Are we going to have to trek up a mountain to get there?”

“Might have to go through some terrain. Won’t know—”

“Until we get there. Yeah, I get it. You’re not really going to tell me are you?”

The corner of his lip turned up and he lifted one brow.

The man was irritating. He didn’t plan to tell her where he was taking her, no matter how much she hinted. And by now, she was pretty sure he intended to isolate her in his cabin. The cabin they’d spent the night together in. The night she couldn’t remember.

Heat filled her face at the memory of waking up in his bed, clueless as to what had occurred, and her quick escape the next morning. Forcing herself to concentrate on the present, she handed the boot back to him and reached for a pair of high-gloss, mid-calf boots with three-inch stilettos. “How about these then?”

“Not going to work. You’d break your neck in them.”

“Okaaayy…” She set the impractical boot back in the box and reached for a pair of black suede short, slouch-type boots. “How about these. Easy to get into. No lacing them up like the others. Will fit over the bottoms of my jeans.” She flipped them over. “Smaller heel than even the pair you’re holding and a good tread. Perfect for walking around Westen.”

Suzanne Ferrell's Books