Booked to Kill, page 22
Using all her strength, she turned toward the person sitting in the chair next to the bed she lay in. “Jack?” His name stuck in her dry mouth.
Jack jerked to attention, then leaned forward. The dark scruff on his jaw seemed more pronounced and a river of lines creased his forehead. “I’m right here,” he said, his eyes filled with worry. “You’re awake.”
Shifting, she grimaced as stabs of discomfort rippled along her side. She tried to recall the events that had brought her here, but the harder she tried, the more the memories blurred. “Mason took me to the loft. I hit him, then ran. I don’t remember anything else.”
He dropped his gaze to their joined hands. “Do you really want to know?”
She nodded. She needed to know the details, no matter how hard they were to hear. Not only to have closure but also to know if the words of love buzzing through her brain had actually been spoken or were just a dream.
Jack drew in a deep breath. “When I got to the loft, I heard a gunshot. By the time I was inside, Mason had just shot you. He’d picked you up. I thought I was too late.” His voice caught, and he coughed to cover the crack.
“But you weren’t. I’m a little beat-up but fine.” She fought not to wince. He needed to see she was all right. That she wasn’t another casualty he would blame himself for. She might have a physical wound, but he’d been wounded too. And she was the only one who could fix him. “You saved me.”
He glanced up and the pain and concern shining from his watering eyes stole her breath. “You saved yourself. You bit his hand. If you hadn’t acted, I don’t know how I would have taken him down. You’re a warrior, Olivia Hickman.”
A faint memory fluttered back to her; the sweaty taste of Mason’s hand combined with fear flooded her senses. His praise heated her cheeks. “You made me brave. I knew that if you were there, you’d make sure everything was okay. I just set things into motion.”
“You give me too much credit,” he said, looking up at the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose. He blinked, keeping his tears from falling.
“You don’t give yourself enough.” She yanked at his hand, making him look at her. “I heard you. You told me you love me. Those words stayed with me until I woke up. You stayed with me. From the time you showed up in the loft until I woke in this bed and everything in between. You kept me going.”
“I’ve never been so damn scared.”
“Me neither,” she said with a short laugh. “And I want you to know, I love you. Even if you only said those words to me because you were scared and filled with adrenaline and didn’t know if I would live or die. I loved you when we spent the night together and was just too nervous and insecure to tell you. I hope I don’t scare you now, but life is too damn short to hide things in my heart. I know it’s fast and crazy and—”
Jack pressed his lips to hers, pulling away and catching her chin in his loose grip. His face was so close, his breath warm on her cheeks. “I didn’t tell you I love you because I was terrified of losing you. I said it because I mean it. And I was kicking myself for not telling you how I felt when I had the chance. I’m sorry I made you doubt where we stood. I’ll never leave you questioning how much you mean to me.”
Happiness flooded her chest, pressing against her insides until she nearly burst. “Can we get out of here? Not exactly the romantic moment I envisioned.” Sure, fire burned a path up her side, but she’d rather deal with that somewhere a little more private.
“Sorry.” He scrunched his nose and sat back down, recapturing her palm in his. “You had a small surgery to remove the bullet. You have at least one night here.”
The mention of bullets sent another memory flitting to the surface. She bolted upright, and throbbing from her wound had her doubling over. “Christine! Edward!” she said through clenched teeth. “Are they okay?”
“They’ll both be fine. You can’t get riled up.” Jack was back on his feet, his wary stare on the machine beeping beside her. “I went to the gallery before I realized Mason took you to the loft. I found them and called for medical help. They were rushed to the hospital. Edward has a concussion. Christine underwent emergency surgery, and she must have hit her head pretty bad when she fell. It was touch and go but she made it through.”
Relief pressed against her sinus cavity, and tears blurred her vision. “They’re here? Can I see them?” The last images she had of her friends were ones she’d rather forget. Although that would never happen, at least she could replace the horrible memory with new ones of them both on the mend.
“You’ll have to ask your doctor about that,” he said. “But when you’re able, I’ll take you to see them myself. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight.”
She sank back onto the mattress and smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
Jack trailed his knuckles along her cheekbone. “I mean it. I told myself I’d stay by your side until the danger was over. But even if Mason is behind bars, I still want you near. As often as is possible.”
She wasn’t sure what all that entailed, but the idea of spending more time with Jack lifted her lips and her soul. A sense of peace settled over her like a warm blanket. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to go back to that apartment and the loft holds too many bad memories. I want you to stay with me.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, unsure of what to say. “You want me to live with you?”
Grinning, he gave a little shrug. “Let’s just call it a detour while you figure out your next step. I don’t want you to feel pressured to make any big decisions right now. You need to rest and heal. And I want to get to know you inside and out, while you do.”
“What about your roommate? Won’t he mind?”
“Nah. Nolan works all the time anyway. We’re like two passing ships. But if you aren’t ready, that’s okay.”
Her smile stretched her face so wide it hurt the corners of her mouth. “I never thought I’d be this happy again. You’ve shown me life goes on and finding love again is possible. You were there when I needed you most. I’ll never be able to tell you how much you’ve given me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed a long kiss to her forehead. He reared back an inch, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “You brought me back to life, Liv. We’ve both walked a somber path. Now let’s be happy...together.”
* * *
Jack stepped out of the home office with boxes stacked waist-high and slipped his phone back in the front pocket of his jeans. The room would have been great for setting up a desk and storing old files. But the light pouring through the multiple windows in the corner demanded it become Olivia’s new studio.
A sacrifice he would gladly make, shoving his desk and work-related things in a living room that was double the size he’d left behind at his old place.
“Hey, babe,” Olivia said. She sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, dipping into a box and pulling out more bubble-wrapped plates. “I hope we have enough room for everything. Who knew we had so much stuff?” She beamed up at him, her smile quickly falling. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around the small of her back to hold her close. “Nothing’s wrong. I just got off the phone with Max.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Mason’s trial ended today.”
After Olivia had testified the day before, she’d decided not to stick around. Facing Mason had been too difficult. “Max filled me in on what happened. Do you want to know?”
She nodded.
He glanced around their new apartment, wishing their furniture had arrived so they could sit somewhere other than the tile floor in the kitchen. “He’ll be in jail a long time. Charged in the deaths of Courtney Bailey, Priscilla Abbington, and Dave.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Tremors shook her body, and she buried her head in his shoulder.
He let her cry. The past four months since she’d healed from her surgery had been filled with plenty of questions and worry. He’d stood by Olivia as she learned more about Mason’s intentions and how he’d orchestrated multiple murders in a sick attempt to get close to her. He’d confessed to killing Courtney and Priscilla as a way to remove intruders from what he viewed as his home—snapping after his grandmother passed and the home he’d known as a child was no longer there. He also admitted to following Dave and Olivia to Cold Spring, mowing him down with a rented vehicle when the opportunity presented itself.
Sniffing back her emotion, she smoothed her hands over his chest. “I can’t believe it’s officially over. He destroyed so many lives, and for what? How could he really believe I would love him?”
Jack shrugged. “I’ll never understand why some people do what they do. Luckily, my job is just to stop them. But I do know, as much heartbreak as he dealt you, you survived.”
She smiled. “More than survived. I found you, and you’ve brought me more joy than I thought possible.”
Jack glanced down at the box by his feet and the shiny edge of a frame poking through its wrapping. “What’s this?” he asked, bending down to scoop it up and unwrap a silver frame. A photo of Olivia and Dave holding hands, gazing into a sunset stared up at them.
She cringed. “Sorry. When the loft sold, I just packed everything I wanted and threw it in storage. I haven’t gone through everything yet.”
He rubbed his thumb over the smooth glass and a little sadness twisted his insides. “You have nothing to apologize for. You and Dave shared an amazing love, and that made you who you are today. You never have to shield me from any part of the life you two shared.”
Her eyes widened, and she slid her arms to loop around his neck. “Thank you. How did I get so lucky to find you?”
A knock on the door turned his gaze toward the entryway. The door swung open, and Jason poked his head inside. “Hello? I’ve got some more stuff.”
Jack raised his brows and aimed a pointed stare at Olivia. “I thought we locked that.”
She scrunched up her nose. “I gave him a spare. Come on.” She pulled him out of the kitchen to the front door.
Clara and Christine pushed past Jason, each offering her a hug and Jack a wave.
“Where can I put this?” Jason asked, arms loaded down with a large rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.
“In the living room.” Jack captured Olivia’s hand and pulled her along behind him.
“Did you hear anything about Mason yet?” Christine asked. She leaned on a cane; her limp not as pronounced as it’d been right after she’d been released from the hospital.
“Convicted for all three murders,” Olivia said. “Including Dave’s.”
Jason propped the package against a wall, then straightened. He frowned, his hazel eyes a myriad of relief and lingering grief. “Good. Dave deserves justice. I just wish I would have listened to you, Olivia. I could have helped stop this before anyone else was hurt.”
Clara stepped up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “No more blame. Now is the time for healing. For all of us.”
The smile on Olivia’s face as she watched her brother and sister-in-law warmed Jack’s heart. He was glad the two of them were working on their marriage, and he agreed with Clara. Blame wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Good point, Clara. And thanks for bringing this over. I want it to be the very first thing that goes up in our new apartment.”
Olivia shifted her weight to her tiptoes, trying to get a peek. “What is it?”
Jack tugged her forward. “Open it.”
She jerked at the paper and revealed the painting she’d created so many months ago. The one that had spoken to him on such an emotional level, he couldn’t tear his attention from it. He’d had it encased in a golden frame, and hoped she’d agree to make it a focal point on the deep blue walls.
A small smile played on her lips, and she turned to him with curiosity creasing her brow. “What did you do?”
“The first time I saw this painting, I saw you. I saw everything that was inside of you, and everything I wanted to know more of. I saw your sadness and your joy. Your kindness and your grief. I saw your heart and your soul.” He framed her face with his hand, using the pad of his thumb to swipe away a lingering tear. “I meant what I said about your past making you who you are, and I love every single part of you. This picture symbolizes all those parts. It’s a constant reminder that we are taking our hurts and heartbreak and mixing them with love and hope.”
She leaned into him. The tears from earlier now slipping over the slopes of her face. “Oh, Jack. I love it. And I love you. I couldn’t think of a more perfect thing to put in our home.”
He kissed her forehead and breathed in the smell of her. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus and home. She had given him so much in such a short time. She’d given him love and redemption and the promise of a bright future filled with all the happiness in the world.
* * *
Check out these other great murder mysteries from
Harlequin Romantic Suspense:
Danger in Big Sky Country
By Kimberly Van Meter
Killer in the Heartland
By Carla Cassidy
Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly
By Marie Ferrarella
Available now wherever
Harlequin Romantic Suspense books
and ebooks are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton’s Ultimate Test by Beth Cornelison.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Danger. Passion. Drama.
These heart-racing page-turners will keep you guessing to the very end. Experience the thrill of unexpected plot twists and irresistible chemistry.
4 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Colton’s Ultimate Test
by Beth Cornelison
Chapter 1
Last January
“A toast to th’ bir’day girl!”
“To Lorie!” Morgan Colton raised her nearly empty glass, joining her friends in Helen’s salute.
“Girl?” Connie asked with a snort. “Lorie hasn’t been a girl for a looong time. It’s woman, thank you.”
The table of women had been drinking to Lorie, who was turning forty, all night, but what was one more toast? The clink of glasses seemed loud in the now nearly empty bar. With it being closing time on a cold January night, Morgan and her friends had the place almost to themselves.
Morgan leaned over to whisper to her friend Stacy. “Connie gets more feminist when she’s drunk, doesn’t she?”
Stacy nodded and laughed.
Morgan had never been a frequent customer at the Corner Pocket, the English pub-style billiards bar poised on a choice riverfront location in downtown Blue Larkspur, Colorado. The bar was more her brothers’ kind of place. But Helen had arranged the night out and had picked the pub for the celebration, and Morgan approved. The place had a coziness to it. And good food. And plenty of libations. She could see why her brothers like the place. Or maybe that was just the margaritas talking...
“Hey!” Lorie replied with a frown to Connie as all the ladies around the table sipped their drinks. “Are you calling me old?”
Connie paused, gave the black Mylar “Over the Hill” balloon tied to Lorie’s chair a meaningful glance and with a wry grin said, “Yep.”
Helen raised a hand. “Billy’s shift ends at eleven. By midnight I plan to have him naked.”
Stacy hooted a laugh. “Way to go, Helen!” Then, rocking her shoulders as if proud of herself, Stacy pointed a manicured finger across the bar to a patron at another table. “I think I’m taking that fine thang home with me. He’s been watching me since he came in.”
Morgan blinked and cast a glance over shoulder at the man in question. “Stacy, are you sure you want to do that? Do you even know him?”
Stacy flapped a hand at her. “Colton, you worry too much. Of course I know him. He’s my future husband.” Helen cackled and high-fived Stacy.
“I mean, are you—”
She grabbed Morgan’s wrist. “I know what y’ mean. I appreciate your concern, mama hen. I’m a big girl.”
“Woman!” Connie insisted.
“I’ll be careful,” Stacy said, giving Morgan a smile. “You should try a one-night stand sometime. It’s very freeing. No strings. No commitments. No regrets.”
Morgan twisted her mouth, considering Stacy’s stance. She’d never felt comfortable assuming the same casualness toward sex as her friend. She wanted what Lorie had. A husband, a home. Permanence. Love.
And, as they’d all been reminded tonight, thanks to Lorie’s birthday, she wasn’t getting any younger. She’d turn forty next year. She’d let years slip by, put her dreams of a husband and family on hold while she helped raise her brood of brothers and sisters after an accident had claimed their father when the youngest girls were barely six.
Mama hen, Stacy had called her, because of her tendency to extend that motherly nurturing to her friends as well. Chicken soup and cookies when they were sick. A shoulder to cry on when needed. And more than a little advice concerning everything from clothes to business contracts.
She couldn’t help it. As the oldest of twelve—well, technically Caleb was ten minutes older—she came by her take-charge, order-and-structure attitude naturally. But the babies of the family, Alexa and Naomi, were strong, competent women with careers who no longer needed her mothering. Maybe it was time—past time—to consider what she wanted her life to look like in the years to come. The law firm she and Caleb owned, Colton and Colton, filled her days, satisfied her professional yearnings. But what about her nights? Her more intimate yearnings? And, yes, her physical needs. Maybe she did need a wild night of no-strings sex to satisfy her—
Jack jerked to attention, then leaned forward. The dark scruff on his jaw seemed more pronounced and a river of lines creased his forehead. “I’m right here,” he said, his eyes filled with worry. “You’re awake.”
Shifting, she grimaced as stabs of discomfort rippled along her side. She tried to recall the events that had brought her here, but the harder she tried, the more the memories blurred. “Mason took me to the loft. I hit him, then ran. I don’t remember anything else.”
He dropped his gaze to their joined hands. “Do you really want to know?”
She nodded. She needed to know the details, no matter how hard they were to hear. Not only to have closure but also to know if the words of love buzzing through her brain had actually been spoken or were just a dream.
Jack drew in a deep breath. “When I got to the loft, I heard a gunshot. By the time I was inside, Mason had just shot you. He’d picked you up. I thought I was too late.” His voice caught, and he coughed to cover the crack.
“But you weren’t. I’m a little beat-up but fine.” She fought not to wince. He needed to see she was all right. That she wasn’t another casualty he would blame himself for. She might have a physical wound, but he’d been wounded too. And she was the only one who could fix him. “You saved me.”
He glanced up and the pain and concern shining from his watering eyes stole her breath. “You saved yourself. You bit his hand. If you hadn’t acted, I don’t know how I would have taken him down. You’re a warrior, Olivia Hickman.”
A faint memory fluttered back to her; the sweaty taste of Mason’s hand combined with fear flooded her senses. His praise heated her cheeks. “You made me brave. I knew that if you were there, you’d make sure everything was okay. I just set things into motion.”
“You give me too much credit,” he said, looking up at the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose. He blinked, keeping his tears from falling.
“You don’t give yourself enough.” She yanked at his hand, making him look at her. “I heard you. You told me you love me. Those words stayed with me until I woke up. You stayed with me. From the time you showed up in the loft until I woke in this bed and everything in between. You kept me going.”
“I’ve never been so damn scared.”
“Me neither,” she said with a short laugh. “And I want you to know, I love you. Even if you only said those words to me because you were scared and filled with adrenaline and didn’t know if I would live or die. I loved you when we spent the night together and was just too nervous and insecure to tell you. I hope I don’t scare you now, but life is too damn short to hide things in my heart. I know it’s fast and crazy and—”
Jack pressed his lips to hers, pulling away and catching her chin in his loose grip. His face was so close, his breath warm on her cheeks. “I didn’t tell you I love you because I was terrified of losing you. I said it because I mean it. And I was kicking myself for not telling you how I felt when I had the chance. I’m sorry I made you doubt where we stood. I’ll never leave you questioning how much you mean to me.”
Happiness flooded her chest, pressing against her insides until she nearly burst. “Can we get out of here? Not exactly the romantic moment I envisioned.” Sure, fire burned a path up her side, but she’d rather deal with that somewhere a little more private.
“Sorry.” He scrunched his nose and sat back down, recapturing her palm in his. “You had a small surgery to remove the bullet. You have at least one night here.”
The mention of bullets sent another memory flitting to the surface. She bolted upright, and throbbing from her wound had her doubling over. “Christine! Edward!” she said through clenched teeth. “Are they okay?”
“They’ll both be fine. You can’t get riled up.” Jack was back on his feet, his wary stare on the machine beeping beside her. “I went to the gallery before I realized Mason took you to the loft. I found them and called for medical help. They were rushed to the hospital. Edward has a concussion. Christine underwent emergency surgery, and she must have hit her head pretty bad when she fell. It was touch and go but she made it through.”
Relief pressed against her sinus cavity, and tears blurred her vision. “They’re here? Can I see them?” The last images she had of her friends were ones she’d rather forget. Although that would never happen, at least she could replace the horrible memory with new ones of them both on the mend.
“You’ll have to ask your doctor about that,” he said. “But when you’re able, I’ll take you to see them myself. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight.”
She sank back onto the mattress and smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
Jack trailed his knuckles along her cheekbone. “I mean it. I told myself I’d stay by your side until the danger was over. But even if Mason is behind bars, I still want you near. As often as is possible.”
She wasn’t sure what all that entailed, but the idea of spending more time with Jack lifted her lips and her soul. A sense of peace settled over her like a warm blanket. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to go back to that apartment and the loft holds too many bad memories. I want you to stay with me.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, unsure of what to say. “You want me to live with you?”
Grinning, he gave a little shrug. “Let’s just call it a detour while you figure out your next step. I don’t want you to feel pressured to make any big decisions right now. You need to rest and heal. And I want to get to know you inside and out, while you do.”
“What about your roommate? Won’t he mind?”
“Nah. Nolan works all the time anyway. We’re like two passing ships. But if you aren’t ready, that’s okay.”
Her smile stretched her face so wide it hurt the corners of her mouth. “I never thought I’d be this happy again. You’ve shown me life goes on and finding love again is possible. You were there when I needed you most. I’ll never be able to tell you how much you’ve given me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed a long kiss to her forehead. He reared back an inch, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “You brought me back to life, Liv. We’ve both walked a somber path. Now let’s be happy...together.”
* * *
Jack stepped out of the home office with boxes stacked waist-high and slipped his phone back in the front pocket of his jeans. The room would have been great for setting up a desk and storing old files. But the light pouring through the multiple windows in the corner demanded it become Olivia’s new studio.
A sacrifice he would gladly make, shoving his desk and work-related things in a living room that was double the size he’d left behind at his old place.
“Hey, babe,” Olivia said. She sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, dipping into a box and pulling out more bubble-wrapped plates. “I hope we have enough room for everything. Who knew we had so much stuff?” She beamed up at him, her smile quickly falling. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around the small of her back to hold her close. “Nothing’s wrong. I just got off the phone with Max.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Mason’s trial ended today.”
After Olivia had testified the day before, she’d decided not to stick around. Facing Mason had been too difficult. “Max filled me in on what happened. Do you want to know?”
She nodded.
He glanced around their new apartment, wishing their furniture had arrived so they could sit somewhere other than the tile floor in the kitchen. “He’ll be in jail a long time. Charged in the deaths of Courtney Bailey, Priscilla Abbington, and Dave.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Tremors shook her body, and she buried her head in his shoulder.
He let her cry. The past four months since she’d healed from her surgery had been filled with plenty of questions and worry. He’d stood by Olivia as she learned more about Mason’s intentions and how he’d orchestrated multiple murders in a sick attempt to get close to her. He’d confessed to killing Courtney and Priscilla as a way to remove intruders from what he viewed as his home—snapping after his grandmother passed and the home he’d known as a child was no longer there. He also admitted to following Dave and Olivia to Cold Spring, mowing him down with a rented vehicle when the opportunity presented itself.
Sniffing back her emotion, she smoothed her hands over his chest. “I can’t believe it’s officially over. He destroyed so many lives, and for what? How could he really believe I would love him?”
Jack shrugged. “I’ll never understand why some people do what they do. Luckily, my job is just to stop them. But I do know, as much heartbreak as he dealt you, you survived.”
She smiled. “More than survived. I found you, and you’ve brought me more joy than I thought possible.”
Jack glanced down at the box by his feet and the shiny edge of a frame poking through its wrapping. “What’s this?” he asked, bending down to scoop it up and unwrap a silver frame. A photo of Olivia and Dave holding hands, gazing into a sunset stared up at them.
She cringed. “Sorry. When the loft sold, I just packed everything I wanted and threw it in storage. I haven’t gone through everything yet.”
He rubbed his thumb over the smooth glass and a little sadness twisted his insides. “You have nothing to apologize for. You and Dave shared an amazing love, and that made you who you are today. You never have to shield me from any part of the life you two shared.”
Her eyes widened, and she slid her arms to loop around his neck. “Thank you. How did I get so lucky to find you?”
A knock on the door turned his gaze toward the entryway. The door swung open, and Jason poked his head inside. “Hello? I’ve got some more stuff.”
Jack raised his brows and aimed a pointed stare at Olivia. “I thought we locked that.”
She scrunched up her nose. “I gave him a spare. Come on.” She pulled him out of the kitchen to the front door.
Clara and Christine pushed past Jason, each offering her a hug and Jack a wave.
“Where can I put this?” Jason asked, arms loaded down with a large rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.
“In the living room.” Jack captured Olivia’s hand and pulled her along behind him.
“Did you hear anything about Mason yet?” Christine asked. She leaned on a cane; her limp not as pronounced as it’d been right after she’d been released from the hospital.
“Convicted for all three murders,” Olivia said. “Including Dave’s.”
Jason propped the package against a wall, then straightened. He frowned, his hazel eyes a myriad of relief and lingering grief. “Good. Dave deserves justice. I just wish I would have listened to you, Olivia. I could have helped stop this before anyone else was hurt.”
Clara stepped up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “No more blame. Now is the time for healing. For all of us.”
The smile on Olivia’s face as she watched her brother and sister-in-law warmed Jack’s heart. He was glad the two of them were working on their marriage, and he agreed with Clara. Blame wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Good point, Clara. And thanks for bringing this over. I want it to be the very first thing that goes up in our new apartment.”
Olivia shifted her weight to her tiptoes, trying to get a peek. “What is it?”
Jack tugged her forward. “Open it.”
She jerked at the paper and revealed the painting she’d created so many months ago. The one that had spoken to him on such an emotional level, he couldn’t tear his attention from it. He’d had it encased in a golden frame, and hoped she’d agree to make it a focal point on the deep blue walls.
A small smile played on her lips, and she turned to him with curiosity creasing her brow. “What did you do?”
“The first time I saw this painting, I saw you. I saw everything that was inside of you, and everything I wanted to know more of. I saw your sadness and your joy. Your kindness and your grief. I saw your heart and your soul.” He framed her face with his hand, using the pad of his thumb to swipe away a lingering tear. “I meant what I said about your past making you who you are, and I love every single part of you. This picture symbolizes all those parts. It’s a constant reminder that we are taking our hurts and heartbreak and mixing them with love and hope.”
She leaned into him. The tears from earlier now slipping over the slopes of her face. “Oh, Jack. I love it. And I love you. I couldn’t think of a more perfect thing to put in our home.”
He kissed her forehead and breathed in the smell of her. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus and home. She had given him so much in such a short time. She’d given him love and redemption and the promise of a bright future filled with all the happiness in the world.
* * *
Check out these other great murder mysteries from
Harlequin Romantic Suspense:
Danger in Big Sky Country
By Kimberly Van Meter
Killer in the Heartland
By Carla Cassidy
Cavanaugh Justice: Up Close and Deadly
By Marie Ferrarella
Available now wherever
Harlequin Romantic Suspense books
and ebooks are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton’s Ultimate Test by Beth Cornelison.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Danger. Passion. Drama.
These heart-racing page-turners will keep you guessing to the very end. Experience the thrill of unexpected plot twists and irresistible chemistry.
4 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Colton’s Ultimate Test
by Beth Cornelison
Chapter 1
Last January
“A toast to th’ bir’day girl!”
“To Lorie!” Morgan Colton raised her nearly empty glass, joining her friends in Helen’s salute.
“Girl?” Connie asked with a snort. “Lorie hasn’t been a girl for a looong time. It’s woman, thank you.”
The table of women had been drinking to Lorie, who was turning forty, all night, but what was one more toast? The clink of glasses seemed loud in the now nearly empty bar. With it being closing time on a cold January night, Morgan and her friends had the place almost to themselves.
Morgan leaned over to whisper to her friend Stacy. “Connie gets more feminist when she’s drunk, doesn’t she?”
Stacy nodded and laughed.
Morgan had never been a frequent customer at the Corner Pocket, the English pub-style billiards bar poised on a choice riverfront location in downtown Blue Larkspur, Colorado. The bar was more her brothers’ kind of place. But Helen had arranged the night out and had picked the pub for the celebration, and Morgan approved. The place had a coziness to it. And good food. And plenty of libations. She could see why her brothers like the place. Or maybe that was just the margaritas talking...
“Hey!” Lorie replied with a frown to Connie as all the ladies around the table sipped their drinks. “Are you calling me old?”
Connie paused, gave the black Mylar “Over the Hill” balloon tied to Lorie’s chair a meaningful glance and with a wry grin said, “Yep.”
Helen raised a hand. “Billy’s shift ends at eleven. By midnight I plan to have him naked.”
Stacy hooted a laugh. “Way to go, Helen!” Then, rocking her shoulders as if proud of herself, Stacy pointed a manicured finger across the bar to a patron at another table. “I think I’m taking that fine thang home with me. He’s been watching me since he came in.”
Morgan blinked and cast a glance over shoulder at the man in question. “Stacy, are you sure you want to do that? Do you even know him?”
Stacy flapped a hand at her. “Colton, you worry too much. Of course I know him. He’s my future husband.” Helen cackled and high-fived Stacy.
“I mean, are you—”
She grabbed Morgan’s wrist. “I know what y’ mean. I appreciate your concern, mama hen. I’m a big girl.”
“Woman!” Connie insisted.
“I’ll be careful,” Stacy said, giving Morgan a smile. “You should try a one-night stand sometime. It’s very freeing. No strings. No commitments. No regrets.”
Morgan twisted her mouth, considering Stacy’s stance. She’d never felt comfortable assuming the same casualness toward sex as her friend. She wanted what Lorie had. A husband, a home. Permanence. Love.
And, as they’d all been reminded tonight, thanks to Lorie’s birthday, she wasn’t getting any younger. She’d turn forty next year. She’d let years slip by, put her dreams of a husband and family on hold while she helped raise her brood of brothers and sisters after an accident had claimed their father when the youngest girls were barely six.
Mama hen, Stacy had called her, because of her tendency to extend that motherly nurturing to her friends as well. Chicken soup and cookies when they were sick. A shoulder to cry on when needed. And more than a little advice concerning everything from clothes to business contracts.
She couldn’t help it. As the oldest of twelve—well, technically Caleb was ten minutes older—she came by her take-charge, order-and-structure attitude naturally. But the babies of the family, Alexa and Naomi, were strong, competent women with careers who no longer needed her mothering. Maybe it was time—past time—to consider what she wanted her life to look like in the years to come. The law firm she and Caleb owned, Colton and Colton, filled her days, satisfied her professional yearnings. But what about her nights? Her more intimate yearnings? And, yes, her physical needs. Maybe she did need a wild night of no-strings sex to satisfy her—
