Книга - Not Without Her Family

Not Without Her Family
Beth Andrews


She just wants to make things right… It’s nothing but trouble for Jack Martin, chief of police, when Kelsey Reagan blows into town. Her brother just became the prime suspect in a murder and the reformed bad girl vows to prove he’s innocent. Then Jack’s precocious young daughter begins to idolise Kelsey.But an error in judgement nearly cost the widowed cop his career once; he’s never going to let that happen again. Not even for a gorgeous troublemaker like Kelsey. But he’s finding her harder and harder to resist…







“You’re attracted to me.”

Was he that easy to read? Jack kept his face expressionless. “Amazing.”

“What?”

“That ego of yours. How’d you ever get something that big through the doorway?”

“It’s not ego.” Kelsey’s green eyes met his. “I felt it – the pull between us. Are you going to tell me you didn’t?”



Jack swallowed. Yes, he felt it. He didn’t deny he was attracted to her. But just because he felt it didn’t mean he had to act on it. He controlled his body and his heart, not the other way around.

Damn, but Kelsey was sexy. And tempting. And a distraction his instincts told him he couldn’t afford.




Available in April 2010 from Mills & Boon® Special Moments™


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The Nanny Solution by Teresa Hill

An Ideal Father by Elaine Grant

Not Without Her Family by Beth Andrews





Not Without Her Family


By




Beth Andrews









MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Award-winning author Beth Andrews is living her dream, writing romance novels while looking after her real-life hero and their three children. A self-professed small-town girl, Beth still lives in the Pennsylvania town where she grew up. She has been honoured by her kids as The Only Mum in Town Who Makes Her Children Do Chores and The Meanest Mum in the World – as if there’s something wrong with counting down the remaining days of summer vacation until school starts again. For more information about Beth or her upcoming books, please visit her website at www.bethandrews.net.


For my Critique Partners, who so generously gave their time, encouragement and unending faith.

For my kids, who proudly told people I was a writer way before I ever did.

For Andy, who shows me every day that real-life happy endings are possible.




ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


I’d like to thank Officer Harsen for his valuable input. Any mistakes I’ve made are my own.

I’d also like to thank Victoria Curran for helping to make this book the best it could be.




CHAPTER ONE


“MA’AM, I NEED YOU TO MOVE away from the counter and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Damn. That didn’t sound good.

Standing in a dim patch of light a foot away from the horse shoe-shaped bar, Kelsey Reagan slowly turned toward the deep, commanding voice.

As she did, her gaze slid over the tall man walking into the empty room. A blue T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and he wore snug, dark blue jeans. Military-short black hair, granite features and icy-blue eyes completed the picture. All in all, a completely hum-worthy package.

She rolled her eyes. God, she really needed to get a grip. One look at a pretty face and she totally lost focus. She wasn’t here to enjoy the scenery—as nice as it was. She was here to see Dillon.

Besides, gorgeous or not, this guy was so not her type. Even though he wore normal clothes instead of some godawful uniform, Kelsey instinctively knew what he was. The authority in his voice, the way he seemed to size her up within seconds of looking at her, and his rigid, ready-for-anything posture told her he was a cop through and through.

Mostly it was the confident, I’m legally entitled to carrya gun and, yes, I will shoot you if you piss me off, tilt of his chin that gave him away.

“I’m with the Serenity Springs Police Department,” the cop said in a grave tone as he fished something out of his back pocket.

Kelsey sighed. She’d done it again. Wrong place. Wrong time. Her official, unofficial motto.

She should have it tattooed on her ass.

Except this was the right place. The Summit Bar of Serenity Springs, New York. As for the time…well…considering how long she’d waited to see Dillon again, and how desperate she was to make amends with him, it was the right time. It had to be.

She waved her hand at the shiny silver shield the cop held up for her inspection. “You can put the tin star away. I already pegged you as a cop.”

He pocketed his badge, his gaze intense as he studied her. “Ma’am,” he said evenly, “this establishment is closed.”

She rolled her eyes again at him calling her ma’am. At twenty-seven, she was a good eight years away from official membership in the Ma’am Club.

“Okay, I realize this…” She trailed off as she took in the scarred tables and chairs, walls discolored from years of cigarette smoke and the ancient linoleum floor. Establishment? Who was he kidding? This place was a dump, pure and simple. “I know this…bar is closed, but I figured there must be someone here.”

“What, exactly, led you to that conclusion?”

“Because when I knocked, the door practically swung open.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. She pursed her lips. Shoot. Looked like she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole.

She should’ve waited outside for Dillon instead of letting herself into the bar, especially once she realized the place was empty. But she’d been so excited to finally see him again—and afraid he’d take off if he spotted her in the parking lot.

Probably not the smartest move. Then again, she wasn’t exactly noted for her decision-making skills.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips and saw the cop follow the movement. Noticed a small, but real, flare of awareness.

She narrowed her eyes. Seemed to be a spark of life beneath this guy’s steely exterior after all. Maybe she could still wriggle her way out of this mess.

She hated to brag, but she was a damn good wriggler.

And while she’d done her best to avoid any contact with the police in the past ten years, wriggling with this particular cop wouldn’t be too much of a hardship.

She attempted a smile. “Look, Officer—”

“Actually it’s chief. Chief Jack Martin.”

Her grin slid away. Of course he was the chief. Because no way could she be lucky enough to get busted by a lowly traffic cop or something.

She tried again. “Chief Martin, my name is Kelsey Reagan and I don’t know what you think—”

“What I think,” he interrupted smoothly, “is that you’re trespassing on this property. You could be looking at breaking-and-entering charges.”

Her stomach fell to rest somewhere in the vicinity of her big toe.

“Hey, whoa, back up the paddy wagon there, Sheriff. This is all a big misunderstanding.” She worked to keep her voice light and steady and prayed she projected the right combination of honesty and innocence. Sort of like a Girl Scout. They were all about honesty and innocence, right? Which probably explained why she’d never been one. “I didn’t break in here. Not really.”

“How do you not really break in to a place?”

“Like I said, the door wasn’t locked and—”

“Do you always walk into a building simply because the door’s not locked?”

She fought her growing irritation. “What I’m saying is that I’d hoped someone was here so I knocked, several times, and when no one answered—”

“You let yourself in,” he finished for her. “Despite the Closed sign on the door.”

“I didn’t come inside to steal anything. I’m actually looking for someone who works here.”

“That so? And who would that be?”

“Dillon Ward.” She bit the inside of her lip. “Maybe you know him?”

He didn’t so much as blink. Kelsey blew out an exasperated breath. Didn’t everyone know everyone in a small town? But there was no flash of recognition in the cop’s eyes.

“Look,” she said, setting her purse on the bar, “I have a picture of him in here, maybe you could—”

“Hold up.” Chief Martin closed the distance between them in two long strides, picked up her purse and dumped it on the bar out of her reach.

Her mouth fell open. “What was that for?”

“A precautionary measure.”

“For what?” Then realization dawned on her and she wasn’t sure if she was amused or offended. “You worried I have a gun in there? Sorry to disappoint, but I left my Uzi in my evening bag.”

Ignoring her, he finally stepped back and nodded toward her scattered belongings. “Go ahead.”

She started to speak, then decided against it and dutifully pulled her wallet out of the mess and flipped it open. She took out the ten-year-old picture of Dillon and handed it to the cop but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “You always such a tight ass? Or is this just my lucky day?”

“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He glanced at the picture. “What’s your business with Mr. Ward?”

Kelsey cleared her throat. “It’s personal.”

He handed the picture back to her. “We’ve had several burglaries and instances of break-ins resulting in destruction of property over the past two months and—”

“I hate to burst your bubble,” she said as she tossed her stuff back into her purse, “but I’ve only been in town an hour. Any destruction to this property was done long before I arrived—maybe even before I was born. Besides, what am I supposed to steal? Plastic sip straws?”

She snapped her purse shut, raised her head and bit back a yelp of surprise. Chief Martin had stepped closer, his large body now looming over her. In an instinctive attempt to put some distance between them, Kelsey shuffled back and found herself pressed against the bar.

Her heart galloping in her chest, she straightened and forced herself to maintain eye contact. Cops were like wild dogs—hostile, arrogant, downright mean—and they ran in packs. The police department in her hometown had rallied around her abusive stepfather for years, simply because he was one of them.

She also knew if you showed them the slightest hint of fear, they’d gobble you up before you could say “kibble.”

“I wasn’t accusing you of any wrongdoing, ma’am,” he said in that annoyingly calm, emotionless voice of his. “I was simply explaining the reasons behind my actions.”

“Oh.” Kelsey swallowed and berated herself for attempting to antagonize him. “Sorry. It’s just that you…I mean…cops…make me nervous,” she blurted, her face heating.

His expression didn’t change. Did the man ever blink? “I take it you’ve had your share of run-ins with the police?”

“You could take it that way.”

Way more than she was comfortable with—starting with her first arrest at age ten for shoplifting. During the next five years she’d been busted for almost everything including underage drinking and vandalism to resisting arrest. And each time, when her stepfather—Glenn—found out about the trouble she’d gotten into, she usually ended up with a few bruises as part of her punishment.

“Seeing as how the owner isn’t here, and taking into account the break-ins, why don’t I just wait with you until Mr. Ward arrives?”

Kelsey crossed her arms. Just once she’d like real life to go according to her plans. Nowhere in her itinerary for the day did she have hang with a cop penciled in.

It grated to admit that even after all these years, cops still made her nervous. And she still didn’t trust a one of them.

She shook her head. “That’s not really necessary—”

“I insist,” he said, his steady blue eyes meeting hers.

She tried to tell herself her unsettled stomach was caused by nerves but even she wasn’t that good a liar. Okay, she really did not need her previously dormant hormones to surge to life. Not now. And especially not with a cop.

“You know,” she said, ignoring the unsteadiness in her voice, “maybe I should just wait in my car. Then we can chalk this whole episode up to one big misunderstanding.”

She wasn’t sure, but she could’ve sworn his lips twitched. “But this episode was just getting interesting,” he said dryly.

Yeah. That’s what she was afraid of.

“Besides,” he continued, “you never explained what your personal business with Mr. Ward happens to be. Is he your husband? Boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s my brother.”



HER BROTHER? He hadn’t seen that one coming.

She didn’t look much like the broad-shouldered, dark-haired Ward. Jack took in Kelsey Reagan’s slim legs, subtly curved hips and the tight black T-shirt hugging her small, round breasts. And was that a tattoo peeking over the waistband of her low-slung jeans?

His mouth grew dry at the idea of finding out, and he frowned. Focus, Martin.

He stole a quick look at her left ring finger. “Is Reagan your married name?”

“I’m not married.”

“Divorced?”

She raised both eyebrows. “Nosey, aren’t you?” Warmth crept up his neck but he merely shrugged. “Just curious.”

“If you must know, Dillon is my half brother. Different fathers.”

“And, as Mr. Ward’s sister, you thought illegal entry was a good idea?”

She sighed. “You’re just not going to let that go, are you?”

“I’m just doing—”

“I know, I know. You’re doing your job. I get it, okay? Just lay off the ma’ams,” she said as Jack’s sister Allie walked through the front door, “or else I might give you a reason to haul out those handcuffs you’re obviously dying to use.”

“Hey,” Allie called, curiosity clear on her face, “what’s going on?”

Ignoring his sister—and Kelsey’s loaded statement about him wanting to cuff her—Jack kept his gaze on the redhead. She reminded him of those modern art paintings his daughter had been fascinated with at the Metropolitan Museum of Art a few months back. The sharp lines of Kelsey’s face shouldn’t have worked with her high cheekbones and narrow nose. But they did. In fact, her unique features made her face all the more interesting.

He frowned. He found her interesting in a totally professional way, he assured himself, nothing more.

“I need to speak to the building’s owner for a minute,” he said, stepping back. But it wasn’t far enough away to avoid her light, citrusy scent. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Her emerald-green eyes narrowed. “I’ll stand.”

Intrigued by her stubbornness, he kept his mouth shut and walked over to where Allie stood, halfway into the bar.

“What’s going on? I thought you had the day off,” Allie said softly. She set two plastic grocery bags on a table, looking from him to the redhead and back again. “Who’s that?”

“I am off duty.” Jack turned so both the redhead and the exits were within his sight. “I came over to see if you wanted to have lunch.”

“You mean you came over to see if I’d cook you lunch.”

He almost grinned. “Only if you insist.”

Allie cuffed him on the shoulder. “That still doesn’t answer my second question. Who is she?”

“Says her name is Kelsey Reagan. Ring any bells?”

Allie glanced at Kelsey again. “No. Should it?”

“I just figured since you and Ward are such good buddies, you’d know the name of his sister.”

Allie’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me this Kelsey…”

“Reagan,” he supplied.

“Kelsey Reagan is Dillon’s sister?” At Jack’s nod, she continued, “He’s never mentioned her. Not to me, anyway.”

Jack didn’t miss the surprise on Allie’s face. Ever since Ward, the ex-con-turned-carpenter, started renovating The Summit, rumors had spread around town that he and Allie were lovers. But if that was true, surely she’d recognize the name of Kelsey Reagan.

Not that Jack believed the gossip. And not just because he didn’t want Allie involved with someone with Ward’s less-than-desirable background. No, he based his conclusions on the only thing he could count on. Cold hard facts.

While Allie had never bothered to deny or confirm it, the few times Jack had been around the two of them, he’d seen nothing to indicate their relationship was anything other than friendship. There were no long looks. No subtle brushing of hands. No sparks.

Nothing even remotely close to the flash that had, briefly, arced between Jack and Kelsey a few minutes ago.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Upon entering the premises, I discovered Miss Reagan inside. She claims the door was unlocked—”

“It was unlocked,” Kelsey called. “And if you’re going to keep talking about me, you might want to either lower your voices or go into another room.”

Jack took hold of Allie’s arm and moved her farther away from the bar. “Is that true?” he asked quietly.

Allie shrugged out of her red leather jacket. “I didn’t lock the door when I left, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How do you expect to run a business when you can’t even remember to lock the door?”

“I didn’t forget to lock it,” Allie whispered, “I left it open because I didn’t know when Dillon would be back.”

He glanced back at Kelsey. “I think it would be a good idea for you to check around, make sure nothing’s missing.”

Allie frowned. “Why? I only ran out for a few minutes.”

“In those few minutes, you could’ve returned to find half your stock gone and your cash register empty.”

“The stock’s still here,” she said, motioning to the bottlefilled shelves behind the bar. “Was she emptying the cash register when you found her?”

A headache began to form behind his eyes. “No. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t help herself to your petty cash.”

“It doesn’t mean she did, either.” She laid her coat on the table. “Remember that pesky little constitutional amendment? The one about a person being innocent until proven guilty?”

Spoken like the defense lawyer Allie was. Or had been until she’d chucked eight years of higher education, quit her job and returned home to buy this run-down bar.

Talk about your less-than-stellar career moves.

“Let’s save the debate on criminal rights for another time. Just do me a favor and check the cash register. Please,” he added, knowing Allie would balk at anything she construed as an order.

With a resigned—and to Jack’s mind, overly dramatic—sigh, Allie crossed the room and went behind the bar. Sending Kelsey an apologetic look, she opened the cash register drawer, glanced down and shut it again. She shook her head at Jack.

“I told you I didn’t steal anything,” Kelsey said with a smirk. And if he thought the smirk was sexy, no one had to know but him.

“Ignore my brother,” Allie told her. “He’s a bit overprotective.” She smiled. “I’m Allie Martin. Jack says you’re looking for Dillon?”

“That’s right. I thought he’d be working here today.”

“He ran out for some lunch,” Allie said. “But he should be back any minute. Can I get you something? A soda, maybe?”

“Uh…” Kelsey’s eyes darted from Allie to Jack, but then she slid onto a stool. “A soda would be great. Thanks.”

Allie filled a glass and placed it in front of Kelsey. “Is Dillon expecting you?”

Kelsey twirled her straw between two fingers. “I doubt it. I was in the area and thought I’d drop in to see him.” She sipped her drink. “So…uh…you own this place?”

“I do.” His sister’s pride was unmistakable. And, if you asked Jack, unwarranted.

Not that he wasn’t thrilled to have Allie back in Serenity Springs where she belonged, but why couldn’t she have opened a law practice instead of mixing drinks for a living? Or at least bought a place that hadn’t sat empty for the past year?

Allie leaned her elbows on the bar, her chin in her hand. “Actually I’ve only had it a few months. Dillon just started the renovations and he figures it’ll be at least two months before we’re done.”

“Have you thought of moving the pool table there?” Kelsey pointed to the far corner by the kitchen. “It would open the flow of traffic and leave you room for more seating.”

“You think?”

Kelsey nodded. “Yeah. That way you could put in a small dance floor as well. You could even add a dartboard.”

Jack sat two stools down from Kelsey and zoned out of their conversation before they started swapping decorating tips and cake recipes. His instincts went into overdrive when he looked at Kelsey. It was more than just her looks, her clothes and her bad-girl vibe.

He’d been brought up to never judge a book by its cover. Helen and Larry Martin had raised their four children to be fair and nonjudgmental. His liberal mother insisted on tolerance and compassion, and his father—Serenity Springs’ previous chief of police—truly believed justice was for all.

Nice sentiments, but Jack knew better.

Nine years working the streets of New York City, working his way up to detective, had wiped away any idealistic beliefs his parents had instilled in him. Tolerance and compassion were no match against the endless stream of violence and ugliness so many people faced day in and day out.

He’d learned to look beyond the obvious. To count on his instincts. At the moment, those instincts were telling him there was more to Kelsey Reagan than met the eye.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Jack turned to see Dillon Ward standing in the doorway. Ward’s usual cold, flat expression had been replaced with a dark scowl. And that dark scowl was aimed at none other than Kelsey Reagan.

Jack glanced at Kelsey. Gone was the cocky, go-to-hell attitude. Instead she seemed apprehensive. Nervous. Almost…vulnerable.

What was that about?

Kelsey got to her feet. “I…I wanted to see you.”

Her statement was met with silence. Not the comfortable kind, either. More like the oppressive, somebody-say-something-to-break-it kind.

“Well,” Allie said brightly, doing her part to ease the tension in the room. “I’m starving. I think I’ll just go make some lunch. Come on, Jack.”

“I’m not hungry.” He kept his eyes on Ward.

Allie walked around the bar and stopped in front of Jack. “I said—” she grabbed his arm and pinched, hard “—let’s go.”

Ow. Damn, that was going to leave a bruise. “Fine.” He twisted out of her reach knowing he could keep an eye on Kelsey and Ward from the kitchen. Allie grabbed her coat while Jack picked up her groceries.

“What was that for?” Jack asked when they were in the kitchen.

“What do you think?” She unloaded her groceries onto an old, large farm table. “They don’t need us watching their every move.”

“Wanna bet?”

She sent him an exasperated look. “You’re overreacting, Jack. Just because you don’t like Dillon—”

“He’s a convicted felon. A murderer.”

Allie’s expression darkened and she slammed a can of tomatoes onto the table with more force than necessary. “Dillon has paid his debt to society, and he’s been an exemplary citizen since he moved here. Besides, whatever’s going on between him and Kelsey is none of our business.”

“As chief of police, everything that happens in this town is my business.” He edged toward the doorway to watch the couple in question. “But, as long as Ward and his sister keep their noses clean, they won’t have anything to worry about, will they?”



KELSEY MET DILLON’S HAZEL EYES and emotions surged through her, too numerous to name, too frightening to acknowledge. The only solid thought she could grasp and recognize was that after so long, she was finally face-to-face with her brother again.

Too bad she’d only been fooling herself all these years thinking time would heal their wounds.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come. She barely recognized Dillon as the young man who’d given up his future for her. In his place stood a broad-shouldered stranger who looked at her with cold, emotionless eyes.

Well, one thing was for sure. He hadn’t been expecting her.

Guess she should’ve remembered how much he hated surprises.

“What do you want, Kelsey?”

“Leigh’s dead,” she blurted out as she twisted her fingers together. “She died in her sleep three months ago. The coroner said it was heart failure.”

“I know.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

And here she’d thought the news of their mother’s death would be the perfect excuse for tracking him down.

“If that’s what you came here to tell me—”

“I just wanted to see you. To talk to you.” No response. Not a flicker of emotion crossed the hard planes of his face. “Uh, how have you been?”

“You mean since the last time you saw me?” He stuck his hands in his front pockets and shrugged. “Hard to get much worse than being in federal prison, isn’t it?”

She flinched at the bitterness in his voice. At the accusation. Of course he had every right to accuse her. After all, he wouldn’t have gone to prison if he hadn’t been protecting her.

She wanted to beg him to forgive her for what happened. To throw herself into his arms and never let him go again. Instead, she took several deep breaths and wiped her damp palms down the front of her jeans.

“I can’t believe it’s been ten years,” she said. “It’s taken me so long to find you.” Silence. She forced her lips into a smile. “You’re a hard man to track down.”

“That’s the way I wanted it.”

She dropped her pseudo-grin. Okay. Things weren’t going quite as well as she’d hoped. Not only had she forgotten how much Dillon disliked surprises, but she’d also forgotten how bullheaded he could be.

She glanced toward the kitchen, not surprised to see the cop watching them from the doorway. “Is there somewhere we could go to talk?” she asked Dillon.

“I’m working,” he said flatly.

“Dillon, please—”

“No. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. You shouldn’t have come.”

She willed back tears. She kept her voice low and fought the urge to turn and run away from the hatred in his eyes. “I just want a chance to talk to you, to apologize—”

“I don’t care what you want. Not anymore.” He met her eyes. “I want to be left alone. To forget everything that happened.”

Though it hurt—God did it hurt—Kelsey forced herself to ask, “Does that include me, too?”

“Yeah,” he said after a long moment. “It does.”

It was like being punched in the gut. She was shocked to find she was still standing, still on her feet and able to breathe when all she wanted to do was slide to the floor and cry. “Please, I—”

“No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before letting his hand drop. “Look, I don’t blame you or hold you responsible for what happened, but the past is over. And I want it to stay that way.”

“It doesn’t have to be over. We can work through this. Start again.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

She reached out, her fingers grazing his hand. “Dillon, wait. We could—”

He whirled around and grabbed her by the upper arms. She gasped as he raised her onto her toes. “Damn it, Kelsey.” He shook her once. Though it was the barest of movements, it made her stomach turn. “Don’t you get it? I’m through with you.”

“Is there a problem, Ward?”

Kelsey shut her eyes at the sound of the cop’s commanding voice. When she opened them again, the cop was standing behind Dillon, his expression downright frigid.

Dillon dropped her arms and stepped back. “No problem, Chief Martin. Kelsey was just leaving.”

She pressed her lips together. “You want me gone? Fine. But we aren’t done yet.”

Kelsey spun on her heel and stormed out into the bright sunshine. Crossing the paved parking lot, she passed a run-down pickup truck, a snazzy red SUV and the cop’s car—a black-and-white Jeep. When she reached her ancient gray hatchback, she bowed her head and inhaled shakily. She rubbed her hands over her arms where Dillon’s fingers had been, unsure if she was shivering because of the cool October breeze or Dillon’s anger.

“You okay?”

She stiffened. “Fine.” She swiveled to face the cop. “Don’t tell me I’m breaking some sort of city ordinance by standing in one spot too long.”

He studied her silently and she could’ve sworn he looked…concerned. For her.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he said. “All part of the job.”

The job. Of course. What, had she honestly thought he’d been worried for her? Ha. Fat chance. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she turned back to her car, pulled her key out of her front pocket and inserted it into the lock with an unsteady hand. The urge to escape, to run away, almost overwhelmed her. Had her pulse racing, her palms sweating. She didn’t want to stay, didn’t want to face her mistakes or her brother’s disgust.

But she couldn’t run. Not this time. She wouldn’t give up. No matter what Dillon said or how many times he pushed her away, she wasn’t going anywhere until she got what she came for.

It wouldn’t be easy, she’d known that much before she’d left New York. What she hadn’t taken into account was how much it would hurt to look into Dillon’s eyes and realize the truth—he hadn’t forgiven her. For putting him in the position where he’d had to take a man’s life to save hers. And for abandoning him.

How could she ever forgive herself?




CHAPTER TWO


JACK COULDN’T HELP BUT WONDER what was going on in Kelsey’s head. He’d only been in her company less than twenty minutes but he already knew she was a puzzle.

He always did like solving puzzles.

Hell, the biggest mystery at the moment though was why he had followed her out here in the first place. Sure, he’d told her he was just doing his job, and after seeing Ward manhandle her, that was partly true. But he was also there because, to be honest, he didn’t like the vulnerability he’d seen in her any more than he’d liked the sight of that SOB grabbing her.

She slid him a sideway glance. “Quit looking at me like that.”

She sure was prickly. Come to think of it, prickliness and defensiveness were two of Ward’s more irritating traits as well. Guess there was a family resemblance after all.

“How am I looking at you?” He hoped it wasn’t with anything other than professional interest. He hadn’t given himself away, had he?

She faced him, her pretty green eyes flashing. “With pity.”

“I don’t pity you.” Though he hadn’t liked how she’d clearly lost her confidence and spirit when Ward had stepped into the room. “I don’t think Ward’s worth it.”

“Not worth what?”

Not worth the tears he’d seen in her eyes or the dejection in her expression.

“Not worth getting so upset over,” he said. “I’ve seen Ward’s kind before. You’re better off without him.”

Her mouth opened. Then shut. She shook her head. “You don’t know Dillon or me. And I don’t need, or want, your opinion.”

He probably deserved her curt tone. Even it he’d only been trying to help. But if she wanted to waste her time with the likes of Dillon Ward, it was no concern of his.

“I apologize if I was out of line,” he said, unable to keep the stiffness out of his voice. With a slight nod, he put on his sunglasses, turned and walked away.

He wasn’t going to apologize for distrusting Dillon Ward. Of course, it was true that Ward had managed to stay out of trouble since being released from federal prison, but Jack wasn’t about to let his guard down. Especially while Ward was working for Allie.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Kelsey called, exasperation clear in her voice.

Jack stopped by his Jeep and slowly turned around. She was still at her car, her arms crossed at her chest, her mouth turned down at the corners.

“Was there something you needed?” he asked when she remained silent.

Her frown deepened and she sighed heavily which, for some crazy reason, made him want to smile. He must really be losing it.

The sun picked up the copper highlights in her spiky hair as she trudged across the parking lot toward him. “I need directions to a place to spend the night.”

“Planning on staying in our fair town long?”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff. I’ll be gone in the morning.”

He wasn’t worried. Much. “Depending on what you’re looking for—”

“Just a clean bed and bit of privacy.”

“You might like the B and B over by the lake. The Bee Hive.”

She snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Afraid not.” He opened the Jeep’s door, pulled out his citation book and ripped out a ticket. After scribbling directions on the back, he handed her the paper. “It’s clean and not too far from here.”

She hesitated a moment before taking it, careful not to touch him.

“Thanks,” she said, avoiding his eyes. Jack leaned back against his car as he watched her march away. She climbed behind the wheel of an older model gray compact and took off like a redheaded bat out of hell.

He blew out a breath, climbed into his Jeep and told himself he was glad Kelsey was leaving in the morning. Though there might have been a small spark of attraction between them, it was only temporary and superficial. Not that he minded superficial when it came to sex, but even if Kelsey did stay in town, he’d keep his distance from her.

The last thing he needed, he thought as he started the ignition, was to get tangled up with Dillon Ward’s sister.



KELSEY STAGGERED INTO HER ROOM, turned the lock on the door handle, crossed the small space and fell facedown onto the plush bed. The room was sparsely furnished but clean. There didn’t seem to be many other options in town. At least not many she could afford. Which Chief Martin had obviously figured out or else he wouldn’t have suggested this place.

She sighed. It was one thing to be down and out. It was another to be obvious about it. Not that she cared what he thought of her. He was just another guy in uniform.

She turned her head to the left and wrinkled her nose. Oh, all right—the cop was gorgeous. In a law-abiding sort of way. And yeah, there had been a moment when she’d felt a definite…connection. Not one of those eyes-locked-across-a-crowded-room moments or anything. More like an awareness. And she was pretty certain he’d felt it, too.

And that he hadn’t liked it any more than she did.

She yawned widely and shut her eyes. It was barely 5:00 p.m. and she was already bone weary, which was so unlike her. For the past three years she’d tended bar during peak hours so she was used to being up late. But the emotional roller coaster she’d been riding since discovering her brother was alive and well—and living a few short hours away from her—left her exhausted.

Too bad their reunion hadn’t gone as smoothly as she would’ve liked.

She rolled onto her side and stared at the sky-blue wall. The color reminded her of the cop’s eyes so she turned onto her back, absently picking at the bedspread.

She’d shocked Dillon by showing up unannounced, but she’d been scared he’d take off if he knew she’d found him. She couldn’t take the chance of losing him again. Once Dillon calmed down, he’d listen to her. Her hand fisted in the bedspread. He had to.

She’d been a senior in high school the last time she saw him. She’d ditched class and taken a bus to the Toledo Correctional Institute where Dillon was serving his sentence for manslaughter. He’d been so distant, so cold. As if she’d meant little more to him than a stranger would.

She had no one to blame for the distance between them but herself. Because he’d had to save her, Dillon spent close to five years locked up.

Dillon told her he didn’t want her to visit or write him again. She’d let him push her away, had allowed her pain—and her guilt—to keep her away.

Even then, she never gave up on him. She’d found an attorney willing to take his case, one who’d been able to get his sentence reduced. But by the time she’d gotten up the courage to face him again, Dillon had disappeared from Ohio and her life.

She hadn’t come this far—literally and figuratively—to give in now. She wanted her brother back in her life. Wanted to prove she wasn’t the same impulsive troublemaker she’d been. Mostly, she wanted a connection to the only person who’d ever believed in her. Who’d ever loved her. And, by God, that’s exactly what she would get.

Whether Dillon liked it or not.



“BUY ME A DRINK, SAILOR?”

Jack glanced up. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Pinching pennies?” Seth Valentine sat on the bar stool next to Jack. “No wonder you never get laid.”

“(a) You’re not my type,” Jack said over the classic Aerosmith song playing on The Summit’s jukebox. “And (b) I’ve had sex plenty of times without your half-assed advice.”

“I’m not talking about your solo sessions. Only the times another warm body was involved. And barn animals don’t count.”

“You’re a riot,” Jack told his closest friend. The bartender, a heavily made-up brunette with a silver hoop in her left eyebrow, took Seth’s beer order and scurried off. “What are you doing here? The NYPD now giving detectives weekends off?”

Seth scooped a handful of bar nuts from the bowl in front of them. Tossed some into his mouth and shook the ones left in his hand. “Came up for my mom’s birthday tomorrow.”

“She still pissed about Mother’s Day?”

“She threatened to sell her house and move in with me if I miss her birthday, and I have to get her a decent gift.”

Having known Mrs. Valentine since he was in kindergarten, Jack knew she didn’t issue empty threats. “Guess that six-month membership to Weight Watchers wasn’t such a hot idea.”

“Hey, she’s always moaning about losing twenty pounds. How was I to know it would set her off?” Seth nodded his thanks when his draft was placed in front of him. “What about you?” he asked, wiping his hand on his jeans before picking up his beer. “Where’s Emma?”

“She’s spending the weekend with her grandparents.”

Ever since his wife died in a car accident four years ago, Emma spent one weekend a month with Nicole’s parents in New Jersey—Jack wanted his daughter to stay connected to both sides of her family.

Seth, in the act of raising his beer, stopped suddenly and whistled under his breath. “Hello. Look what just walked in.”

Jack followed his friend’s line of sight. His stomach did one slow roll.

Conversation quieted as every eye in the bar zeroed in on Kelsey. With her tight jeans and spiky red hair, she begged attention. She’d changed into a long-sleeved, purple T-shirt and, as she strode into the room, her small breasts bounced beneath the fabric.

He couldn’t help but enjoy the sight.

“I’d kill to see those legs in a skirt,” Seth said in an undertone. “A really short skirt with a pair of three-inch heels. And those have got to be the perkiest pair of—”

“Shut up,” Jack murmured as Kelsey drew near. Her eyes locked on his for a moment as she passed him by. He turned and watched her perch on a stool at the far end of the bar before tearing his gaze away.

“What?” he asked, noticing Seth smirking at him.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just ask. Who is she?” Jack finished his soda and set the glass on the bar. “Why so interested? She’s not exactly your type.”

“I happen to love redheads.”

“Since when?”

“Since I found true love with sweet Mary Jane Hanover.”

Jack snorted out a laugh. “Is this the same Mary Jane whose very large boyfriend kicked your ass for sleeping with her?”

Seth swallowed a drink of beer. “He wasn’t her boyfriend at the time. I don’t poach.”

“Unless you won’t get caught.”

“Unless I won’t get caught,” he agreed. “And I didn’t get my ass kicked. I held back so I wouldn’t hurt that idiot.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, as I remember, sweet Mary Jane wouldn’t give you the time of day, let alone any sexual favors, until I buttered her up for you.”

“Please—” Seth held a hand out to stop him. “Don’t use expressions like buttered up when talking about Mary Jane. Gives me ideas. And don’t think you can get away with changing the subject, either.”

Jack hooked his foot on the rung of his stool and debated the chances of getting Seth to drop this discussion. He bit back a sigh. Not going to happen. Seth’s laid-back attitude and humor hid a tenacity unrivaled by mere mortals. “Her name is Kelsey Reagan and she’s Dillon Ward’s sister.”

“Ward…You mean the guy who lives above the bakery?”

“One and the same.” He glanced over to see Kelsey talking to the bartender. “She’s only in town for the night.”

Seth grinned. “Too bad. You could—”

“Hello, gentlemen,” a female voice purred.

Jack turned and found himself looking into a pair of darkblue eyes. “How are you, Shannon?” he asked the beautiful blonde.

“Couldn’t be better,” she replied in her husky smoker’s voice. “I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?”

“Would you look at the time?” Seth didn’t bother glancing at his watch as he drained his beer. He stood and tossed a five dollar bill on the bar. “I’d better get going.” He flashed a grin at Jack. “Catch you later.”

Jack clenched his teeth as his ex-friend cheerfully abandoned him. Wasting no time, Shannon claimed the empty stool. Her short, black skirt rode a few inches above her knee to show a good deal of her toned, tanned thigh. She shook her long, golden hair behind her shoulder and looked at him from under her lashes.

As far as sultry looks go, hers was top-notch. Jack wondered if she practiced it in the mirror.

“What’ll it be?” she asked.

He’d have one quick and painless escape, please. Unfortunately, his position as police chief, and hers as the wife of a prominent city councilman, made running like hell an impossibility.

Too bad.

“Thanks, but I’m not drinking tonight,” he said.

She looked pointedly at his empty glass.

“That’s fine,” she assured him, leaning forward. Though he suspected she was giving him a clear view down the V-neck of her silky white shirt, he kept his gaze on her face. “I wanted to talk to you about the security for the country club’s Harvest Ball.”

Sure she did. And thirteen-year-old boys snuck peeks at Playboy for the articles.

The headache he thought he’d got rid of earlier began to come back. He blamed it on Shannon’s perfume, something floral and overly sweet. Remembering Kelsey’s fresh, sexy scent, he glanced in her direction. Humor lit her expression as their eyes met.

Jack broke eye contact first and turned his attention back to Shannon. “Everything’s all set for the dance. If you have any questions, we can go over them at next week’s meeting.”

“Those meetings are always so hectic.” She pouted and laid a well-manicured hand high up on his thigh, her red fingernails stark against his jeans. “Why don’t we go back to my house? We can discuss it now.”

Her lips said discuss, but her eyes said let’s get naked and do the nasty.

Jack groaned inwardly. Polite tact was lost on Shannon. He lifted her hand off and stood.

“I’m sorry but I already have plans.” He kept his voice low, controlled and, though it almost killed him, pleasant. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak with.”

Ignoring the angry flush staining Shannon’s cheeks, he turned and walked to the end of the bar. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the way Shannon blatantly came on to him whenever they were in the same room together. Or the fact that to escape Shannon, he was heading straight for Kelsey Reagan.

He stopped next to Kelsey’s stool and waited until she looked up. “Mind if I join you?”

Kelsey glanced behind him then back. “Using me as an escape hatch, Sheriff?”

“I’m not the sheriff.” Jack sat next to her. “I’m the chief of police.”

She waved that distinction away. “Whatever you are, you’ve surprised me.”

“How so?”

“By not being interested in Tropical Tan Barbie over there. Most men would sell their soul to have a woman like that coming on to them. Either you’re one of the few faithful married men alive—”

“I’m not.” As usual, when he thought of Nicole he felt a slight pinch to his heart. When Kelsey raised her eyebrows he added, “I’m not married.”

She tilted her head, watched him thoughtfully. “Oh, well then. Maybe you’re just not into women.”

What the hell? He straightened and tried to laugh, but the idea of a sexy woman thinking he was gay was about as nonfunny as you could get. “I’m not gay.”

The humor lighting her eyes told him she knew damn well he was straight. She’d just been yanking his chain. “What’s the matter then? Jeez, she was practically drooling in your lap.”

“For some reason, drooling desperation doesn’t turn me on.”

“Huh. Go figure.” The bartender came over and slid a plate of cheese-covered French fries in front of Kelsey.

“What brings you back to The Summit?” he asked when they were alone again.

“I was hungry,” she said and popped a dripping fry into her mouth.

“And, besides clogging your arteries, you wanted another shot with your brother.”

She swallowed then took a sip of her drink. “Wow. That’s brilliant detective work. You should be a cop or something.”

Jack’s lips twitched.

“You, on the other hand,” she continued, wagging a fry at him, “are not only hiding from the blonde, but you’re also checking up on me.” She leaned toward him, her citrus scent tickling his nose. “Shouldn’t you mutter something about this town not being big enough for both of us?”

He lifted a shoulder. Eased back to put some distance between them. “Too cliché for me.”

The amused look on her face told him she noticed how he’d backed away from her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“I already told you,” he said quietly, “I’m not gay.”

“No kidding. But that’s not what I’m talking about. And the real reason you’re over here isn’t because you’re running from the blonde.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nope.”

Jack waited. She dug in to her food with the enthusiasm of a linebacker three times her size. Though his gut told him he would regret asking, he couldn’t stop himself. “Are you going to enlighten me?”

“You’re attracted to me.”

Holy hell. Was he that easy to read?

He kept his face expressionless, his voice dry. “Amazing.”

“What?”

“That ego of yours. How’d you ever get something that big through the doorway?”

“It’s not ego. I felt it—the pull between us. Are you going to try and tell me you didn’t?”

He swallowed. Hell yes, he felt it. The attraction between them wasn’t exactly subtle. Physical and momentary, yes, but not subtle.

But just because he felt it, didn’t mean he had to acknowledge it. Or worse, act on it. He controlled his body, and his feelings, they didn’t control him.

He deliberately straightened and shifted so that their knees brushed. Her startled gaze shot to his. At the quick, telltale nervous gesture of her pink tongue wetting her lips, his stomach tightened.

Damn, but she was sexy. And tempting. And a distraction he couldn’t afford.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said.

“Okay. You first.”

The pulse at the base of her neck beat rapidly. He had the strongest urge to press his lips against it.

He jerked his head up. “I’m not over here because I’m attracted to you.”

“No?”

“No. After your foray into breaking-and-entering this afternoon, I’m over here to make sure you keep your nose clean while you’re in my town.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff, like I said I won’t be in your town much longer. Besides,” she added with a quick, lethal smile that made his heart skip a beat, “other than that little misunderstanding, I usually avoid trouble at all costs.”

He studied her, looking for subterfuge beneath the humor. She sure as hell seemed sincere. So much in fact that for some crazy reason, Jack found himself wanting to believe her.

He straightened where he sat. Damn it, he couldn’t ignore his instincts, not again. And if he let his guard down for one moment, he’d give in to his attraction to her. And that he couldn’t afford to do.




CHAPTER THREE


THE DISBELIEF ON JACK’S FACE told Kelsey he didn’t trust her. She shrugged and dug back into her food to hide her embarrassment. So much for her vow to think before she spoke.

She was supposed to be proving she could curb her impulsive and reckless tendencies. Guess she still needed practice.

“So, you walk the straight and narrow?” Jack asked.

Finished with her fries, Kelsey wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and tossed it onto her empty plate. “Haven’t had so much as a parking ticket in the past ten years.”

“That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“It’s more of an accomplishment for some than others.”

“Looks like you’re going to get your wish,” Jack said.

“What wish is that?”

He gestured to the door. Dillon stood across the room, his eyes on her. Luckily, the same blonde who’d tried to pick up Jack stopped Dillon before he could leave. But, if Kelsey didn’t hurry, she would lose her chance to talk to her brother tonight.

She jumped off the stool, dug some money out of her front pocket and tossed it on the bar.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jack asked.

“I just want to talk to him.”

“You tried that once.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give up easily.” But the idea of Dillon blowing her off again kept her rooted to her spot.

Biting her lower lip, she looked back at her brother. His expression darkened as he listened to the blonde now hanging on his arm. Dillon’s mouth thinned but he didn’t shake her off. Instead, he met Kelsey’s eyes for one long moment, turned on his heel and led the blonde out the door.

Dillon was gone.

“I’d heard there was bad blood between them—your brother and Shannon,” Jack said, bringing her attention back to him. “Something about a job he did at her house. Guess whatever the problem was, it’s fixed now.”

“Gossiping, Sheriff?”

Her toes curled at the grin he shot her. “Everybody here knows everybody else’s business.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Especially their secrets.”

She swallowed. Jack’s face was inches from her own, his blue eyes so mesmerizing, she was unable to look away. Suddenly everything was too much. The noise in the bar. The number of people. And especially Jack, sitting close enough for her to feel his body heat, his expression knowing and intense.

“It’s getting late,” she pointed out. “I’d better head back to the B and B.”

Jack got to his feet. Kelsey stepped back and bumped into the stool in her haste to make sure their bodies didn’t touch. Other than a slight quirk of his lips, he gave no indication he noticed.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

She shrugged and turned away but knew he was right behind her. When he laid a hand on the small of her back to guide her through the bar, she almost jumped out of her skin. The warmth of his fingers seeped through her shirt and a shiver rushed up her spine.

They stepped outside into the cool evening air and Jack dropped his hand. She immediately missed the contact.

“Where are you parked?” he asked.

“Over by that second light.” Kelsey dug her keys out of her purse. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

“Well, everyone in the bar saw us leave together. What if they think we’re heading back to your place for a marathon round of wild jungle sex?”

She felt, more than saw, him glance at her. “They’ll think what they want,” he said after a long moment, “whether it’s true or not.”

“I’d rather not know a single soul than have everyone talking about me, knowing about my personal life.”

“Once you get used to it, a small town’s not so bad.”

“I know exactly what it’s like. The town I grew up in isn’t much bigger than Serenity Springs.”

“You don’t miss it?”

Miss everyone looking down their noses at her, knowing her every mistake? Hardly. “No. I’d rather be in New York. Look at all it has to offer. Starbucks. Krispy Kreme. Excitement. Variety.”

“There’s nothing about the city you don’t like?”

She could do without her supervisor, Eric, giving her the worst shifts at the club and cornering her every chance he got so he could rub his insignificant self against her. But she couldn’t blame that on the city. Just her own stupidity for breaking her “No sleeping with the boss” rule and getting involved with Eric in the first place.

She stopped beside her car, unlocked the door and faced Jack. “New York is the biggest, most exciting city in the world.” Which was absolutely true. Even if she did, at times, feel lost and alone. “What more could I want?”



JACK COULD THINK of something he wanted. And he wouldn’t have to go far to get it, either. A quarter of an inch, half an inch max, and he’d be able to capture her mouth with his. He didn’t move.

If he moved, he’d have to touch her. And touching her was the last thing he needed to do.

He fisted his hands. Kelsey remained motionless, her full lips tipped up in a half grin, her body trapped between him and the car.

He tamped down a surge of desire. “Serenity Springs is nice. Small. Quiet.”

“You mean boring.”

“The security of knowing your neighbors more than makes up for any perceived boredom. The predictability is comforting.”

“It’s comforting to you.”

He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I lived in New York. Nine years of crowds, pollution and, of course, the neverending crime.” He shook his head. “I’ll take small town any day.”

She leaned back against her car. “You’re forgetting all the good things about it. Dance clubs, museums, live theater. The bustle of the crowds.”

He snorted. “Homeless people. Worrying some lunatic is going to push you out in front of an oncoming train.”

“This town doesn’t even have a Chinese restaurant, which means no kung pao chicken or pot stickers. That’s just wrong. Not to mention un-American.”

He coughed to cover his laugh. Jack loved living here, but he knew not everyone did. A lot of people were biding their time until they could move on to better things.

Except he’d experienced the supposedly bigger and better and had found it to be neither. Besides, this was the best place to raise his daughter. She needed the security. They both did. And coming back here was what had gotten him through that first year without Nicole.

“It’s like you already said,” Kelsey continued, “you can’t do or say anything without the entire town knowing about it. Plus, they know exactly who and what you are. Even if you wanted to change, they won’t let you. What if you wanted to do something out of character? Cut loose?”

What he wanted was to nibble on her lower lip, to run his tongue over it before sucking it gently into his mouth.

And she knew it. He could see it in her eyes. The awareness.

He had to put her in her car and get the hell out of there. Before he did something totally stupid. “I don’t want to cut loose.” Maybe if he kept saying it, he’d start to believe it. “It’s getting late, you’d better go.”

Disappointment flickered in her eyes, but she straightened. “Right. Well, thanks for walking me to my car.”

He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t let her go. Not yet.

“Wait,” he said and she looked at him expectantly. “I’m not sure I trust you,” he told her.

Instead of being offended, she nodded. “Ditto.”

So why were they leaning in toward each other? Why couldn’t he stop himself from reaching for her, from placing his hands on her lower back and pulling her to him?

Her eyes widened, her pupils grew big, and though he gave her plenty of time to draw away from him, she didn’t. Their bodies met. Her hip pressed against his thigh. Heat spiraled through his body. Jack couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. He stroked her long back, moving under the edge of her shirt to caress the skin at the gentle curve of her waist.

Her skin was warm. And soft. He slowly dragged his hands up her arms and over her shoulders. She tipped her head back as he trailed his fingertips over the rise of her collarbone. Cupping her throat, he ran the rough pad of his thumb over her lower lip.

She trembled. He watched, transfixed by the movement of his thumb over that plump lip. The very tip of her tongue flicked against his skin. Dark, powerful lust punched him in the gut.

Fighting for control, he slid his hand around the back of her neck and tightened his free arm around her waist, pressing her intimately against him.

“You’re still leaving tomorrow, right?” he asked, his voice rough.

She stroked her cool fingers across the back of his neck. “First thing in the morning.”

Good. If she wasn’t going to stick around, he could appease his curiosity. He could satisfy his craving for her.

Then he’d be able to banish her from his thoughts.

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do at this moment than kiss you,” he admitted.

“You don’t trust me,” she reminded him, her hands moving up his chest and linking behind his neck.

True, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not when his hands were on her and she was looking up at him, her eyes a dark, mossy green, her body pressed against his.

Promising himself just one quick taste of her, he fisted his hand in her short hair. Some part of his brain recognized how the fragrant strands slipped through his fingers like silk, but then he lowered his mouth to hers and stopped thinking altogether.

HEART POUNDING IN ANTICIPATION, Kelsey kept her eyes open and on Jack’s as he closed the distance separating them. He brushed his lips against her mouth. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eye fluttered shut when he settled his mouth on hers.

She sighed softly. Yes. This is what she’d wanted.

Contrary to the hunger that practically emanated from of him, he didn’t devour her, didn’t overwhelm her. Despite his hand on her head and his arm around her waist, he kept the kiss gentle. Soft. Controlled.

He raised his head, breaking contact. “That was a mistake.”

Kelsey lifted her heavy lids and blinked away the thick haze of desire. That was it?

Jack stared down at her, his expression hot with want, his mouth tight with tension. He began to pull back, removing his hand from under her shirt.

Oh, no. No way. She tightened her grip on him. He wasn’t going to back away now. She wouldn’t allow him to pretend that meager excuse for a kiss had been enough for him.

Damn it, she wanted satisfaction.

“Yeah, that probably was a mistake,” she agreed. And she pulled his mouth back to hers.

His deep groan reverberated against her lips. He slanted his warm mouth over hers as he took command of the kiss, deepening it until her limbs grew heavy and her head light. She was drowning in sensations, the rasp of his tongue against hers, the scrape of his whiskers on her face, the strength of his hands as they cupped her rear and held her tight to him.

She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Her need to get closer was so intense, she wanted to climb on top of him. Wanted to wrap herself around him, to absorb him through her skin.

The sound of music and voices floated over to them and Jack sprung away from her. Kelsey collapsed back against her car as a middle-aged couple left the bar. She watched them get into their car and pull out of the parking lot.

She glanced up to find Jack staring at her. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want to. She wanted to reach for him, or better yet, for him to reach for her. The last thing she wanted was for this moment to end.

Still trying to catch her breath, she ran her tongue over her lips. He squeezed his eyes shut. She didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell rapidly or how his hands were clenched into fists.

She waited until his eyes were open before speaking. “Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow. Imagine how much fun we could have if I stayed.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he muttered and took another step back. “Goodbye, Kelsey.”

Frustrated, and—if she was being honest with herself—relieved, she straightened. She’d managed to crack Jack’s rigid control—and had the added bonus of the best kiss of her life—but he obviously didn’t want to pursue this.

Which was for the best, really. Even if she couldn’t help but wonder how good they’d be together.

Well, at least she hadn’t begged him to take her home. Which meant she still had her pride. And while pride wouldn’t keep her warm tonight, wouldn’t keep the loneliness at bay, it would help make her exit a bit more dignified.

“Goodbye, Jack.”

She got into her car, turned on the ignition and did the smartest thing she’d ever done in her life. She drove away.



HE RUBBED THE BACK OF HIS NECK and glanced at his watch. 4:00 a.m. Jack’s grim reflection stared back at him from the large picture window in Mark and Shannon Crandall’s living room. He knew death was inevitable, just as he knew murder was inescapable. But the past few years in Serenity Springs had somehow lulled him into a false sense of security. Tonight he’d been shoved back into reality.

The house was quiet, the air thick and permeated with the coppery scent of blood.

He turned slowly and took in the stark room. White walls. White carpet. White furniture. A small black end table and a matching coffee table in the center of the room. Black-and-white photos of city skylines were framed in black and lined up with military precision on the wall behind the love seat.

The only splashes of color came from a few shiny red pillows on the sofa, a dozen long-stemmed roses on the end table and the bright red apples in a black bowl on the coffee table.

And the pool of blood staining the plush carpet beneath Shannon Crandall’s head.

Jack crouched down. The position of the body—facedown between the sofa and coffee table, left leg slightly bent, arms splayed to the side—indicated she’d been hit from behind. Had she known she was in danger? Been trying to run away from her assailant?

It was obvious she was naked beneath the short, silky black robe she had on. Her pale hair was wild and tangled, matted with blood and brain matter. Jack shifted and forced himself not to cringe at the extent of damage done to Shannon’s once lovely face. He scanned the area around the body, noting several streaks of mud and a partial muddy footprint on the floor.

He straightened. “What happened?”

Officer Ben Michaels wiped a trembling hand over his mouth. “I received an emergency call approximately thirty minutes ago. I arrived at the residence and found…” His gaze dropped to the dead body on the floor, his face losing color.

“Deep breath, Michaels,” Jack commanded and physically turned the kid away from the body. Why did it seem like the least competent person in the department was always the first to arrive on the scene? “Who called it in?”

“The victim’s husband.” Michaels’s light-brown hair stood on end as if he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it. Sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip. But at least he no longer seemed in danger of puking or passing out. “He’s in the other room.”

Jack glanced at the doorway that led to the brightly lit kitchen. “Did you discover any signs of forced entry?”

“No, sir. Mr. Crandall let me in. He said he spoke to his wife on the phone around one-thirty to let her know he was coming home early from a business trip. He said the door was locked when he arrived. He used his key to gain entry, found the victim and called 911. The EMTs arrived a few minutes after I did.”

“Did anyone touch the body?” he asked, hoping no one had compromised the crime scene. “Did anyone move the body? Touch anything in the room?”

Michaels shook his head and shoved his hands into the bulky pockets of his police-issue Windbreaker. His gaze once again strayed to Shannon. “No, sir. Once the EMTs arrived and it was obvious Shan…I mean the victim was…gone…the EMTs escorted Mr. Crandall into the kitchen while I waited for backup.”

Jack nodded. Considering this was undoubtedly Michaels’s first murder scene, he’d done surprisingly well. Poor kid was taking it hard, though. Hell, the entire town was going to take the murder of one of their own hard. Serenity Springs was known for skiing, tourism and small-town charm. There was hardly a bevy of criminal activity.

Which was why Jack had returned here to raise his daughter in the first place.

Thank God Emma was with her grandparents. Knowing she was being taken care of, knowing she was safe, made it a hell of a lot easier for him to focus on his job.

Especially when his job was to track down a murderer.

“Good work,” Jack told Michaels. “Now I need you to go outside and help canvass the yard. Don’t overlook anything, no matter how insignificant it might seem.”

“Yes, sir,” Michaels said, clearly relieved.

“Medical examiner’s on his way, Chief,” Officer Nick Pascale said as he joined Jack. Unlike Michaels, the burly, gray-haired Pascale barely looked at Shannon’s body. He handed Jack the department’s camera kit. “State police have been notified as well.”

“Good. Who’s in the kitchen with Crandall?”

“Flick and the EMTs.”

Jack turned on the digital camera and recorded the date, time and his location on the front page of his notebook. “Make sure they all stay in the kitchen. I don’t want any foot traffic in this room unless it’s absolutely necessary. And if Crandall so much as has to take a piss, he’s escorted, got it?”

“Will do.” Pascale nodded toward Shannon. “Terrible thing to happen to such a pretty girl.”

Jack’s stomach twisted as he looked down at her lifeless body through the camera’s viewfinder. “Terrible thing to happen to anyone.”

Pascale lowered his voice. “The husband seems pretty shook up. You think it’s an act?”

“That’s what we need to find out, isn’t it?”

Pascale made a grunt of affirmation. Clicking the shutter, Jack flashed back to when Shannon had come on to him at The Summit. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Shannon fooled around on her husband, or that Mark preferred to turn a blind eye to his wife’s infidelities.

Had that changed tonight? Had Shannon’s unfaithfulness pushed her husband to do the unthinkable?

And what about the man Shannon had left the bar with? Had the ex-convict lost control of the violence Jack sensed lurked just beneath the surface? Dillon Ward had killed before. It wasn’t much of a stretch to think he was capable of taking a woman’s life.

As he methodically snapped pictures, Jack couldn’t help but remember the kiss he and Kelsey had shared.

He lowered the camera fractionally and clenched his jaw. Damn it, he never should have touched her.

Didn’t matter, he assured himself as he raised the camera. By the time he was through processing the scene and went to question Ward, Kelsey would be long gone.




CHAPTER FOUR


KELSEY SMOOTHED A HAND over her jittery stomach before inhaling deeply and knocking on the door to Dillon’s apartment. She’d almost left town, had made it as far as the highway before deciding to try one more time to get through to her brother. She needed to tell him how sorry she was for her part in sending him to prison.

And she needed him to listen. But, even if he did blow her off again, she wasn’t giving up. She’d simply go back to Manhattan and regroup.

Lifting her hand to knock again, she heard footsteps and the door opened. Her heart sank. Dillon looked like hell. Heavy stubble coated his cheeks and chin, his eyes were bloodshot and he had a serious case of bed head.

He looked like their stepfather used to after one of his many benders.

She swallowed her disappointment. God, how she wished his life had turned out differently.

It would have turned out differently, she reminded herself, if it hadn’t been for her.

“I thought you were gone.” Dillon’s voice was husky, as if she’d woken him up. Possible, since it was barely seven-thirty on a Saturday.

“I’m leaving,” she said, pushing past him, but her entrance was ruined when she stumbled over a pair of work boots by the door. She kicked them to the side and stepped over several small clumps of mud littering the floor.

“Come on in,” he said wryly as he shut the door.

Kelsey crossed to the small, round kitchen table. “I just need ten minutes.”

“I told you yesterday—”

“Please, Dillon. I swear, after ten minutes, after you hear me out, if you still want me to leave, I’ll go. You’ll never have to see me again.”

She held her breath while he studied her. Time had matured him. Besides his broader shoulders, his face was much leaner. But his eyes, those incredible hazel eyes of his, were the same.

This was the same brother who had loved her.

“Ten minutes.” He went to the sink and began filling a coffeepot with water. “Then you’re gone.”

She pressed her lips together and sat at one of the two chairs at his table. While he measured out coffee, she looked around the apartment. It was small and sparsely furnished. No clutter on the counters, no pictures or photographs on the walls. No magnets or notes littering the refrigerator. Pretty much just like her own apartment.

And how sad was that?

“This is a nice place,” she lied.

Dillon snorted. “It’s a regular penthouse.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“Long enough.”

She forced a smile even though Dillon had yet to look up from the coffee dripping into the pot. “Smells good up here. Must be nice living over a bakery. Bet you get all the day-old stuff half price, huh?”

He finally lifted his head. “You’re rambling.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Yeah, well, I ramble when I’m nervous.”

He grunted and replaced the pot with a mug so the brewing coffee dripped directly into it. Poured coffee into a second mug before putting the pot back and set one in front of her. “I remember.”

And for some stupid, inconceivable reason, those two little words made her eyes fill with tears. Luckily, Dillon turned back to the coffeepot and she was able to blink away the offensive moisture before he noticed.

He pulled the other chair out and sat down. “Why don’t you—”

A knock at the door cut him off. Dillon swore under his breach and went to answer it, his body blocking Kelsey’s view.

“Holy God,” he said to the person on the other side. “Could this morning get any worse?”

“I need you to come to the station with me.”

Kelsey froze. She recognized that voice. It had haunted her dreams last night. Well, maybe not her dreams, more like her fantasies.

Dillon opened the door more fully. “I’d love to, Chief. But I’m afraid I have company.”

Jack entered the room, his gaze zeroing in on her. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s leaving,” Dillon said, before she could speak, “in approximately four minutes.”

Jack frowned and turned his attention back to Dillon. “She’s leaving now. And you’re coming with me.”

Dillon sipped his coffee, leaned back against the counter and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. “What’s this about?”

Jack quickly studied the room, then stared at a spot by the door. “Are those your boots?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you wearing them last night?” Dillon straightened. “Why?”

Jack looked at Kelsey as he said, “We can discuss it at the station.”

She fought a growing sense of unease. “I think you should discuss it now.”

“This doesn’t concern you, ma’am,” Jack said.

Ma’am? Last night the man had kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her and now he was back to calling her ma’am?

She looked out the open door. A uniformed officer stood on the top of the stairs. Her unease turned into full-blown panic. “If it involves my brother, then it does concern me.”

“Take it easy,” Dillon murmured to her. “Am I under arrest, Chief?”

“I just want to ask you a few questions about last night.”

“Ask away,” Dillon said mildly.

“Where were you this morning between the hours of midnight and two-thirty?”

“I was here.”

“Can anybody verify that?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I, along with numerous other witnesses, including your sister here—” Jack nodded toward Kelsey “—saw you leave The Summit bar with Shannon Crandall.”

“So?”

“Were you in Mrs. Crandall’s house?”

“I stopped by there—to pick up a check.”

“Did you and Mrs. Crandall argue?” Kelsey couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “What’s this about?”

Jack kept his eyes on Dillon. “Shannon Crandall was found murdered this morning.”

Her stomach turned. “What? Oh my God. But, I don’t understand.” She looked from Jack to Dillon as they attempted to stare each other down. Jack’s face was unreadable, while Dillon’s expression grew darker with each passing moment. “What does this have to do with Dillon?”

“Don’t you get it?” Dillon ground out harshly when Jack remained silent. “I’m their number-one suspect.”



JACK SHUT THE DOOR TO the booking-interrogation room after taking Ward’s statement, leaving Pascale in the room with their suspect. Alone in the hallway, he leaned against the cold beige wall and stared at the scuffed linoleum floor.

Two hours of questioning and they hadn’t managed to shake Ward’s story or, better yet, get him to confess.

Ward had been nothing if not cool and calm during the past two hours. No matter how hard Jack had grilled him, he’d stuck to his story unflinchingly, his expression giving none of his thoughts away.

And, as much as Jack would like to blame the lack of progress on Ward’s stoic personality, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his own fault. If coming back to Serenity Springs had somehow dulled his edge as an interrogator. An edge he’d honed carefully during his four years as detective.

With little physical evidence—and no murder weapon—no eyewitnesses to the actual crime, and no confession, he didn’t have a strong enough reason to charge Ward with murder. Yet.

Jack walked past the empty holding cells and down the main hallway. As he placed his hand on the doorknob to the break room, Ben Michaels came barreling around the corner.

“Chief,” the kid called as he hurried down the hall.

Jack sighed. “What’s the problem?”

“Dora Wilkins is here…out front. She wants a statement.”

Jack rubbed his temples. Because not only was Dora editor in chief of the local newspaper, the Serenity Springs Gazette, she was also their lead reporter. And a huge pain in Jack’s ass.

He ground his back teeth together. Hell, he’d hoped for a few minutes alone. Time to make a quick phone call to his inlaws and check in on Emma. “Put Dora in my office. Tell her I’ll—”

“I can’t do that,” Michaels blurted. “Why not?”

Michaels’s protruding Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. “I’ve already put my mom…uh…I mean, the mayor in your office.”

Great. Not only did he have a murderer to find and an overzealous reporter to get rid of, but he also had to take time to coddle and reassure Mayor Michaels.

Sometimes, he really hated his job.

“Does Dora know the mayor is here?” Jack asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Keep it that way. Let the mayor know I’ll be in to see her in five minutes. Then put Dora in the front office. Tell her I’ll give her an official statement in half an hour. Any word from the district attorney?”

“He’s in court this morning, but he’s supposed to call as soon as he has a recess.”

Jack turned to the break room door. “Let me know the minute he calls.”

“Uh, Chief…”

Jack bit back a curse. “Yeah?”

“That woman, the one who was at the accused’s apartment—”

“He’s not the accused. He hasn’t been charged.”

“Right. Uh, anyway, she showed up here after we brought Mr. Ward in.” He lowered his voice and gestured to the door. “She’s waiting in there.”

Of course she was.

So far he’d managed to put Kelsey—and the stricken expression on her face when he’d escorted her brother to a police car—out of his mind. Naturally he would now have to face her, to be reminded of the way he’d lost control and kissed her.

Kissing her had been a mistake. He just hadn’t expected it to reach this magnitude of mistake-dom. After all, last night she’d simply been a sexy stranger. A woman who’d attracted him.

Today, she was the sister of a murder suspect.

“Better make it fifteen minutes before I get to the mayor,” Jack said. “And no one on staff talks to Dora. No statements. No theories. Nothing. If she so much as asks for the time, the answer is ‘no comment.’ Understand me?”

Michaels bobbed his head. “Yes, sir.”

Jack pushed the door open.

Kelsey, in the act of pacing behind the long, scarred rectangular table, whirled to face him. “It’s about time. Can my brother leave now?”

Ignoring her question—and the way her scent wrapped around him—he headed to the coffeemaker. After pouring the inky liquid into a disposable cup and adding a generous amount of powdered creamer, he grabbed the bottle of pain relievers from the counter.

After downing three pills, he looked at her. Held up his cup. “Want some?”

“I don’t want any coffee,” she snapped. “I want answers.”

He sat at the table. “Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.”

He wasn’t about to discuss anything while she hovered over him like a damn storm cloud. Jack sipped his coffee and watched her steadily over the rim of his cup.

It didn’t take long for her to get the message. She huffed out a breath before sliding a chair out with her foot and perching on the edge of her seat.

“Where’s Dillon?” she asked.

“He’s signing his statement.”

She visibly paled. “A statement? He’s giving a statement without a lawyer present?”

“You’ve been watching too many television cop shows. He doesn’t need a lawyer—”

“Anytime someone gets dragged down to the police station, they need a lawyer.”

“He wasn’t dragged anywhere. He came willingly. And he doesn’t need a lawyer because he’s not under arrest.”

She stood. “Great. That means he’s free to leave.”

He was, but if there was a legal way to hold Ward, one that wouldn’t jeopardize any future charges against him, Jack would do it in a heartbeat.

“We’re not charging him,” he admitted. “You might want to convince him it would be in his best interest not to take any sudden trips out of town.”

Her eyes narrowed to green slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your brother is a person of interest in an ongoing murder investigation. It wouldn’t look good if he were to suddenly disappear.”

“This is ridiculous.” She slapped her hands down on the table and leaned toward him. “You’re harassing him for no reason.”

He met her eyes, eyebrow raised. “Murder is a pretty good reason, don’t you think?”

A flush reddened her cheeks. “Look, just because Dillon was seen leaving the bar at the same time as that woman—”

“That woman had a name,” he said quietly. “And now she’s dead.”

Kelsey swallowed and something shifted in her eyes, but she didn’t back down. “You’re looking to pin this murder on someone and Dillon is a convenient target.”

He finished his coffee and prayed for the painkillers to kick in soon. “Are you insinuating the only reason we brought your brother in for questioning is because he’s killed before?”

She flinched and straightened quickly, a guilty expression on her face. Did being reminded of her brother’s past upset her so much? Or, could it be that despite her protests, she was worried Ward could be guilty of this murder, too?

“Is this how you run an investigation?” she asked. “Placing blame on someone because of their past?”

“If that person’s past is significant—which in this case it most certainly is.” He rested his arms on the table and clasped his hands together. “You have to face facts. Your brother was the last known person to see Shannon alive.”

“He didn’t kill her. I know he didn’t.”

“He’s already admitted he followed Shannon home.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“He also admits he and Shannon argued.”

That shut her up. But only for a minute. “Doesn’t matter. You’re looking at the wrong person.”

“For your sake,” he said sincerely, “I hope you’re right.”

He rose and tossed his empty cup in the trash. For some reason that he didn’t want to examine too deeply, he hated the thought of her being involved in this mess.

“You know,” he said, “the best thing you could do is forget all of this. Go home, go back to your life.”

“I want to see my brother. Now.”

Damn, but she was stubborn. And loyal. How would she take it once that loyalty to her brother was proved unfounded?

“I’m sure Ward is almost ready to leave,” he said. “I can send someone in to get you—”

“Don’t bother.” She stalked past him and opened the door. “Just tell Dillon I’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot.”

Before she could leave, Jack caught her by the wrist. “I’m telling you, for your own good, you don’t want to get tangled up in this, Kelsey. Go home.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he dropped her wrist and walked out the door.



IN THE SMALL PARKING LOT behind the police station, Jack’s parting words played through Kelsey’s mind as she paced under the midday sun. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going anywhere.

She needed to stay and help prove Dillon’s innocence. To make sure he wasn’t railroaded for a crime he didn’t commit. No way would she sit back and do nothing while her brother went to prison.

Not again.

The door opened and Dillon walked outside followed by a flabby, middle-aged cop. God, how many times growing up had the situation been reversed? How many times had she been escorted out of the local police station only to find Dillon waiting for her?

Too many. Way too many. After all, she’d been the juvenile delinquent.

Dillon must’ve read her mind because when he noticed her he said, “Just like old times, huh?”

“Not funny.” She fell into step beside him, aware of the cop following close behind them. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

Dillon shook his head. “I’m not going home.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the hospital.”

“What?” She stopped and grabbed his arm. “Are you hurt? Did they do something to you?”

“Relax,” he said, peeling her fingers off him. “They didn’t break out the rubber hoses. I’m going to submit a DNA sample.”

“Voluntarily?”

His gaze flicked to the cop who now stood about thirty feet away next to a police cruiser. “Sort of.”

While she wasn’t sure it was in his best interest to submit a sample, she bit her tongue. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, thanks.”

Okay. He obviously still didn’t want her around. Too damn bad. “Look, I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.” He grimaced. “I don’t like it.”

“Tough. And what the hell are you thinking? Bad enough you’re going to give them DNA, but I can’t believe you gave them a statement without an attorney present.”

“I don’t need an attorney. I didn’t do it.”

“I know that,” she said, but nothing changed in his eyes or on his face. No visible relief at knowing she believed in him. “What about the local public defender?”

He walked away, his long strides forcing her to hurry to keep up. “They offered to call him in, but I refused.”

“Don’t worry. If they insist on continuing with this bogus investigation, we’ll hire the best defense attorney—”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

He stopped and frowned down at her. “I don’t want or need your help. There’s no reason for you to get involved. Or to stick around.”

Kelsey slid a glance to the cop, not fooled by the way he stared straight ahead. She knew he was hanging on their every word.

She lowered her voice. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“It’s been a long time, Kelsey.” Dillon sent her a cool look. “I’m not the same person I was back then and I’m not your problem to worry about.”

“You’re my brother,” she said softly around the tears clogging her throat. “I love you.”

She read something in his eyes. Something that looked like regret. Or perhaps, sadness. Whatever it was, it told her Dillon wasn’t as unaffected by her words as he’d like her to believe.

“You shouldn’t,” he said simply, a breeze ruffling his hair. “You need to go back to your life and forget about me.”

He climbed in the back of the police car. The cop shut the door, got in the front and drove away.

Kelsey slowly made her way across the parking lot to her car. She climbed in, started it and pulled out into the street. She made it three blocks before she had to pull over. Gripping the steering wheel with shaking hands, she battled back her tears.

She wiped her eyes. She’d help prove Dillon’s innocence because, damn it, he was innocent.





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