Boots on the Ground: Homefront, Book 1 (9 page)

The judge exhaled her impatience. He looked at her squarely. Time to choose.

“Yes, ma’am, there’s something I want to say.”

Chapter Twelve

Laurel paced the sidewalk at the bottom of the courthouse steps, oblivious to the sun baking her bare shoulders, the roar of cars passing on the street and the dark glare of the young woman who had to push her stroller onto the grass to edge around her frantic back-and-forth motion. An asteroid could’ve dented the pavement in front of her and she would’ve barely noticed, she was so consumed with the events of the past twenty minutes and their implications for the rest of her life.

She’d performed emergency surgeries that were less nerve-wracking than those twenty seconds standing weak-kneed at the back of the courtroom, waiting for Grady to speak. As his deep, gravelly drawl finally broke the silence, she sank into a seat, numb and heavy with the weight of his words. When the hearing ended, she was so lost among her whirring, cacophonous thoughts that it wasn’t until Ethan and Chance passed down the aisle that she found the wherewithal to rise and shuffle out behind them.

Yet as soon as she pushed through the heavy doors into the bright early-summer sun, her energy recharged like a battery. Restlessness flowed through her limbs until she couldn’t keep still, her mind churning as she paced. Where did she go from here? What would happen now? She was getting sick of reformulating her life plan every five seconds—was it too much to ask for fate to give her a hint, to obviously push her in the right direction for once?

As if on cue, the double doors swung open and Grady emerged at the top of the steps, squinting in the glare—and she knew what to do with absolute certainty.

Without a second’s hesitation she tore up the stone steps and flung herself into his arms, so grateful when they unquestioningly closed around her that she didn’t spare even half a thought for her brother’s approving nod, Ethan’s quiet smile or Chance’s ear-to-ear grin. She pressed her cheek against his chest, giving over to the engulfing rush of the warmth and scent and hard feel of him beneath her hands. He was here, he was safe, and her heart tripped and fell and leaped back up again at the sure knowledge that he wasn’t going anywhere.

After several long, blissful seconds in Grady’s embrace, she sensed his three companions dispersing to give them some privacy, and she pulled back to look up at the one man she knew could make her happier than she’d dared to imagine.

“Thank you,” she whispered in a voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Thank you for changing your mind.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I guess the appearance of a hot blonde in the back of the courtroom reminded me how much I’d be missing out on.” He lowered his gaze, and when he raised it to meet hers again, his smile was still playful, but his eyes were cautious and newly guarded. “Does showing up today mean you’ve changed your mind too?”

“It means I’ve put a lot of thought into what you said, into what I thought I knew about myself and into what I want from the future.”

“And?”

“And you were right. I was afraid to admit to myself that I love this stupid little town and the deep-rooted life I live here.”

“What about the medical-aid missions?”

“I’d still like to do humanitarian work, but only for a month or two at a time, for now. I appreciate that there’s nothing wrong with being tied to a solid home base.”

He nodded, the tense line of his jaw betraying his calm expression. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” She slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “I realized I’m crazy in love with you.”

Every last trace of lightheartedness vanished from Grady’s face as he tightened his grip on her waist. “Don’t say that unless you’re absolutely sure. I’m going to be in over my head trying to pay off this fine. That old farmhouse isn’t going to look much better anytime soon, and starting up a cattle operation is on long-term hold. I’ll have to find a new job or take on a second one, and now that I’ve got a criminal record it’s—”

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. “I couldn’t care less about the price of your house, how you make your living or the zeros in your bank balance. I love you. Nothing else matters.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And if you decide to take an overseas assignment?” he pressed. “What happens then?”

“I come home to you. I always will.”

He studied her for a full minute, his pleading gaze giving her a glimpse of the little boy who’d been left on too many strangers’ doorsteps, and of the man who retreated into the danger of combat rather than face the potential heartbreak of failed relationships and wrecked commitments.

Then his eyes softened, his mouth lifted and she saw straight through to a heart so gentle, so good, and so cautiously hopeful that her own stalled in response.

“Damn, Laurel. I love you so much it scares me.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she soothed. “You’re right where you belong.”

She let her eyes fall shut as he clutched her to his chest, listening to the heartbeat that was as strong and steady as the life she knew lay ahead of them.

And so am I.

About the Author

Rebecca Crowley inherited her love of romance from her mom, who taught her to at least partially judge a book by the steaminess of its cover. She writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense with smart heroines and swoon-worthy heroes, and never tires of the happily ever after. Having pulled up her Kansas roots to live in New York City and London, Rebecca now lives in Johannesburg, South Africa.

Find her on the Web at
www.rebeccacrowley.net
or on Twitter at
@rachelmaybe
.

Look for these titles by Rebecca Crowley

Now Available:

Elite Operators

Secure Target

Coming Soon:

The Homefront Trilogy

Alive Day

She’s just an ordinary small-town girl…until a killer makes her his next target.

Secure Target

© 2014 Rebecca Crowley

Elite Operators, Book 1

South African hostage rescue operative Bronnik Mason has been chasing a serial killer around the globe for over a year. Four women have already died, and he’s sworn there won’t be a fifth. Even if, this time, he has to offer up more than a few pints of his own blood.

But when it comes to safeguarding the killer’s next target, Bronnik realizes this case could put his professional boundaries to the test.

Having grown up in the shadow of two delinquent brothers, dental receptionist Lacey Cross is impeccably well-behaved, dutiful, hard working—and bored. Until Bronnik storms into the office to sweep her into protective custody. Suddenly, her nondescript life just got a lot more interesting.

Racing against a blizzard, dodging uncannily accurate bullets, Bronnik finds his concentration getting blown all to hell. Before he realizes Lacey’s slipped under his skin, she becomes more than just a body he’s sworn to protect. She is the woman he will risk his own life to save—whether she likes it or not.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Secure Target:

For eleven o’clock on a snowy Wednesday morning, the mall was more crowded than she expected. She wondered if her fellow shoppers were taking care of all of the errands they’d skipped during the bad weather yesterday, or if it only took an afternoon cooped up indoors to make people seek out any excuse to leave the house.

She tried to imagine a different reality, one in which their cover story was true, that she really had fallen in love with a tall, sexy blond, and that he was so enamored of her that he was willing to fly thousands of miles to visit her in her no-frills, typically Midwestern hometown. He’d surprise her with a proposal on his last night in town, and the tearful parting at the airport would be redeemed by a hasty but sincere courthouse marriage a few months later. They’d move into a bigger house, he’d get a construction job while he waited for a place in the police academy, and before long they’d be hanging a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament on a light-strewn tree.

As they passed store after store of affordable, practical and decidedly unglamorous offerings, Lacey almost laughed out loud at the image of this lethally skilled man with his exotic accent weaving his way through the crowd pushing a stroller, or comparing the prices of garden hoses while she picked out a new microwave.

The man was a trained killing machine. She’d seen it herself. It would take a special woman to tame him, and she very much doubted that a dental receptionist from Kansas could do the job.

Even with that in mind, his hand hung by her side, and she had to fight a strong, strange instinct to take it, as though they really were a couple, and as though this really was her life.

If she hadn’t been daydreaming, it might have occurred to her that they probably shouldn’t walk past the cell phone kiosk where she knew an ex-high school classmate worked. Then again, as she saw Tilly’s eyes light up with nosy curiosity from a few paces away, she wondered if on some subconscious level she hadn’t led them there on purpose.

“Lacey!” Tilly shrieked, as though she was unbelievably delighted they’d run into each other. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” Lacey replied politely. Tilly had a brother the same age as her middle brother Harlen, and when they got to high school Tilly made sure everyone was aware that Lacey was the little sister of that nasty piece of work who’d gotten a poor innocent girl pregnant and then dropped her like she was nothing. In their small school that was all it took to keep Lacey firmly on the social black list, and that Tilly herself had gotten pregnant their junior year hadn’t provided much consolation.

Bronnik eyed Tilly warily as she leaned way over the counter of the kiosk to extend her hand—and to give him an up-close view of what was stored inside her low-cut top.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tilly Slater.”

“Bronnik Mason.” He gave her hand a brisk shake. “I’m Lacey’s fiancé.”

Suddenly Tilly’s jaw was on its way toward the floor, and her own was racing it there.

“We’re shopping for her ring today,” he continued easily. “I was in such a hurry to propose, I couldn’t stand waiting to find the right one.” He slipped his arm across her back and hugged her tightly to his side in what was becoming a familiar gesture.

“How sweet.” Tilly’s voice was shrill with tension. “And where is it you’re from? England?”

“South Africa,” Lacey supplied, sliding her own arm around his narrow waist. His proximity, the warm, solid, secure feel of him, made her feel powerful. She knew he would back her up, no matter what she said or did now. “I may be moving there.”

“Well, how interesting.” She could practically feel Tilly’s fingers itching to grab her phone and call everyone she still knew from high school—which was probably a lot of people—to spread the word that Harlen Cross’s little sister had gotten herself a man.

“Anyway, we’d better get going. It was nice to meet you.” Bronnik smiled, and its effect on Tilly couldn’t have been more apparent if she’d fainted on the spot. He steered Lacey away, his arm draped over her shoulder.

“She’s watching us,” he murmured after a few steps.

“Probably. She’s a notorious gossip.”

“I mean I can see her.” He nodded to a mirrored panel in a light fixture on the distant, high ceiling. “She’s watching us walk away.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she found a reason to bump into us again this morning. She—”

Suddenly he swung her to face him, pulling her close against his chest. His face was blank and inscrutable as he raised his palm to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over the line of her jaw. Bewildered, she opened her mouth to protest, and that was when he pressed his lips to hers.

Lacey’s heart was beating so fast, her head swimming with shock and confusion, that she worried she might pass out. But as the kiss slowly moved from gentle to insistent, the dizziness was replaced by a simmering liquid heat that seemed to wash over her, filling her rib cage. His hands tightened on her waist as she pressed her palms against his chest, savoring the contrast between the soft cotton material of his shirt and the unyielding muscle beneath.

As her surroundings faded from her consciousness she parted her lips slightly, eager to invite him deeper, to encourage him to explore. Her nipples grew taut against his chest and an urgent, burning desire began to pool at the apex of her thighs.

Bronnik broke away as abruptly as he’d begun, and the cool draft of air that flowed between their parted faces struck her like a slap. When she opened her eyes his expression was strange, sitting somewhere between smug and bemused.

He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, the tender gesture made casual and friendly in his hands. “I can’t stand a gossip,” he told her flatly. Then he took her hand in his and tugged her down the hall.

Sometimes falling in love is the easy part…

Trust in Me

© 2013 Dee Tenorio

A
Rancho del Cielo
Romance

Locke Jackman is single, childless…and he has a bad case of empty-nest syndrome. For years, as he fought tooth and nail to keep his brothers and sisters together after his parents died, his entire life was focused on his responsibilities.

Now his siblings have all moved on with their lives, and there’s no one around to distract him from his overpowering attraction to his sister’s best friend. Their mutual desire is stunning…but then again, so are the secrets keeping them apart.

Susie Packard’s nightmarish marriage taught her what happens when she gives in to her weakness for powerful men. Too bad the big, stoic frowner across the street—the one who sets her bells jangling just by breathing—has her in his sights.

Try as she might to keep her emotional distance, Locke is determinedly knocking down all her walls. But as much as she wants to be the woman he needs, she knows better than most— passion may have its rewards, but every secret has its price.

Warning: This book contains a hot, modern-day Viking seducing his way to the heart of his woman, a stubborn lingerie designer with a world of secrets and a very deep bathtub… Enjoy!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Trust in Me:

“Fine.” He set his forearms on the table, leaning toward her, hoping like hell he didn’t screw this up. The thought of walking out the door and never being let back in scared the shit out of him, leaving his gut in knots.
Be gentle…
“I want to hold you, all night long. I want to feel you stretched out next to me, breathing against my neck. I want to smell your hair and whatever that flowery shit is you put in it and
dream
about holding you all night long. I need some goddamn peace, Susie, and I want it with you.”

She blinked, swallowing so hard he heard it. Practically felt it. Maybe he would have if his heart wasn’t beating so rough his temples ached.

“I-I don’t think there was a question in there.”

“If I ask, you’ll say no just to prove you can.”

Her lids fluttered closed.

“It’s just us, baby. We can be honest when it’s just us. I need you tonight. And I think you need me. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”

A lick to her lips. Her brows came together again while she seemed to argue with herself. “People will talk.”

“When has that ever stopped me from anything?”

She seemed to weigh that, finally opening her eyes. “We can’t have sex, I mean it.”

“I can live with that.” For now.

She studied him, her lips twitching at the corners. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“I know,” she muttered, shaking her head. “That’s what worries me.” She stood, reaching her slim hand out and slipping her fingers over his. She tugged and just like that, he could breathe again. “One night, Jackman. Just sleep.”

“Just sleep.”

She didn’t miss his lack of agreement to the other stipulation, but thankfully, she didn’t make a fuss about it. Just sighed and pulled him toward her bedroom.

The short trip wasn’t easy on his nerves. A million questions ran through his mind. Would she allow him under the blankets with her? Would they sleep skin to skin? Could he keep his hands off her all night long, as he’d promised? Would she forget herself and let her own hands wander over him? If she did, did that mean all bets were off?

He wasn’t the only one second-guessing himself, he decided, when Susie stared at her wrought-iron girl bed like it was a dragon come to eat her. She let go of him and brought her hand up to worry her fingers over the charm on her necklace. “I’m insane to be doing this.”

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

She turned to pierce him with a displeased look.

Well, it wasn’t.

“That was different. We were carried away. This time, we’re just walking in. It’s…it’s…”

“Lacking romance?”

She snorted on her laughter. She actually snorted. Then kept right on laughing.

“What? I can be romantic.” That night in the cabin was
damn
romantic. Fire burning, a soft bed, beers and pretzels… He frowned. Maybe that last bit hadn’t been the stuff women dream about, but sitting across from her on the cabin’s rug while she clutched the sheet over her chest, watching her throat move as she swallowed from the long-neck? It was damn romantic to him.

Susie’s hand fell on his chest, soothing over his heart. He liked it, until she used the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it. Just trust me, romance isn’t something I think you’re able to do on purpose.”

Interesting. “So you think I’ve done it on accident all this time?”

“No, I think you’ve tried it with a
sledgehammer
all this time.” But she was smiling while she said it. Relaxed. Which meant she must not mind sledgehammers too much…

He saw the exact instant she realized what he meant to do. Her eyes widened, the tension in her shoulders coming back in a heartbeat. “Locke…”

“I’m not going to break my word.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, stroking down and under to tip her chin up. Then he ran his lips over hers, a taste of a kiss. She moaned, just a little one, but it was almost enough to push him past his limit. He’d waited so long to feel her again. To touch her. Hunger threatened to steal his intentions, feeding the urge to sink his hands into her hair and hold her in place so he could kiss her the way he’d been aching to for months. Drowning himself in her feel and warmth and flavor… He almost gave in, but he couldn’t rush this. Couldn’t overwhelm her. She had to come to him on her own or she wouldn’t come at all… “I’m just setting the mood.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be a mood,” she reminded, but her hands slid up his arms and she leaned into him.

It was all he could do not to shout in relief. Instead, he kissed her again, firmer this time, and damn she felt good. Warm and strong, her body sinking into his and her needy little touches at the back of his neck and shoulders telling him he was doing this right. He wanted to squeeze her closer, run his hands down her back and mold her to the heavy rise of his cock, but more than ever, he needed to behave. But it was incrementally easier to keep his hands loose, let her guide the moment, the intensity. Next time, he promised himself, next time he wouldn’t need to hold back.

“Sure there was,” he responded softly, straining to keep his tone reassuring.

She tilted her head back, and he followed her unspoken request, kissing and caressing his way down her throat.

“Restfulness, remember? Let me help you rest.”

Her moan this time was full of caution. “This is asking for trouble.”

“No.” His palms settled on her hips, his thumbs finding their way under the hem of her shirt. Silken skin trembled beneath his calluses. “I’m asking you to trust me. For one night, let me prove that you can trust me.”

Her eyes gleamed, shadows of pain he couldn’t miss in their depths. Pain and secrets he hoped to God he was wrong about. “Maybe you’re not the one who can’t be trusted.”

“Then trust me enough for both of us.”

He brought his mouth down on hers and they both gave in.