Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2)

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Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2) Page 32

by Christie Craig


  Christina put a hand on his arm. “Do you know about different stages of grief?”

  “Anger and shit.”

  “Guilt is part of it, too. I know, when my sister died, I blamed myself for not helping her. So what’s happening to you is normal. The fact that you admitted loving Vicki says you’re moving past that stage.”

  He exhaled. “I don’t even understand, because like I said, I love them. The other night I woke up, and Bell and her were sleeping together and the lamp in the bedroom was on. They looked like a Norman Rockwell painting. And I wanted to be in that painting.”

  Tears filled Christina’s eyes again. “Tell her that,” his sister-in-law said. “That’s exactly what she needs to hear. And while you’re at it, teach your brother to say stuff like that.”

  Juan looked at Ricky playing with the kids. “He’d die for you or his boys,” Juan said.

  “I know. Both of you are good guys. And you deserve to be happy. So go convince that kid’s mom to give you another shot.”

  * * *

  The doctors had given Vicki a sedative to help relax her. The only way they’d let her leave the hospital was if Juan promised to stay with her. It was an easy promise to make.

  It was almost six when they left the hospital. Right before she got into the car, she asked, “How did he find us?”

  “I don’t know. Milbourn said something about a phone, but that doesn’t make sense.” He got behind the wheel.

  “We’re picking up Bell on the way, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She leaned back against the headrest and in less than five minutes, she’d fallen asleep. He’d wanted to use the drive to talk, but he could tell she needed the rest.

  She woke up when he pulled into his brother’s driveway. She looked at him. “Should I come in?”

  “No. I’ll get her.”

  Bell was asleep when he picked her up. By the time he got back to his house, she’d woken up, but Vicki was out again. He woke Vicki up, walked her in, and took her straight to his bed.

  Bell joined her on the bed. She hugged her mom, and asked if it hurt to get stitches. Then she looked at her mom’s black eyes and frowned. “You fell hard.”

  “I know, but I’m fine.” After that conversation ended, Bell announced she was hungry. Vicki pushed her covers off as if to get up.

  “No,” Juan said. “I can do it.”

  “Yeah, you sleep, Mama.” Bell tucked her hand in his. She looked up when they got to the living room. “You won’t make me eat vegetables.”

  He smiled. Later, he’d have to let Bell know that her mom’s rules were to be followed, but not tonight.

  After they both ate some cereal—without the healthy kind mixed in—he walked her back to bed. She crawled in and scooted over beside her sleeping mom. “You can sleep here.” She patted the mattress. The sight of them together, in his house, in his bed, in his life turned the air he breathed sweeter.

  As hard as it was, he answered, “No, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “But Mama’s asleep and I don’t want to be alone while I go to sleep. Can you just stay until I fall asleep? Please?”

  “Okay.” He stretched out beside her, and nothing had felt so right. When Bell’s eyes closed, he wanted nothing more than to just stay right there, claim his place with them. But he couldn’t risk Vicki waking up and thinking he’d overstepped his boundaries.

  * * *

  “You’re a sleepyhead,” Bell’s voice came at his ear.

  He opened one eye and grinned. “Am not.” He grabbed her and pulled her onto the sofa. Her laugh filled his heart with warmth. When he looked up, Vicki was standing a few feet from his sofa, smiling down at him.

  “Good morning,” he said. Her smile had to be a good sign, didn’t it? Oh, he knew they needed to talk. But he cherished her smile.

  Sweetie jumped up on the sofa. Juan sat up.

  “Can I let her out back?” Bell asked, climbing off the sofa.

  Juan nodded and Bell and Sweetie ran out the door.

  “I was going to head home,” Vicki said. “So I told her she could wake you up.”

  “Home?” He dropped his hands on his knees, suddenly nervous.

  “I think you’ve taken care of me too long.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way to me.” He stood up. He ached to kiss her but held back, unsure if she’d welcome his affection. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore. But okay.” She blinked. “Did you hear anything about Milbourn last night?”

  “I checked in with the Piney Lakes police and they said he was doing well.”

  “How much trouble is he going to be in?”

  “I don’t know, but before I left for the hospital I spoke with Jody. She said if he cooperates and is willing to testify about who Valado was working with, she’d try to get him a deal.”

  She nodded. “That’s good.”

  He studied her, wanting to read her, but he couldn’t. “Did you take your pills this morning?”

  “Not yet. I think they’re still in—”

  “In the suitcase in my car. Let me get it.” He took off toward the garage.

  He came back in with the suitcase and Bell’s backpack. When he went to set the backpack down, he realized it was open and all her things fell out.

  Setting down the suitcase, he picked up the fallen items and saw what was under a book. “Shit,” he muttered and held up a cell phone as he stood up.

  Vicki stared at it. “That’s my old phone. What’s Bell doing with it? I threw it in the garbage.”

  Juan ran a hand over his face. “She had it when you were in the hospital. I forgot all about it. She said you told her it was broken, but it still worked for games.”

  Vicki blinked. “Is that…how he found us?”

  “I bet so,” he said. “I should have remembered—”

  “No, I should’ve gotten rid of it better.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” he asked.

  “Right,” she said.

  He opened the side pocket where he’d stowed her antibiotics. “How about I make us some coffee?”

  “I can just…”

  “Please?” When he saw her slow nod, he took off to the kitchen. She moved to the back window and watched Bell.

  Coffee scents filled the house, and they both sat down at the kitchen table. He turned his cup one way and then the other, steam rising from the mug. He finally looked up. “I want to apologize again for calling you Angie and for getting upset about the anniversary. I want you to know that I’m—”

  “Juan, you don’t have to explain.”

  “Yes, I do.” He put his hand on hers. She didn’t move her hand, but he swore he felt her flinch. And that made his insides quake.

  “Juan, everything has happened so fast.”

  “It doesn’t feel fast. It feels right.” He ran his thumb over the top of her knuckles. “I don’t want to lose you, Vicki. I’m ready—”

  “Juan, I had no right to get so upset. I didn’t go into this relationship blind.”

  “Well, I did,” he said. “I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you and Bell. But I wouldn’t change a thing. And I want this. I want you and Bell in my life.”

  “But we…”

  He remembered Christina saying he needed to tell her about…“At the cabin, I saw you and Bell in bed. The light was on and it was like looking at a Norman Rockwell painting. I wanted to crawl in that bed with you two. To put myself in the painting. I want us to be a family, Vicki. I know you’re scared of trusting someone because of what your mom put you through and then what your sister went through, but even Bell knows I’m one of the good guys.”

  She put a finger to his lips. Was she about to say no? Tell him again that she needed to think about her career?

  He moved her hand. “I get that your career would do better in California. So, I’ll go with you.”

  She gasped. “No.”

  “Because you can’t
trust me? Vicki, I—”

  “Nooo. Because I’m staying in Texas.”

  “Here?” Hope made him breathless. “With me?”

  “Yes. You’re right. I’m scared, but you’re my…Rockwell painting, too. Bell loves you. She loves your dog. Your friends.”

  “And you? Who do you love?”

  She smiles. “Sweetie, of course. And you. Your friends aren’t bad, either.” She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. “I still think we should take it slow, but…”

  “Is this slow enough?” He stood, pulled her up, and without hurrying he kissed her.

  The back door opened, and Bell and Sweetie came rushing in. “You know, you two kiss a lot not to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  Juan laughed and picked her up. “Do you think your mom will be my girlfriend if I ask her?”

  Bell’s eyes widened. “I think so.” She looked at Vicki. “Will you be his girlfriend, Mom?”

  “Yes, I think I will.”

  Bell laughed. “And then…then are you going to get married?”

  “Bell,” Vicki said.

  “But girlfriends and boyfriends get married.”

  “She’s right.” Juan looked from Bell to Vicki, the air filling his chest felt new, fresh. This was happiness.

  Bell wiggled in his arms. “And if you get married, that will make you my daddy? My real daddy? And then Sweetie is mine, too.” Excitement widened her big brown eyes.

  Vicki cleared her throat in a warning.

  Juan just laughed, then looked from Vicki to the precious little girl. “I’d love to be your daddy.”

  She squealed and hugged him again. Vicki moved in and it became a group hug. One with a whole lot of love. One that could’ve appeared in a Rockwell painting.

  Epilogue

  One month later

  Vicki, cell phone to her ear, stood outside on the patio of Juan’s brother’s home. “Did the key work?” she asked Joanne Butler. When Vicki had gone to put away her important papers Juan had packed, she’d found she had two keys tucked away in the envelope: the key to the safety deposit box and the key to the storage unit where she’d left her mom’s things. She recalled she’d given it to Alison to store some of her belongings when she’d left Pablo, and Alison had paid for the unit for a couple more years.

  “Yes, it…worked. To be clear…everything in there is a donation? You’re sure?” Joanne appeared to be choosing her words carefully. The caution in the woman’s voice told Vicki that she and Juan had been right. Alison really had taken Pablo’s money.

  “Yes. Everything.” Vicki smiled.

  Vicki looked over to the hot tub, where Bell and Juan’s nephews splashed and played. Sweetie ran around and barked as if she wanted to jump in. The dog had become Bell’s loyal companion.

  “You know it’ll be put to good use,” Joanne said.

  “I know.” Vicki sighed.

  “I did find a box that had some old photos. I set them aside in case you wanted them. I can mail them to you.”

  “That would be great.” Something about being in a good place in her life had Vicki feeling a little forgiving of her mom’s flaws. Maybe Alison was right. There were a few memories she could salvage and call good. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome,” Joanne said.

  After they hung up, Vicki glanced out. Sitting at the patio table were Juan, Ricky, and Christina. The smell of the burgers sizzling on the grill flavored the air. It had been only six weeks, and yet she felt like a member of their family. Bell already called Juan’s nephews her cousins, and it was Uncle Ricky and Aunt Christina. Of course, Juan became Daddy almost immediately. Vicki looked down at the ring on her finger.

  Two nights ago, he’d surprised her. Her idea of slow and Juan’s were a little different. Not that she was complaining.

  Juan glanced up and smiled. Vicki’s heart swelled with how perfect the scene was before her. Like Juan had said, a Rockwell painting.

  Juan stood and walked over.

  “Who was that?”

  “Joanne Butler.”

  Curiosity lit up his eyes. “What did she say?”

  “Just that the donation was appreciated.”

  “So…?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Good.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He lifted a brow, grinned, and got a playful twinkle in his brown eyes. “For making you scream last night?”

  She bumped him with her shoulder. “For this.” She waved a hand out. “For sharing your family. Your friends. Your life.” She paused. “And for last night.”

  He laughed and kissed her.

  When Connor Pierce agrees to help FBI agent Bree Ryan with her search for her sister’s killers, he knows better than to get personally involved. But as the investigation grows more dangerous, so does the attraction between them, putting their lives and their hearts on the line.

  Don’t miss Connor and Bree’s story in

  Don’t Look Back, the next gripping thriller in the Texas Justice series!

  Available Summer 2020

  Discover Your Next Great Read

  Get sneak peeks, book recommendations, and news about your favorite authors.

  Tap here to learn more.

  About the Author

  Christie Craig is the New York Times bestselling author of thirty-nine books. She is an Alabama native, a motivational speaker, and a writing teacher who currently hangs her hat in Texas. When she’s not writing romance, she’s traveling, sipping wine, or penning bestselling young adult novels as C. C. Hunter.

  You can learn more at:

  Christie-Craig.com

  Twitter @Christie_Craig

  Facebook.com/ChristieCraigBooks

  PRAISE FOR

  CHRISTIE CRAIG

  DON’T BREATHE A WORD

  “Craig delivers a top-notch, breakneck romantic thriller.”

  —Lori Wilde, New York Times bestselling author

  “Didn’t want to put it down. DON’T BREATHE A WORD is a roller coaster ride with riveting suspense, relentless emotion, and characters that will steal your heart.”

  —Darynda Jones, New York Times bestselling author

  “Christie Craig is an auto-buy author for me and I loved DON’T BREATHE A WORD. It was twisty and gritty and real and made time fly!”

  —Joss Wood, award-winning author

  DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES

  “Craig delivers pulse-pounding suspense.”

  —Lori Wilde, New York Times bestselling author

  “Romantic suspense fans will mark this as a series to watch.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Nonstop suspense. Craig grabs you and never lets go.”

  —Kathleen Brooks,

  New York Times bestselling author

  TEXAS HOLD ’EM

  “Fans of fast-paced thrillers and Craig’s other books will feel at home.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  BLAME IT ON TEXAS

  “Complete with genuine characters that have heart, this story will keep you laughing as you turn the pages. A truly fun read!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “An excellent contemporary romance that will make you swoon!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  ONLY IN TEXAS

  “An entertaining tale with delightful, fully formed characters and an intriguing mystery, along with a nod to dog lovers with a likable pooch.” —RT Book Reviews

  “A fabulously great read!”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Also by Christie Craig

  TEXAS JUSTICE SERIES

  Don’t Close Your Eyes

  HOTTER IN TEXAS SERIES

  Only in Texas

  Blame It on Texas

  Texas Hold ’Em

  Keep reading for the bonus novella

  Hot Target

  by April Hunt!

  Rachel Kline came to Vegas to find her missing fr
iend. Next thing she knows, she is swept up in a police raid and being bailed out of jail by the irresistibly sexy, infuriatingly cocky Alpha op who rescued her a year ago. Lewis Callahan has always had a soft spot for Rachel and is more than happy to hang up his cowboy hat to help her out. But with targets on their backs and killers on their tails, it’s one high-risk game they’re playing. And it’s not just their hearts that are on the line…

  Prologue

  Sandy Oaks Medical Research Facility

  Eighteen months ago

  The ants occupying Rachel Kline’s hospital bed won the battle against her sanity. Whipping off the heavy faux-knitted blanket, she dropped to her hands and knees and searched for the offending little creatures.

  “You’ve got to be in here somewhere, you little bastards.” Seeing only the white starched linen, she tugged at the corners, thinking they’d sought refuge between the plastic covered mattress and metal bed frame.

  “Well, well, well. Isn’t that a pretty sight. Gotta say that this view is even better than the one outside.” The low, slow drawl she’d grown accustomed to during the last month brought a sigh to her lips.

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been outside in a week.” Rachel abandoned her quest for the insects and flipped around, making sure her pajama bottoms covered her backside.

  Logan, by comparison, made her feel frumpy. Tall, broad shouldered, and with a penchant for wearing inappropriate or lame-joke T-shirts, the man was always put together and never without a grin on his face—or his cowboy hat on his head. A few months ago, he would’ve been the exact kind of guy who’d catch her attention.

  Now she forced herself to admire from an emotional distance. “Why is it that every time I turn around, you’re there?”

 

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