Lady Killer (The Taken Book 3)
Page 17
The waning moon was high and bright in a cloudless Texas sky, and it lighted their way up the steps of the dark house—they’d left it in a hurry and before sundown. Brooke held the door while Tony carried Daniel into the kitchen, then slipped past him and down the hall to pull back the covers so Tony could lay him gently down on the bed. Together, they slipped off his shoes and jeans and the jacket Cory had given him to wear when the evening grew cool, since Daniel’s shirt was now somewhere in a biohazard trash can at the vet’s. Brooke folded the covers over the sleeping child and leaned down to kiss him while Tony let his fingers linger in the boy’s soft, silky hair. Then they both tiptoed silently out of the room.
Brooke pulled the door closed. And they stood in the hallway and faced each other in the darkness, close but not touching. They both drew breath and spoke.
“Brooke…”
“Tony…”
He felt her fingers on his lips, and she whispered, “I’m sorry. For what I said to you.”
He caught her hand and held it. “No apology necessary.” His whisper was much deeper and gruffer than hers.
“Can you stay?”
“As long as you want me.”
He heard her breath catch. “Do you mean that?”
“I do,” he said, fully aware that it was a vow.
He could feel her shaking, so he drew her close to him and held her, wrapped in his arms. Her arms came around him, and her head came to rest in its special place. He laid his cheek against her hair and drew a deep breath, breathing in the smell of her that had already become familiar to him. “I was thinking…about that dream of yours. About the big cats? Since it looks like you’re going to be able to do that now, after all…it seems to me like you might need a partner.”
“I will,” she said, fully aware that it was a vow. She could hear his heart thumping against her ear, like a drum deep inside his big chest. “Absolutely.”
They stood there like that for a long time, as close as two people could be, neither of them wanting to separate from the other, neither of them wanting the moment to end.
After a while, Tony cleared his throat and said, “I want you to know, you’ve made my mother and a whole bunch of sisters very, very happy.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, well…Daniel, too.” She tipped her head to look at him, and a tiny hint of uncertainty crept into her voice. “And you?”
“Happy doesn’t begin to describe it.” He managed to get that much out before words failed him completely.
After that, it seemed easier just to show her.
The next morning, Brooke was making blueberry pancakes when the knock came—on the front door, not the back porch door, which everyone always used. She left Daniel and Tony laughing over something or other and went to answer it, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
Sheriff Clayton Carter stood on her front porch, wearing the same Western-style jacket he’d had on the day he’d come to arrest her for murder. His brown Stetson hat was in his hands.
“Why, Sheriff,” Brooke said, holding the screen door open and smiling at him, “what a nice surprise. Would you care to come in for coffee and blueberry pancakes?”
The sheriff gestured with his hat and didn’t smile back. He cleared his throat and tried to look her in the eyes, but his frowning gaze kept sliding past her. “No, ma’am—thank you for askin’, but I can’t stay. Just wanted to tell you personally, the charges against you are bein’ dropped. And, uh…wanted to extend the department’s sincere apologies to you and your boy there.” He tried again to make eye contact, and this time managed to hold on long enough to add, “I’m sorry as I can be about your husband, ma’am, and I hope you can find it in your heart to…uh—” He waved the hat once more, then put it back on his head. “Well, that’s all. Just wanted to let you know,” he said as he turned to go down the steps.
“That’s nice of you, Sheriff. I do appreciate you stoppin’ by,” Brooke said, and there was nothing in the world that could take away her smile—not today, maybe not ever again. “Are you sure you won’t come in for coffee?”
With a wave of his hand, the sheriff went on down the steps. “Thanks. I ’preciate the offer, I really do, but I’ve got to get back to the barn. Got feds swarming all over the place….”
Brooke closed the door gently and went back to the kitchen. And was greeted there by two smiles, both so different, both so unbelievably sweet…and two pairs of eyes, one deep and dark like hers, like his uncle’s, the other warm and golden, like sunshine…both of them lighting up at the sight of her.
Two faces glowing with love…for her. Two men—her men. The two people she loved more than anyone on earth, more than she’d thought it was possible to love.
As she joined them, she was laughing, laughing with a happiness that went all the way deep down inside of her, all the way into her heart and soul.
Epilogue
“I never thought it would happen,” Cory said to Holt over steak and eggs at the diner. “Not to Tony. He’s always been…Well, let’s just say, he’s somewhat of a lady’s man. I didn’t think he’d ever find…”
“The one?” Holt lifted one eyebrow. “Who’s to say there’s a one for everybody? Maybe some people just don’t have one to find.”
“Like…you, for instance?” Cory’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he picked up his coffee cup. “What’s your story, Holt? I sense there is one—probably a helluva one, too.”
Holt smiled sardonically but was saved from answering as Shirley arrived, brandishing a pot of fresh coffee.
“Sure is somethin’, about Lonnie and them,” she said as she topped off their cups.
“Well, we owe you, darlin’,” Holt said, lifting his cup in a little salute. “I don’t think we could have gotten there in time if you hadn’t told us what you heard.”
“Yeah, well…” She took in a breath that strained the buttons on her blouse. “I’m just so glad they’re okay—her and the little boy. Too bad about the dog, though.”
“She’s gonna make it. Thanks to you, darlin’.”
Shirley gave him a smile with a wink and a wiggle as she moved off to the next table. Holt looked at Cory and found him smiling, too. “What?”
“Nothing—just that you’re sounding more and more like a Texan. Time to move on, my friend. Which brings me to the question I’ve been dying to ask. What about my other sister? You said her name’s Brenna, right? Where is she, and when can I meet her?”
Holt let out a breath and pushed his plate away. “That’s…gonna be a problem.”
“Why? What problem? You said the twins were adopted together, grew up in the same family. Surely they’ve stayed in touch.”
“I wish that were true.” Holt picked up his coffee and blew on it, stalling for time. But there was no way around it. It looked like he was going to have to be the one to break the bad news. “Mr. Pearson, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Brenna ran away from home when she was just fourteen. Brooke hasn’t seen or heard from her since.” He spread his hands in utter defeat. “I have absolutely no clue where she is. Or even where to start looking.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3278-9
LADY KILLER
Copyright © 2009 by Kathleen Creighton-Fuchs
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