by Box Set
“I love you Roxie. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding at the diner. I wasn’t bragging about sleeping with you the way you think. I understand now what John Stone meant. Never leave a woman unsatisfied… it’s not just sexually. The moments I spent with you when you smiled at me, when we laughed, when I felt I was helping you… they gave me pleasure. They satisfied me, too. As a man. In every way.” He took her hands to his lips, and brushed his mouth on her knuckles. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a minute, and she thought her knees would give out.
“Wow. I love you too.”
He pulled her to him, those long arms encircling her. Oh how she loved the sensation. “Really?”
She grinned. Why deny what all of her being was screaming at her? “Yes. That’s what made forgetting you so hard.”
“You don’t have to worry anymore,” he said and covered her lips with his in a kiss that gave her goose bumps. All her nerve endings scorched in response, and she could just tell her stupid Polo short tightened against her hardening nipples. Or was it the lack of oxygen? “Come with me. Hank will take over the bus, and Carrie is meeting your group for the tour.”
“You think I will just drop everything for the chance of a peek at your new place?” she asked, teasing him.
“I’m dropping everything too. Besides, I’m cashing in on a promise…” he said, lowering enough to whisper in her ear.
“What promise?”
“Something about finishing… anywhere I want,” he said.
She blushed, and kissed him. When she looked behind her shoulders, she heard some clapping, but the sound of the engine driving away thankfully warned her Hank was doing his part of the bargain. She followed Stefano into that beautiful house, laughing, and knowing in her heart, they would finish together.
Acknowledgments
I’ve been having such a wonderful time getting to know the eleven other authors in this anthology. Ladies, thanks for being a part of this journey.
I’m so grateful for Christine Glover. Christine, you’re a generous and amazing CP. I’m so glad we became friends and partners in book crime.
I love Jayne Wolfe, my editor. Jayne, I’m in awe of your professionalism, patience and awesomeness. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.
Dina Bushrod, thanks so much for beta reading this puppy.
Jodi Linton, thanks for introducing me to the world of GIFs. Seriously, I will miss you when you move. Sigh. We’ll always have Facebook…
Dear Reader, you freaking ROCK. (mic drop)
About the Author
Carmen Falcone learned at an early age that fantasizing about fictional characters beat doing math homework any day. Brazilian by birth and traveler by nature, she moved to Central Texas after college and met her broody Swiss husband--living proof that opposites attract. She found in writing her deepest passion and the best excuse to avoid the healthy lifestyle everyone keeps talking about. When she's not lost in the world of romance, she enjoys spending time with her two kids, being walked by her three crazy pugs, reading, catching up with friends, and chatting with random people in the checkout line. She loves to procrastinate, so please indulge her and drop her a line.
For more information
www.carmenfalcone.com
Also by Carmen Falcone
A Weekend of Misbehaving
A Night of Misbehaving
Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon
Her Unwanted Hero
By Veronica Forand
Edited by Cameron Yeager
Her Unwanted Hero
Police officer Griffin Alexander couldn’t save his mother from his father temper, but he’ll do anything to keep Trinity Estrada safe from her abusive father. Even if that means losing her in the process.
Rule #4: A real man always helps someone in need... he may be the only one who does.
Chapter 1
“Car 35.” The squad car radio roused Sergeant Griffin Alexander from his survey of Wrexham, Pennsylvania. The voice was Shelly, one of the veteran dispatchers. She always spoke with a touch of a southern accent and an air of calm. “Request for medical assistance, and a possible domestic disturbance. Ambulance en route.” She provided him with the address and a few details from the 911 call.
So far tonight he’d driven around for a few hours, checking on the other three patrol cars in the area and making sure the quiet town remained that way on his watch. Earlier that evening he’d pulled over a car for running a stop light, and responded to a minor fender bender. With only one more hour left to his shift, this last call would either get him home earlier, or keep him up all night. At the moment, he wasn’t feeling the need for an adrenaline hit. A beer, a glance at the night’s baseball scores, and a good nine hours of shut-eye were the top of his wish list.
“Car 35 headed to the location.” He hated domestic disturbances. The term was too generic. Nothing was ever generic about these situations. It could be a willful teenager, a woman locked out of her house with her husband asleep upstairs, or worse, a drunk guy using his wife as a punching bag, as his father had done with his mother. Every call out threw him back into his childhood for a moment. He remembered being terrified and unable to function on the nights alcohol possessed his father’s mood. He’d always hid in his room during these violent episodes until at the age of seventeen he finally stood his ground and defended his mother.
The result was not what he’d expected. His father had called the police and had him arrested for assault. His mother stood by mute when they escorted him away in handcuffs.
That had been the last time he’d seen his family. His aunt and uncle had pressed the court to send him to a ranch for troubled youth in Montana, instead of being sent to a local facility in the juvenile justice system. He’d always be thankful that they’d stepped in to help him. The wide-open spaces and hard physical labor involved in working on a ranch gave him time to imagine a better future for himself. He’d been happy being far away from his problems until he received a call five months later. His mother was dead. Domestic violence. The son of a bitch had punched her so many times she’d bled out on the floor of the pale pink kitchen where she’d baked Griffin and his brother cookies after school. His father ended up in prison, his brother moved in with their aunt and uncle, and Griffin remained at the ranch for another year and then enrolled in the police academy. That was ten years ago.
He drove his cruiser to the Redfern Lane address Shelly had radioed to him, one of the poorest neighborhoods in town. The community worked hard to create a haven for their families. The place was well cared for, and everyone looked out for one another. They welcomed a police presence in the area, which helped him do his job better.
Number 132, a small blue ranch house with untrimmed bushes and a broken driveway, however, needed some love. Whoever owned this house didn’t keep up with the neighbors. An ambulance, lights on and sirens blazing, drove up behind him and parked. It had to be Stone. The guy had never perfected when to use the sirens and when to just have the lights warn the neighborhood that he was on the road.
“Griffin. Glad you’re here. We might need backup.” Stone was an EMT who had never bothered becoming a paramedic. Instead, he relied on technical support from his partner, Alice. She was the brains of the twosome. Stone was the brawn. In that line of work, muscle helped.
Griffin hurried over to them. “What have you heard?”
“911 call for a sick mother, then an argument, and the phone went dead,” Stone replied.
Griffin went to the door first, as was the protocol in domestic violence cases. Stone and Alice stood a good distance behind him with a first aid kit and the stretcher.
His night at home had just evaporated. “Do you know the occupants?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Marco Estrada. The phone call came from Trinity Estrada.”
“Trinity from the Indigo cafe?” Trinity was the reason he tolerated greasy food every night for dinner. They’d shared such an easy camaraderie over the years that everyone always
assumed they were together, but he’d never had the guts to change their close friendship into something infinitely better, not without placing her in an awkward situation among everyone in town. Instead, they flirted and laughed between large cups of coffee and a love of the Phillies.
“I can’t believe it myself. She’s never so much as frowned at anyone. If someone is pushing her around, I may have to take a few swings.”
“Let’s not escalate the situation. Focus on the mother.”
Stone frowned at the mention of doing his job instead of angling for a date. “I should have gone to the police academy. You have more action than I do.”
Stone had only an inkling of the pressure and stress a police officer lived with even off-duty. Trying to do the right thing had never been more difficult. Finding someone to share his crazy life with had been all but impossible. The women Griffin had dated in the past wanted men with less stressful jobs, more predictable schedules, and higher salaries. Trinity, however, worked harder than he did. When they spoke together, the rest of the room sort of disappeared around them. Did she feel the same way? He had no idea.
Griffin knocked. After almost a minute, the door opened. The occupant was a Hispanic male, mid-fifties maybe, dark hair, medium build. Trinity’s father? His balance was off, and the second he opened his mouth, Griffin could smell beer.
“Hi. I’m Sergeant Alexander. We received a call for an ambulance. Can we come in?”
“My wife is not feeling well.” He spoke with a friendly disposition. “Everything is fine. I’m going to drive her to the hospital. She doesn’t need an ambulance.” He moved to close the door, but Griffin placed his foot in the way. Not a textbook move, but his gut told him to keep the door open. He’d seen many people try to get away from ambulances since insurance sometimes didn’t cover the transport, but if Mrs. Estrada needed immediate help that might be the best way to get her there.
“My boss hates when I don’t follow through on all medical issues. The paperwork alone is going to keep me at the station until sunrise.” He wouldn’t mention the real reason he was standing there. The underlying threat of violence that was hidden behind tight manners and controlled smiles. If the guy thought his presence was strictly to assist the ambulance, he might be more forthcoming. “At least let the professionals give her a once over. If she checks out, we’re out of here.”
The hesitation faded and Estrada opened the door. Alice and Stone followed Griffin into the premises. The house was actually quite pretty inside. Bright colors, very clean. Probably all Trinity’s doing. Her vibrancy never faded no matter how long her shift lasted at the diner, which combined with all her coursework at Penn State should make her one grumpy, tired person.
An older woman was lying on the couch, dressed in cotton pajamas, graying hair behind her back as though someone had fixed it to be out of the way. The woman appeared weak and her breathing was slow and difficult, yet, an aura of elegance surrounded her, a once queen whose reign was coming to an end.
Trinity was nowhere in sight. Tempted to look for her, Griffin edged his way to the far side of the room near the kitchen.
Estrada wasn’t friendly, but he wasn’t arguing either. He remained close to Stone as Alice approached Mrs. Estrada and knelt by her side, introducing her to the team and asking permission to obtain her vital signs.
The woman patted the back of Alice’s hand as though comforting a child. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Ask my aide, she knows. She’s here somewhere.”
“Sergeant Alexander can speak with her while I check you out, just to make sure everything is truly okay.” Alice looked over at Griffin and shrugged.
He scanned the room, but would need permission to search outside of the immediate vicinity. “Can I have the name of your aide, ma’am?”
The woman didn’t respond. Instead, she gasped for breath and clutched her hand to her chest. Her trauma flicked a switch with Alice and Stone, they worked together as though partners in a tightly choreographed dance.
As the emergency unfolded, Estrada moved closer to his wife. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking her with the gentleness of a husband watching his wife in pain. “She’s getting worse than she was. It’s her breathing.”
“She’s in cardiac arrest,” Stone told him while he and Alice shifted her to the stretcher.
Trinity appeared from one of the other rooms. Still dressed in her uniform of blue jeans and a black Indigo Diner t-shirt, she ran to her mother’s side. “Mom? It’s okay. They’re going to get you help. It’ll be okay.” She turned to her father, her expression unreadable. “She’s going to the hospital with the professionals, Papa. I’m going with them.”
He nodded. “I’ll follow in my car.”
Not such a great idea. There was no way he’d pass a sobriety test. Griffin turned to Trinity. He wasn’t about to let him drive when he was so off-balance and clearly had been drinking.
“Can you drive?” He addressed her as a stranger. After a few rookie mistakes in his early years on the force, he’d learned never to say anything in a situation where he didn’t understand all the players, so he didn’t acknowledge that he and Trinity were friends from the diner. The ambulance team did the same.
“I don’t have my license.” This was one fact about her he’d never known, and he knew a lot about her, from the courses she took at the Penn State Brandywine campus to her favorite holiday, Christmas. She grabbed a backpack, completely swept up in her mother’s care.
“Can I ride in the ambulance, Officer?”
“Go ahead. Sit up front next to the driver. Let them do their job. I’ll follow with your father.”
Her tension softened. “Thanks.”
Her father seemed genuinely concerned about his wife, but ignored his daughter. He grabbed his wallet and car keys off a table by the front door. Griffin remained behind to speak with him.
“Do you need a ride to the hospital, sir?”
“I need my car. So I’ll meet them there.”
“Problem is, I can’t let you drive if you’re under the influence of alcohol. Let’s not make a bad night worse. I’ll drive you there and back.”
Estrada gave him the drunk man stare. It was supposed to appear intimidating, but the alcohol dampened the intensity. “I had one drink.”
“So you wouldn’t mind taking a Breathalyzer?”
“Are you kidding me?” He stepped closer to Griffin, but stopped when Griffin raised a Go ahead, make my day brow.
“No, sir. I smell alcohol on your breath, you’ve been slurring your words, and twice I’ve seen you lose your balance.”
“Fucking unbelievable.” Estrada turned away from him and chucked the keys across the room, hitting the wall, but otherwise causing no damage.
Griffin leaned against the wall and tried to appear as non-confrontational as possible, but with a good six inches over Mr. Estrada, it wasn’t easy. If Estrada made one hostile move in his direction, Griffin might have to arrest him. That wouldn’t be the best way to cultivate a relationship with his daughter. “I’d be more than happy to transport you to the hospital.”’
Estrada wiped his face in the palm of his hand and nodded. “Thanks.”
They arrived at the hospital and entered the emergency room waiting area, a mob scene of crying children, and older people falling asleep. Estrada walked in first, but Griffin stayed close behind him to make sure he wasn’t disruptive.
Jill, the receptionist, waved.
“How’s business tonight?” Griffin asked.
“Busy, what are you here for?” The woman ran a tight ship, but she could wrangle the worst patients and their families into compliance. Which meant rare visits to the ER to break up fights or other situations.
“I’m transporting this gentleman to see his wife.”
“What’s her name?”
“Maria Estrada.”
Jill typed something into the computer and then sent them inside the main set of doors to a more quiet waiting area. T
rinity sat in a blue vinyl chair, her arms wrapped around herself as though her sole comfort. She appeared younger than her twenty-six years in the jeans, t-shirt, and the dark ponytail she wore to work every night.
Her father went to the main desk to talk to someone. Griffin kept an eye on him in case he lost control, then, seeing him have a fairly friendly conversation with the nurse at the desk, strolled over and sat in the chair next to Trinity. “How’s your mother?”
“I have no idea. They wheeled her in, and she disappeared behind the automatic doors. I was told to wait here.”
“Mind some company?”
“Don’t you have to work?” It was a more welcoming question than a rebuff, but not a direct invitation to stay.
“I’m almost done with my shift, besides it’s good to follow up after a call.” Extra time with Trinity made staying on the job for a few more hours worth it.
***
Griffin’s presence relaxed her after the scare of seeing her father run at her and fling the phone from her hands. Although the moment she’d seen Griffin in her house gaining firsthand knowledge of her dysfunctional family life, she’d been mortified. Work and home never mixed, and Griffin was firmly on the work side of her life. A customer. Okay, more than just a customer. A really handsome friend with broad shoulders and blond streaks that created an almost angelic glow through his brown hair. He had been her imaginary boyfriend during the most stressful moments of her life. They’d eaten together at birthday parties and at Alice’s baby shower a year before, but nothing quite as intimate as a waiting room at a hospital.
Did she want company? Her father was here, but when he was drunk, he wasn’t a real father. He was more like an angry demon who needed to be avoided. The way he’d flung her phone across the room made her at least happy that he hadn’t flung Trinity. She wanted her mother safe and the whole episode done. For now, her father was acting polite and responsible. In the morning, he’d be back to normal, and they could carry on with her father watching Mama during the day and Trinity taking over from about midnight to ten the next morning when she had to leave for school and work. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d remain well behaved for too long, but maybe just long enough.