by Karen Rock
Katherine smiled, happy for her friend.
“When are you two planning on getting married?” Amafo touched Katherine’s hand as the presenter announced individual awards. Wearing his World War II uniform, his Purple Heart pinned to his chest, he appeared every inch the proud great-grandfather. “Don’t know how many days I have left.”
“Stop pressuring, Amafo.” Nash’s mother, seated on her grandfather’s other side, leaned over and patted Katherine’s hand. “No need to rush. It’ll happen at the right time. Let them decide.”
Katherine nodded, knowing she’d already made up her mind. After an expanded search of Wheaton Prep had yielded Summer’s remains, Katherine had found a new inner peace. Work wasn’t her everything anymore. She wanted it all—career, marriage, and children—with Nash. Did he feel the same way? He’d asked her once about marriage. Yet he’d avoided the subject since. Did he still have commitment issues?
After several speeches and awards, the head of the academy strode to center stage. He was a tall, long-faced man with a no-nonsense bearing which hid a weakness for telenovelas and Ferrero Rocher chocolates, according to Nash.
“And finally, here to present the Strack Award, I’d like to introduce recruit school training coordinator Lt. Frank Turner.”
A dark-haired officer with square-framed glasses strode to a podium flanked by the U.S. and Texas state flags.
“Good morning. As with every school, there is always one student who stands out among their peers,” he announced. “It’s my privilege to tell you about someone strong and courageous, and about the award named in his honor. A unique award is presented to the recruit who embodies leadership, commitment, and service, the qualities personified by my former academy classmate, Nathan James Strack.”
A pained expression seized the speaker’s face, and he paused to clear his throat. Twice. “The Nathan Strack award serves two purposes. First, it perpetuates and reinforces that the Texas Department of Public Safety and the citizens of this state value the courage and enthusiasm, the dedication to duty, and unselfish service of people like Nathan.”
Katherine glanced over at Nash, who sat ramrod straight in his chair, listening closely.
“And second.” The speaker peered down at his notes, then looked up again. “It reminds us of the high price that can be extracted in carrying out this service while remembering one who made that ultimate sacrifice. Nathan James Strack.”
Fear trickled down Katherine’s spine as she listened while Lt. Turner recounted Nathan Strack’s tragic and inspiring story. Wearing a real uniform meant Nash faced real danger as well. Still. She believed in him. She’d doubted him once, and would never make such a mistake again.
“Although his life ended in the line of duty,” the academy trainer said, “his memory and the fine qualities he embodied continue through this award. Nate was my classmate and my friend, and today, it’s my honor to present the distinguished C-2018 award to a recruit who has demonstrated these exemplary characteristics: Nash Hawkins.”
Her mouth dropped open and applause thundered, loud enough to raise the church’s lofted roof. She watched through a blur of tears as Nash strode briskly to the stage. The pride burning in his eyes as he shook hands with the presenter swelled her heart to bursting. At last, he’d realized his dream to work in law enforcement and to honor his great-grandfather’s legacy of sacrifice and service.
To her surprise, Amafo rose and eased his way down the aisle. Katherine hurried after him, looped her arm in his, and guided him to the front of the room. They climbed the stage’s steps while Nash posed for a picture holding his award.
The officers snapped into a salute once they spied the decorated veteran. Amafo saluted in return and hugged Nash. As he stepped back, his fingers fumbled with his Purple Heart.
“It’s also my honor to bestow this medal on my great-grandson for his great spirit, bravery, and heart,” Amafo announced into the nearby microphone.
With Katherine’s help, they attached the medal to a stunned Nash’s uniform. The church walls practically vibrated from the stomping feet and unbridled cheering.
“May you walk in balance and beauty.” Amafo patted Nash’s cheek.
“Speech!” someone shouted.
The crowd took up the call, growing louder and louder. Nash’s role in taking down the Last Call Killer and rescuing Brittany Reins had made him a local hero. Just behind the cadets, a row of cheering elementary children held up a long banner spelling out “OUR HERO” in a rainbow of glittering letters, a beaming, recovered Brittany at one end.
“Good morning everyone, and thank you,” Nash began, extending the gooseneck microphone. “I’m honored and humbled by this award, and dedicate it to my fellow cadets who’ve earned a place on this stage beside me.”
His classmates rose and roared their approval.
Once they subsided, Nash continued. “There’s no greater calling than to dedicate your life in service of others. I pledge to serve my fellow citizens as Nathan Strack did, with courage and selflessness. However, there is one Dallas resident to whom I’d like to make a particular pledge—if you’ll indulge me. My girlfriend, Special Agent Katherine Bowden.”
Katherine’s mouth fell open, her heart squeezing hard. Once again, the crowd cheered, and Amafo beamed as Nash dropped to one knee and gathered her shaking hands in his.
“Katherine Bowden, you captivate and inspire me. You’ve motivated me to become a better man, the one humbly kneeling before you today. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done before, because I don’t ever want to do without you now.”
She literally couldn’t even breathe as she tried to memorize what he’d just said to her. His words were like magic, healing the last of her wounds and the crowd around her disappeared. The only person she saw was Nash kneeling in front of her.
He paused and cleared his throat. “I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning, and I want you safe in my arms when I fall asleep each night. I’m yours forever, Katherine. And you’re mine. You’ve made me whole and happy, happier than I’ve ever been. And if you let me, I’ll dedicate the rest of my life to making you feel the same way.”
He produced a small, black velvet box from his pocket, opened it, and held it up to her. The large, emerald-cut diamond ring nearly blinded her. Of course, the tears streaming down her cheeks didn’t help her vision either, but she was beyond caring.
“I love you with all my heart and soul. Katherine Bowden, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
She nodded, mute from the tsunami force of her joy. She didn’t think it was possible to love him more than she already did, but in this magical moment, when their eyes met, the pride and hope in his was palpable, and love blazed between them with an unyielding connection.
Nash rose to his feet and cradled her face. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “That’s a forever.”
“I can work with that,” he said through a smile. And then, to the pleasure of the cheering crowd, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her utterly and deliciously senseless.
Don’t miss the first book in the Dallas After Dark series.
Keep reading for a special excerpt of Reese and Blake’s story.
Detective Blake Knight has been undercover before. But an assignment to bust a steroid ring running out of Dallas’s elite male strip club means his new cover will be nothing but his own taut muscles and oiled skin. It’s one thing for the tough, by-the-books agent to take down bad guys with his gun. Facing a rowdy crowd in only a G-string is another story…especially in front of his new boss, gorgeous, mysterious Reese Landon.
Her father’s club and shady business practices bring back terrible memories for Reese. But when he’s shot and goes into a coma, she vows to protect him the way he never did her. That means keeping the police at a distance—especially sexy, dri
ven Detective Knight. If she has to give him a cover job, it would be a crime not to put that glorious ass on stage. But no matter how good he looks in a Velcro uniform, she can’t trust him, or give into the undeniable heat between them. They’re both chasing the truth. And it might expose more than either wants to show…
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Teaser Chapter
A brisk knock sounded a couple hours later. Reese rubbed bleary eyes and minimized a puzzling bank statement on her father’s laptop. “Come in!”
A tall, well-built man sauntered across the threshold, his lithe, animal grace drawing her eye. Kept her looking. He halted a few feet from her desk and the left side of his mouth rose before the right in a roguish smile, revealing slightly pointy canines and C-shaped dimples in lean cheeks. His smooth, caramel-colored skin got her wondering how he’d taste.
Oh. My.
He was the definition of eye candy.
“Ms. Landon?”
“Yes?” She shoved her messy hair behind her ears and tried not to stare. Try being the operative word, since she failed miserably. Despite a slightly crooked nose, pronounced jaw, and strong forehead over watchful blue eyes, his rugged features added up to an arresting face. He moved like a dancer but resembled a boxer, the strange, heady combination sending her blood somersaulting in her veins.
“May I?” He gestured to the door.
“I prefer it open, Mr.—”
He ran a hand over his close-cropped dark hair. “I’d rather keep that to myself with the door open…listeners lurking.”
Her breath stalled. The wolves circled already. Was he her father’s shooter? He resembled a hit man. The kind of guy movie scripts referred to as “the muscle.” Was he here to collect money her father owed? Her dad had borrowed from loan sharks before.
Reese snatched up her phone. “I’d like two coffees in my office now, please.” Her eyebrows rose at the man’s startled expression. She covered the mouthpiece. “Cream? Sugar?”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking like she’d caught him off balance. Good. Maybe she had. Either way, he couldn’t attack her with beverage service arriving any moment.
“Black.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans, the faded material riding low on narrow hips.
“Two black coffees, thanks.” She set the phone in the cradle and pointed to the chair in front of her father’s desk.
He slid into it, dwarfing the piece. “I’d appreciate a moment with you in private, Ms. Landon.”
“I’m sure you would,” she answered smoothly, doing her best to act like she spoke with petty criminals every day. He might not be one. Yet something about him—an electricity, the way his eyes lasered in on her—made her jumpy and aware, maybe even a little afraid, if the goosebumps on her arms were any sign.
“What can I do for you?” Her fingernails dug into the desk’s soft underside. The wall safe caught her eye.
Suddenly, a badge appeared in his hand. The metal gleamed, sharp and bright, against his calloused palm. In the next instant, it vanished. What the hell? She’d never met an officer who looked like a thug before. Just the clean-cut, starched-uniform types.
One who’d acted like a criminal, she amended.
The bartender arrived, carrying a small tray with steaming mugs of coffee. A red rose in a bud vase bloomed beside them. He shoved a cup at the stranger then smiled wide as he handed Reese her coffee and presented her with the flower.
“To brighten your day.”
“Thanks.” She buried her nose in the fragrant bloom, mind racing. Did she want her employee to stay or go?
When her gaze lifted, she met the police officer’s eyes. Humor sparked in them at her bartender’s cheesy bow and, despite her wariness, the twinkle disarmed her.
“That’s all—ah—” Shoot. She didn’t know the guy’s name.
He swung his empty tray by his side. “I’m Bryan, with a y, though there’s no question about me. I’m a sure thing.”
She sputtered on her sip of coffee, and the cop’s lips twitched. Did this crap actually work on women?
“Good to know, Bryan with a y,” she said evenly. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”
He flipped back his tousled bangs and squinted at her, Blue Steel-style, before stalking from the room. She blew out a breath and shook her head. Bryan came on stronger than the coffee.
“The guy’s got game,” the officer observed smoothly, then gulped his drink, a playful look in his eyes.
“Do you think he practices those lines, or comes up with them on the spot?” She clamped her mouth shut. What the hell was she doing joking around with a cop?
He lowered his coffee and grinned. “To achieve that degree of sophistication, I’d say no thought whatsoever.”
Laughter bubbled inside and bulged her cheeks as she held it back. She had to give it to the officer, he was funny…but he was still a cop, she reminded herself.
The officer’s face grew sober. He pointed at the door again. “May I? What I have to say is sensitive.”
She nodded, wary but intrigued. He was a strange mixture of business and play, turning those sides of himself on and off at whiplash speed.
Another fortifying gulp of coffee perked her up, the bitter black starching her spine. Whatever this cop had for her, she was ready.
Bring it.
“What can I do for you, Officer—” she asked after he’d checked the area beyond her door, closed it, and resumed his seat.
“Knight. Blake Knight. I’m a detective with the Dallas Police Department’s narcotics unit.”
She set down her mug. “Interesting uniform…” And a sexy one, considering the way his white tee stretched across his broad chest. The fitted shirt revealed taut, shifting abdominals whenever he moved, or breathed, or—oh, God. Was she staring? Again? She forced her eyes upward and caught the alluring sparkle in his eyes. Yep. She’d been staring.
Busted.
“Glad you like it.” His deep rumble of a voice filled the room, amusement edging each word.
Get a grip, girl. She pulled her chair closer to the desk and lifted her chin.
“So, you’re the one who’s been calling me all day.” She arched an eyebrow. “Can’t take a hint?”
“I don’t take no for an answer.” His deep blue eyes sunk into hers.
A shiver of awareness danced down her spine at his calm, assured expression. She sensed a lethal force behind that easy smile. A man who took what he wanted and caught what he chased.
If she was his target, though, he’d be disappointed. Time to turn the tables and pursue the information she needed. “What can you tell me about my dad, beyond where and when he was shot?”
“Without a witness, there isn’t much. My officers are following up on a few leads. That’s all we’ve got for now.”
“Thanks for the information-filled update. Be sure to have Bryan validate your parking on the way out.” She returned her attention to her dad’s computer and tapped its keyboard by way of dismissal, frustrated at Officer Knight’s caginess. He had to know more than he said.
“I’m leading a steroids-ring investigation in this area,” he continued without missing a beat. “We’ve recently lost our informant.”
“What does this have to do with my family?”
He drummed his fingertips together, his eyes unreadable. “Your father was our informant.”
Shock waves ran through her.
“S-say that again.”
“Your father agreed to cooperate with us.”
A haze clouded her vision. “And why would he work with you?”
“Because we threatened to shut down the club for serving minors.”
She bolted to her feet, her body shaking. “You’ve
been blackmailing him? Making him cooperate in an investigation that could get him killed? Do you know how far he’ll go to keep this club afloat? Since my mother passed, this is all he has.”
And me, though he’d never seen it that way, no matter how hard she’d tried snagging his attention, winning his approval. Maybe if she caught his killer, things would finally change between them, and she’d have the loving father who’d practically disappeared after her mother died. The one she missed, wanted, and still needed.
“Please. Calm down, Ms. Landon.” He spread his hands, the cursory gesture not reassuring her one bit. “And accept my sympathies for what happened to your father.”
Her teeth ground together. “I need answers, Detective, not your pity. I’m assuming you’ve connected your case with my dad’s attack?”
He nodded. “I can’t share much, but yes. I need your help.”
“You’re asking for favors, but won’t give me anything in return. In what universe does that work?”
When he leaned in close, unease swept through her. More than his impressive height and build, something in his bearing spoke of back-alley fights and knives in the dark. “Assassin” fit him better than “officer.” Maybe he wasn’t as different from Officer Bates as she thought. They faced each other for a long moment, separated by the desk, their breaths coming short and fast as they stared each other down.
His wide shoulders lifted and fell. “Justice is all I care about. Fairness isn’t a consideration.”
“Bryan with a y would get more cooperation from me than you,” she fired back.
“Bryan isn’t going to catch your father’s shooter, is he?” He angled his face, jaw tight.
She didn’t so much sit as her legs buckled. “No,” she admitted at last. “Though there isn’t much I can tell you, either.” Or not a lot that she would. If she let them snoop around the business, serving minors might be the least of the offenses leading to Dallas Heat’s shutdown.
Officer Knight propped a sneaker over his opposite knee. “A uniform will be down to question you about your father. I’m after something else altogether.”