Acknowledgments As always, many thanks go out to my tireless critique partners, my writing friends, and my family. And mostly to the whole team at Montlake Publishing, who support me and help me live my dreams. Last, I’d like to send to my loyal fans, the ones who make writing books for them such a pleasure, a big hug of gratitude from the deepest part of my heart.
About the Author Photo © 2012 Robyn Adams Tamra Baumann became hooked on writing the day she picked up her first Nora Roberts novel from her favorite bookstore. Since then, she’s dazzled readers with her own lighthearted love stories. She’s a Golden Heart winner for Contemporary Series Romance and has also received the Golden Pen Award for Single Title Romance. Born in Monterey, California, Tamra led the nomadic life of a navy brat before finally putting down permanent roots during college. When she’s not attending annual Romance Writers of America meetings, this voracious reader can be found playing tennis, traveling, or scouting reality shows for potential character material. Tamra resides with her real-life characters—her husband, two kids, and their allergy-ridden dog—in the sunny Southwest. Visit her online at www.tamrabaumann.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/author.tamra.baumann.
OTHER TITLES BY TAMRA BAUMANN
It Had to Be Him
It Had to Be Her
It Had to Be Fate
It Had to Be Them
Kindle Direct Publishing
Matching Mr. Right
Perfectly Ms. Matched
Matched For Love
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 by Tamra Baumann
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542046091
ISBN-10: 1542046092
Cover design by PEPE nymi
This book is dedicated to my agent, Jill Marsal. Thanks for always believing.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Thanksgiving
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Having prophetic dreams on a regular basis wasn’t nearly as fun as one might think, especially when only half of them made sense, but Dani Botelli wasn’t complaining. Instead, she intended to make the next thirty years of her life better than the first thirty had been. Wasn’t thirty the new twenty-five anyway?
As she raced for the courthouse steps, she vowed that this time around she’d search for a more compatible man, she’d hold down and thrive at her job, and she’d do her level best to stay out of harm’s way for more than a day or two at a time. When a person was on a first-name basis with most everyone at the police station and the emergency room, it probably wasn’t a good thing. Unless you actually worked there.
The first item on her self-improvement list involved convincing her detective almost-ex-husband, Jake, to sign their divorce papers. She’d finally gotten serious about the divorce and cut off the sleeping-together part about three weeks ago. They’d never gone that long before, so it was a new record, but he still hadn’t signed.
Next, she needed to make a success of her job as a Realtor and stop living off her famous mother. The living-off-her-mom part wasn’t going to be so easy. Shopping in designer boutiques and traveling to exotic places had become commonplace in her past life.
Actually, it had been the best part of her former life, but she’d been too young to appreciate it before she got married. Paying her own Visa bill that first time had been a life-altering experience. Those statements should come with some kind of health warning like cigarette packs do: “Your risk of a heart attack may increase after you see how irresponsible you’ve been this past billing cycle.”
But in order to keep her job and earn enough money to move out of her mother’s guesthouse, she planned to ignore the unwanted visions that kept popping into her head, the ones compelling her to share them with her ex.
Let Jake figure out “who done it” all on his own.
Jake never missed an opportunity to take advantage of her odd dreams and mostly right hunches about things, but sometimes her visions, ones that seemed to come out of nowhere, could be as confusing as sudoku puzzles to the math impaired.
Her little “extra abilities” were an unwanted burden, and keeping them a secret had always been a daunting task. But, by ignoring her secret woo-woo skills, she’d be able to put some distance between herself and Jake and stay out of the crosshairs of the criminals who loved to hate her after she helped throw them into jail.
Dani lengthened her stride as she approached the courthouse in downtown Albuquerque—yes, the same place Breaking Bad was filmed—to testify for the prosecution in another, and hopefully the last, of Jake’s stupid cases. A glance at her watch showed she was late.
Being on time was absolutely not on her self-improvement list because everyone needed a few vices to keep them interesting, didn’t they? But judges tended to be picky about that sort of thing, so she needed to get a move on.
Just as her stiletto landed on the bottom step, a familiar voice called out, “Dani?”
Michael Reilly.
Crap. Now what?
Michael was the first man she’d ever slept with—to her undying regret—and in a strange chain of events, he had become one of her mother’s many lawyers.
It was something they never talked about. The sleeping-together incident, not the lawyer aspect.
He looked like an extremely buff Ben Affleck, and she’d always been insanely attracted to him. But their complicated past threw a bucket of cold water on those desires.
Most of the time.
Pretending she didn’t hear him, Dani picked up speed, taking the slick stone steps two at a time. No easy task in three-inch Manolos. Michael had once been a starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys, however, and she was no match for his powerful strides.
“You’re a little overdressed for a jog, aren’t you, Botelli?” A large hand gently wrapped around her arm, thwarting her plans for escape.
She turned and stared into his gorgeous jade-green eyes. “I’m so late, Michael. Can we do whatever tedious lawyer thing you have in mind later?”
“Sure.” He smiled, exposing deep, sexy dimples. “If we wait until next week, I can just visit you in jail.” His eyes danced with mischief as he leaned so close his breath tickled her lips. “I bet you’ll look extremely hot in one of those orange jumpsuits.”
Okay, maybe it’d be worth her while to hear what the man had to say. While trying to keep her rising panic in check, along with her hormones, she gave him a casual shrug. “What’s the problem?”
He tugged her toward the courthouse, his hand still wrapped around her arm. She wasn’t going to think about the zing of pleasure his touch sent through her. The last time she’d let that affect her, they ended up sleeping together that one and only time.
She hadn’t meant to sleep with him, and every time she replayed it in her head, she still couldn’t remember what made him so irresistible that night.
It probably had to do with how they
used to be such good friends, his killer smile, and how he could kiss like no one else.
He lengthened his stride and said, “Let’s walk and talk. You were scheduled to testify five minutes ago.” His hand moved from her arm to around her shoulder, but it was no tender embrace. He was probably trapping her against his hard body so she couldn’t slip away.
He added, “Your mother is eager to clear up that pesky trespassing charge against you. And thank you for ignoring the three messages I left on that particular subject.” He slipped his large hand to her lower back, gently guiding her toward the metal detectors.
“Um . . . I’ve had a little problem with my cell, but it should be fixed soon.”
“It helps if you pay your bill on time.”
“Thanks for that clever tip.” Dani raised a brow, hoping to look indignant, but he was right. She wasn’t getting her next real estate commission check until Friday. And it was only Tuesday.
He blew out an impatient breath as he stepped through the metal detector. “Look at it this way. If your phone works, we don’t have to see nearly as much of each other.”
“Oh, but I so look forward to seeing your sneer in person.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “What were the calls about?”
The corners of his mouth tilted as he opened the heavy courtroom door, waiting until she entered first. If nothing else, Michael was the consummate gentleman, even when he was giving her a hard time.
“We’ll discuss it after your testimony. I’m looking forward to the show.”
She sent him an eye roll as a parting shot, then made her way toward the district attorney and Jake. Michael’s deep voice rang out behind her. “Knock ’em dead, slugger.”
Dani didn’t have time for a clever retort because a very rude and impatient man grabbed her arm and yanked her along with him to the front of the courtroom.
After she was seated on the witness stand, the court registrar asked, “Do you, Daniella Francesca Botelli, swear to tell the truth, so help you God?”
She hated when anyone used all of her names. It made her sound like one of those frozen Italian meals in a bag. “I do.” And this was going to be the last time she’d ever do this for Jake.
Really.
This time she meant it.
Michael settled into his seat, prepared to watch the curvy, olive-skinned Italian beauty testify. What had Jake dragged her into now? She’d been involved with the most bizarre legal tangles since she’d been with him. Divorcing that guy would be the best thing Dani could do for herself.
Not that he cared one way or the other.
It was days like this that he missed professional football, when all a guy had to do was win a ball game. Now he had to deal with the likes of Dani Botelli.
He tried to focus on her testimony but found it hard to concentrate when nerves had her chewing on her sexy, full bottom lip. She tossed her light-brown curly hair back and drew a deep breath. “I was making a deposit at the bank, and then that man”—Dani pointed to the defendant—“came in with a gun and told everyone to hit the floor.”
She’d just proven his point. How could anyone be at the scene of a crime as often as she was? She’d been an eyewitness three times in the last year. It was as if she knew the crimes were going to happen, then showed up to watch. What were the chances? But then, it was Dani. If there was trouble within a ten-mile radius, she had always ended up right in the middle of it. Ever since they were kids.
When she shifted her slender legs, causing her short skirt to rise higher on her thighs, he turned his attention to his phone. He needed to block the memory of those long legs wrapped around him.
He wasn’t there to lust after her. He was there to get Dani’s mother, Annalisa Botelli—not only one of the greatest actresses of all time but the most persistent woman on earth—off his back about Dani’s latest legal problem. Why Dani had felt the urge to scale the wall of the mayor’s mansion was still a mystery. One he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. But one phone call from her powerful mother had soothed everyone’s ruffled feathers, and they’d struck a deal to keep Annalisa’s little princess out of the slammer once again. However, this time there was a deadline to keep, and the police were growing impatient.
The defense lawyer’s voice rang out. “So what happened next, Ms. Botelli?”
As Dani recounted the crime, Michael stared at her again, not hearing her words. The timbre of her low, silky voice slipped into his mind, bringing back unwanted memories of how he used to love her. Like he’d never loved anyone else.
That was a painful road he’d never travel again, no matter how breathtaking the view.
After her testimony, Dani slipped through the retreating crowd, hoping to find Michael, avoid Jake, and then make a quick escape from the courthouse. She squinted into the bright midday New Mexico sunshine, spotting the angry goon who’d sent her death stares the whole time she’d testified against his twin brother. He stood across the street banging out something on his phone.
Quickly changing direction, she slipped behind the protection of the courthouse’s huge columns.
When she bumped into a hard chest, her heart nearly stopped. But then she recognized a familiar tailored gray suit, white shirt, and red power tie. “Oh, there you are, Michael.” Before she could ask what needed to be done to keep her out of jail, her name rang out behind her.
She turned as her ex strode toward her.
“We need to talk, babe.” Jake turned his attention toward Michael and lifted his chin in greeting. “Hey there, Counselor. Would you excuse us for a minute? I need to talk to my wife about something.”
Michael didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he dug out his cell and got busy reading the screen. Jake and Michael had always disliked each other. She wasn’t entirely sure why.
“It’s ex-wife, Jake,” Dani growled as he dragged her out of Michael’s earshot. “That is if you’d hurry up and sign the papers.”
No response from him. As usual.
When they were a few feet away, she stopped and slammed her hands onto her hips. “Ignoring this and hoping it goes away isn’t going to work this time, Jake. I haven’t changed my mind about the divorce, and I meant what I said about not sleeping with you anymore, babe.”
Jake’s response was a slow, patient grin that had her reconsidering the sleeping-together part. So sue her, he was damn cute. He stood there—all blond, six feet of him in his tight jeans, a badge tucked at his waist, chambray work shirt, and cowboy boots—knowing full well she was wavering.
Luckily, her new-and-improved sensibilities kicked in, reminding her that Jake was not going to be part of her future. At least not romantically, but she hoped they’d always be friends.
Jake’s gravelly voice lowered before he said, “Thinking about ways to get you into bed is one of my favorite pastimes, but this isn’t one of those times. There’s this new case—”
“No.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.”
“Work this case with me, and I’ll never ask for your help again.”
She gritted her teeth. “No, Jake, I mean it. I don’t want to do this anymore. And because of that big fancy speech you gave me about growing up and being responsible for myself, I have to spend some time actually listing and selling homes. Not solving crimes.”
“You may have seen this one on the news. The scumbag claims three men broke into his home, stole some electronics, then shot his wife and child. Said scumbag will conveniently receive enough from the insurance settlement to cover his massive debts with just enough left over to buy the twenty-one-year-old he’s been banging on the side a new diamond ring.”
Dani stared into Jake’s eyes. He had that look: the one that told her he’d not give up until he found the truth. It was the reason she’d fallen head over heels for him in her past screwed-up life. Jake was a rare person, who believed his gut instincts were really no different from her dreams and visions. If they could have gotten along as we
ll out of bed as in it, they’d still be together. “You think the guy shot his wife and then his own child?”
Shaking his head, Jake replied, “Stepkid. But I can’t find the gun. It has to be somewhere in the house. The neighbors heard gunshots, and within eight minutes, 9-1-1 was called by the guy himself. Claims he fell asleep in front of the television in the basement and, when he heard the shots, raced upstairs, catching only the backs of the intruders as they ran away.”
“What about the gunshot residue test?”
“Negative. I say he wore gloves, threw them into the fire—conveniently burning at ten fifty at night—and then hid the gun. I’ve had the home sealed off, but I’ll have to let him back in soon. He’s guilty, babe. I can feel it.”
Dani chewed her lower lip as she considered Jake’s request. His gut feelings were solid; he was never wrong. But she was trying to live a somewhat normal life. And that didn’t include invoking confusing visions of crime scenes.
And why did there have to be a little kid involved in this particular crime? What kind of person would she be if she didn’t help put anyone who’d harm a child behind bars? “So you just want me to make a quick run through the house and see if anything pops?”
He beamed a sweet, triumphant smile. “Yep. It’ll just take a few minutes.”
“Fine, but this is the last time, Jake,” she muttered and then turned and marched toward Michael as he ended a call. “Hey, Mr. Ever-Efficient Lawyer, when you go back to the office, would you ask Ron if we can get Jake another copy of our divorce papers? He keeps misplacing them.”
“Okay.” Michael stared into Jake’s eyes for a moment, then turned back to her. “But only if you’ll grace me with your presence at three o’clock this afternoon.”
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