Naughty Stranger

by Stacey Kennedy

  She blew the confetti off her nose while Boone stepped in behind her, sliding his arms around her tightly, and said in her ear, “This is how we celebrate engagements around here.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but they were happy tears, and that felt damn good. “It’s also the place we had our first kiss. Who knew we’d end up here?”

  Boone kissed her neck softly bringing forth heat and more tears.

  Before he could even back away, Kinsley ripped Peyton away, taking her into a hug. “I still can’t believe we’re going to be sisters. See, I totally called it that’d you’d be marrying my brother.”

  Peyton laughed. “At the time you said that, I never would have believed that this would have happened.”

  Kinsley smiled. “Well, I’m glad it has.”

  “Me too.”

  Peyton gasped as Remy stole her away. “Which also means we’ll be like sisters too.” She hugged her so tight. “We can plan our weddings together.”

  “I’d really like that,” Peyton said, feeling slightly winded and dizzy by being passed around.

  From the crowd, Hank closed in and gave Boone a rough hug, then offered a gentler one to Peyton. “He couldn’t have picked a better daughter for me to have.”

  Peyton narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. “No making me cry more than I already am.”

  Hank laughed, raising his hands in his surrender. “I wouldn’t dare think of it.”

  From there, Peyton was tossed from Damon to Asher and finally to Rhett, who gave Boone a rough hug, then said to her, “Boone’s a very lucky man.” Rhett smiled.

  Boone laughed. “I think I’ve heard you say that line before.”

  “It’s a good line.” Rhett hugged her, then said in her ear, “Welcome to the family, Peyton.”

  Her throat tightened. “Thank you.” Hearing Rhett say these things meant a lot. He wasn’t typically warm and fuzzy, and he sounded entirely genuine. She turned to Boone and wiped her face. “I’m a mess.”

  “A beautiful mess.” He smiled, his fingers twining with hers.

  A flash suddenly blinded her. She turned to see her mother taking her photograph, her father next to her. Peyton blinked. “Mom? Dad?”

  Her sobbing mother plowed into her, and probably would have toppled her over if Boone hadn’t been holding her hand. “Oh, Peyton, you’re right, this town is wonderful. Look how much they love you.”

  Her father squeezed in a hug once her mom finally let her go. “Couldn’t be happier for you, kiddo.”

  Peyton slid a curious look to Boone. “You called them?”

  “Not just that family either,” he said.

  Someone appeared before Peyton then, and she couldn’t fight the growing tears, a bunch spilling over. “You’re here.”

  “We’re here,” said Amy, taking Peyton in her arms and holding her close. “Nothing would have made Adam happier to see you in this new life you have. Your happiness was all that ever mattered to him.”

  Peyton simply nodded, unable to speak past the tears. She glanced from face to face of all the people who loved her, wondering how she ever got so lucky. There was just so much love in the room, and against all odds, she survived. And not only survived…she thrived. “Thank you all for being here,” Peyton said, glancing around at her family, new and old. “So, now, can you all stop making me cry and party instead?”

  “Hear, hear!” Kinsley yelled. “Drinks on the house.”

  The crowd cheered.

  Peyton laughed through her tears as Boone gathered her in his arms, holding her close.

  Right as he dropped his mouth to hers, another voice said, “Congratulations.”

  Boone jerked away, and for a split second his ironclad expression fell, exposing so many emotions that Peyton couldn’t pinpoint all of them. Until he cleared his throat and said to Peyton, “Peyton, this is my mother, Rosemary.”

  “Oh,” Peyton said, shell-shocked, but she recovered quickly and offered her hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Rosemary looked a lot like Kinsley, just an older version with a bob instead of long hair. She gave a pleasant smile and returned the handshake. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.” She turned to Boone again, and her smile warmed. “I’m so very happy for you, Boone.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank you, Mom.”

  His mother watched him for a long, loaded moment and said, “Well, best I get a drink to celebrate with you.” She strode off toward the bar.

  Peyton watched as Boone’s gaze followed her, where she had a drink with her husband, who happened to be talking to Hank. She turned to Boone. “Okay, you’re just full of surprises tonight.”

  He brought her into his arms, staring down at her. “It’s time to put the past in the past and move on.” He seemed somehow happier after his conversation with Chelsea last week, where he finally confronted his emotions surrounding his previous marriage, and his smile now as he looked at his mom spoke of peace and love. They were both healing from their past. “And you’re the one who taught me that.” He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her. Hard. Passionately. Like no one in the room was watching them.

  Until Asher said, tight and edgy, “This guy is a ghost.”

  Peyton leaned away from Boone. “Huh?”

  “You weren’t supposed to say something until after the party,” Boone said, a bite to his voice.

  Asher took a swig of his beer and glared across the room to where Remy and Damon were drinking with Kinsley and Rhett. “What I’m saying is that Damon Lane does not exist. We can’t find any records of him anywhere. He’s not a real person.”

  Peyton glanced at Boone. “How can he not be a person?”

  Boone’s lips parted, but Asher cut in, “He’s been created, fabricated, whatever.”

  She absorbed that information, feeling so damn sorry for Remy. God, Asher broke her heart, now this. Peyton turned to Boone. “Then who is Remy’s fiancé?”

  Boone slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Asher gave them a look of pure determination, and maybe something even more possessive than that. “But I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

  Are you ready for Remy and Asher’s story? Keep reading for a preview of WICKED SINNER, available in fall 2019!

  Chapter 1

  “Today we are gathered here to celebrate Damon Lane and Remy Brennan as they proclaim their love and commitment to the world.”

  Asher Sullivan wasn’t sitting in the church in his hometown of Stoney Creek to celebrate anything. Fifth pew back from where the love of his life, Remy Brennan, wore a strapless gown, fitting her sweet five-foot-five frame to pure perfection. She was petite, with long, blond wavy hair, big, round light green eyes set in an oval face, and she took his breath away every time he saw her. She’d been with him since she was sixteen years old, and even back then, she’d been beautiful. Only now she was breathtaking and no longer his.

  The bastard standing next to her, about to become her husband, Damon Lane, Asher could do without. Especially considering Remy had no idea she was about to marry a con man. Or that this impending marriage was a sham to get Remy’s half-million-dollar inheritance that her beloved grandmother left her when she passed away. Remy’s sweet nana, who raised her from six years old, had stipulated in her last will and testament that Remy would gain her inheritance once she married.

  Patience had never lived in Asher’s character, and he thrust a hand through his blond hair, ready to crawl out of his skin. There was no doubt the sweat trailing his spine showed through his white button-up that he wore to a wedding he didn’t even want to attend. The plastic handcuffs poked his thigh through the pocket of his dark gray slacks, all but teasing him with anticipation to wrap them around Damon’s lowlife wrists

  All Asher needed was word from a fellow cop back at the station that the arrest warrant had arrived.

  “We are gathered to rejoice, with and for them, in the new life they now undertake together,” the minister called out in a sm
ooth, nearly rhythmic voice

  Asher snorted. “What a load of shit.”

  Heads turned and a few glares came Asher’s way, telling him he wasn’t as quiet as he’d hoped. Remy was meant to marry him, until Asher received a shiny job offer from the FBI. That promising new career had arrived two weeks after his mother died from a massive stroke, and his fears had lured Asher away from Remy. Five years later, he’d never felt more lost than ever. That’s why he’d come back to Stoney Creek. He needed his hometown roots. His friends. The life he knew, only for four years Remy wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence, and this past year Asher had watched Remy fall in love with someone else. That’s when he realized she was his greatest regret, and he began rethinking his hang-ups about marriage.

  “Calm down. You’re drawing attention.”

  The clipped voice next to him didn’t come as any relief.

  On either side of Asher were his fellow detectives and childhood friends. To his left was Boone Knight, a powerhouse of a guy with neat dark hair who was quick to smile. On Asher’s right was Rhett West. His features had always been hard, and Rhett carried heaviness and darkness with him, but the man was lethal, both in the military and out of it. “Where is the goddamn arrest warrant?” Asher bit off.

  “Remy will never forgive you if you act before having it,” Rhett shot back quietly. “You cannot be wrong. Relax.”

  Asher restrained the curses sitting on his lips and glanced back at his phone, his leg bouncing a mile a minute. Rhett wasn’t wrong. Asher had broken Remy’s heart once. He couldn’t act rashly. While his instincts had gotten him through the police academy, then hired at the FBI, and now back in Stoney Creek working alongside his buddies as a detective, those same instincts were what had him investigating Damon Lane. It only took days to realize something was wrong, but it took weeks to gather enough evidence against Lane to go to the prosecutor.

  And Asher knew Remy needed that proof too.

  One call. That’s what they waited for. The month-long investigation had finally delivered Damon Lane’s real name, Kyle Fanning. And Remy wasn’t his first victim either; she was his fourth. Three marriages, and Fanning went by all different names.

  The minister continued, “The relationship you enter into today must be grounded in the strength of your love and the power of your faith in each other.”

  Asher held his tongue this time. For the briefest of glances, Remy turned her head, her gaze connecting with his. And held. Asher was pretty sure she still loved him. But maybe Damon was a good second best, and Asher understood why she wanted to get married. For as long as he knew Remy, she had dreamed of her wedding. She once told him every single detail, including that the ceremony would be outside under the stars, and then she described every element of her dress. Now, he noted, the ceremony was in a church and her dress was not the one she dreamed of. Plus, she wanted to open up a New Age shop she’d call the Black Cat’s Cauldron, and her inheritance would help make that happen. Remy believed in magic. She believed teas could bring positive energy. That herbs could heal. That burning incense could chase away evil.

  Asher’s fingers gripped his phone tightly as he glanced down at the screen, waiting for the damn text message to stop this wedding. Asher hunted criminals—that was his job as a police detective. Most crimes he solved in the small coastal town in Maine dealt with theft, domestic violence, and only recently the first murder to happen in town in years. But right now this crime was personal.

  He came there to support Remy, but he knew he’d be stopping this wedding today. When the time came, he’d object with or without the evidence. But he really hoped for his life and well-being, he had the arrest warrant and the photograph of Kyle Fanning’s last wedding.

  A flash on his phone caught his attention.

  Get him.

  Asher jumped to his feet. “Stop. I object,” he yelled, anger burning in his gut.

  Remy turned to him, eyes huge, but for one split second, Asher swore he caught a hint of a smile. He tore his focus off her and put it onto the prick next to her, holding her hand and a ring. Yeah, that scumbag was pretty too, probably the high school quarterback, the guy all the girls wanted, with his dazzling brown eyes, charming smile, and perfectly styled brown hair. Asher saw Damon for what he was, a slimy bastard who didn’t just break hearts but left a trail of shattered women behind him.

  The crowd in the pews were a blur around him as Asher charged forward, hot adrenaline pumping through his veins. Damon took a step back, but Asher was there a second later, grabbing him by the arms and taking him down swiftly to the floor.

  “Asher!” Remy gasped, both horror and shock in her voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving you from this fucker,” Asher growled, keeping his knee pressed against the bastard’s back while he reached for his cuffs. “You want to tell her the truth? Or am I going to do it?”

  “He’s crazy,” Damon yelled when Asher got the first cuff around one wrist. “Get him off me.”

  Asher felt the weight of everyone’s gaze, and after he got on the second cuff, he glanced back, finding Boone standing behind him frowning and Rhett wore a shit-eating grin. With the moment to breathe, Asher cursed softly. Perhaps he hadn’t handled this well, but he wouldn’t apologize for shit. He blew out a slow breath, then rose, bringing Damon to his feet.

  Rhett grasped Damon’s arm, pulling him back away from Remy. “And here I thought I was the one who always fucked up,” he said to Asher. “Good luck dancing your way out of this.”

  Next to him, Boone cringed, staring over Asher’s shoulder.

  Fuck. Asher turned around, seeing both tears and shock in Remy’s eyes. Beside her, her bridesmaids; the blond-haired woman was Boone’s fiancée, Peyton, and the dark-haired one glaring was Boone’s sister, Kinsley. They were both wearing light purple bridesmaids’ dresses and holding Remy’s hands tightly.

  “What the hell, Asher?” Kinsley spat.

  Peyton’s gaze darted from Asher to Boone; she was obviously in a state of confusion, as was the rest of the crowd. With Damon nowhere near Remy, Asher’s head centered again, heart slowed. He took in the minister, Remy’s friends in the pews. Shit.

  “Asher,” Remy snapped, stepping forward, giving him those hard eyes that used to make him grab her and kiss her.

  He hated when she was mad at him. He sighed, desperate to take her in his arms and take all this shit away. “We don’t have to do this here,” he told her.

  “Tell me,” she said firmly, tears in her eyes. “What is going on?”

  To keep the conversation private, Asher stepped closer, becoming more aware of her trembling body. His fingers twitched to grab her, bring her close, and keep her safe. “This man isn’t Damon Lane. His name is Kyle Fanning. He’s a con man who has swindled more than three million out of his past three wives, all under different aliases.”

  Kinsley slowly turned to Damon. “You motherfucker.”

  Gasps came from the pews. The minister looked shell-shocked, his skin ashen.

  “What? No. You’ve got to be wrong,” Remy said, her gaze darting from Asher to Damon over her shoulder. “This can’t be true, Damon.”

  Asher glanced back and found Damon’s head hanging, shoulders slumped.

  “My inheritance,” Remy said, blinking rapidly.

  For every passing moment that Asher had been thinking about himself, suddenly all he thought of was her and the pain crossing her expression. “I’m so sorry, Remy,” Asher said, reaching for her.

  She took a step back, horror flashing across her face, and yelled at Damon, “No. I’m sorry I believed that you loved me.” She looked at the crowd in the pews. “And I’m sorry I wasted all your time.” She took one final look at Asher, her heartbreak seeping into the air around them, and then she grabbed up her dress and ran down the aisle.

  Asher cursed and then chased after her, meeting her by the big oak tree outside. He grabbed her arm. “Remy.”

  She spun around, tears floodin
g her face. “Why did it have to be you?” she yelled at him. “Out of anyone who could have stopped the wedding, why did it have to be you?”

  He moved closer, pulled by something he never could control. “Because this is what I do,” he told her honestly.

  “Hurt me?”

  The bitterness, the pain, it all took his breath away. Because right now he knew that he’d caused this. He could have made her happy all those years ago. Instead he’d crushed her. “No, Remy,” he said gently, “I protect you.”

  Her chin quivered. Then the dam opened.

  Before she could stop him, and needing this far more than she probably needed him, he gathered her close. She shook in his arms and wept, years of pain bleeding from her soul, while he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  But then, as quick as she came, she was gone.

  “What am I doing?” she gasped, yanking herself from his grip. “Stay away from me,” she bit out. “Everyone just leave me alone!”

  “Remy,” he called after her, letting his arms fall to his sides, catching the deep-rooted hurt in her gaze before she turned away. It occurred to him then that even though he knew he did the right thing by stopping the wedding today, he’d forever be remembered as the guy who broke her heart, not once, but twice.

  Acknowledgments

  To my husband, my children, family, friends, and bestie, it’s easy to write about love when there is so much love around me. Big thanks to my readers for your friendship and your support; my editor, Lexi, for believing in me and my small-town shop owners and their hot detectives; my agent, Jessica, for always having my back; the kick-ass authors in my Sprint group for their endless advice and support; the entire Forever Yours team for all their hard work, and Steve, without whom I wouldn’t have funny hospital stories. Thank you.