Obsession
© 2009 Sharon Cullen
A Love on the Edge Romance
Only a year ago, Officer Alex Juran and his wife Tess had it all. Love, a solid marriage and a baby on the way. Then in one heartbeat they lost everything.
Now, Tess is doing her best to move on. She has a thriving business and while she may be lonely at times, she’s proud of the new life she’s built without Alex.
Two days before their divorce is final, Alex is shot in the line of duty and left for dead. He faces a difficult recovery so Tess finds herself postponing the divorce and offering to care for him until he can live alone again.
At first, cohabitation is little more than combat. Alex’s incapacitating injuries, the looming divorce, and his inability to remember who shot him have him lashing out at the nearest target: Tess. When someone begins stalking her, he suspects his shooter has returned. Convinced that Tess is in danger, Alex becomes desperate to recover his strength.
Because no matter how much she’s hurt him in the past, they’ve been given a second chance—and he’ll do anything to protect his wife.
Warning: This book does not come with a box of Kleenex, so please grab one before you start reading. Contains two people struggling to learn to love again, along with sex, violence and realistic language. And some very hot cops.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Obsession:
Tess opened her eyes and pushed the hair out of them to look at the clock but it still wasn’t there. “Damn, Alex, it’d be nice to know what time it is.”
She couldn’t really be angry at him. Not when he’d gone to such lengths to finish her Christmas season for her. If watching him struggle to bake cookies hadn’t told her how much she loved him, then curling up next to his warmth last night had.
She didn’t know how many times he’d woken her, forcing her to swallow her medicine and drink the fluids the doctor recommended. His thoughtfulness surprised her, and yet she remembered a time, long ago, before careers got in the way, when he’d been the same man he was last night—tender, thoughtful, generous and loving.
A lone tear leaked out of her clenched eyes. It wouldn’t last. It never did. He’d go back to his career and slowly drift away from her.
Rolling to her side, she pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes again, willing herself back to the oblivion of sleep.
Small things broke her concentration. The slam of a car door, the slurp-slurp of Othello drinking out of his water bowl, the low murmur of the television, the soft hiss of the furnace right before it kicked on.
As sure as sunshine in July, she knew Alex was somewhere in this house. How often had she awoken with that knowledge?
Not often enough.
She was reluctant to face him, yet knew she couldn’t hide forever. What would they talk about?
Face it, Tess, you have nothing in common with your husband.
They’d been living together for almost two weeks. Two weeks of constant activity between baking, delivering, shuttling him from doctor appointments to physical therapy. Weeks of avoiding the topic of divorce. They hadn’t sat down and had a normal conversation in months. Now she feared they’d forgotten how.
Thirty minutes later Tess emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and wearing clean flannel pajamas under her robe. Her bones felt like rubber but she was tired of lying in bed so she headed for the living room.
The flickering of the television screen mingled with the flickering of the tree and fireplace. Alex was slouched in one corner of the couch, his bad leg resting on the coffee table, the other leg bent at the knee. A longneck bottle of beer dangled from his hand. Ragged jeans hugged his thighs and lay loose across his abdomen. A faded gray University of Cincinnati sweatshirt hitched up slightly to reveal a small sliver of skin between the jeans and shirt. His hair looked like he’d been raking his hands through it.
“You look better.” His brown eyes reflected the fire in the grate.
“That’s some compliment, coming from you.”
He smiled and set the beer bottle on the table beside the couch. Using both hands, he grasped his bad knee, lowered his leg to the floor, grabbed his cane and stood. “You’re probably hungry. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
“I can get it.”
He hobbled to the kitchen, his gait stiff until he’d walked a few steps. “No problem.”
Tess followed. “What time is it? I think someone stole my alarm clock.”
“That would be me. Want to file a report?”He looked over his shoulder and threw her a grin that had her stopping in her tracks and trying to regain her breath. It’d been a long time since she’d seen that grin and Lord, how she’d missed it.
She cleared her throat and continued on to the kitchen. “What good would it do? You’ve got an in with the cops around here.”
He laughed—a rich, deep sound that vibrated through her and made her heart ache. They used to laugh like that all the time. Before things fell apart.
“Did you get the cookies delivered?” She looked around the pristine kitchen. Every speck of flour had been wiped away. Every pan cleaned and stored. The appliances gleamed.
Alex opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside. “Yup, all done.”
Tess glanced at the digital clock on the stove. Eight o’clock. “You managed to make all the deliveries and clean up by eight?”
Alex backed out of the refrigerator, the makings of a ham sandwich in his hands. “That was yesterday, Tess.”
“Yesterday? Are you saying I slept over twenty-four hours? That means today is—”
“Christmas.” He slapped thick slices of ham on rye bread and slathered it with mustard, just the way she liked it.
“I slept through Christmas Eve? And Christmas day? Oh, Alex, I’m sorry. You were all alone on Christmas.”
“No need to apologize. I’ve done the same to you once or twice.”
Taken aback, she just stood there, twisting the belt of her robe in her hands. What could she say? He had abandoned her on many a Christmas Eve, but for him to acknowledge it was a huge step and one that left her confused.
He reached into the fridge again, pulled out a can of root beer and handed it to her. “You’ll have to carry this. I only have one free hand.”
Tess followed him into the living room, matching her pace to his. He placed the plate on the coffee table and sank into the couch with a sigh. She stood in front of him, still stunned she’d slept so long and missed most of Christmas.
Alex held his arm out, indicating the spot next to him where she could curl into his side. “Sit beside me, Tess.”
She clutched the cold can and looked at his outstretched arm. Her wobbly legs gave out and she sank into the opposite end of the couch.
Alex’s arm dropped, disappointment evident in the crease of his brow. Tess reached for her plate and ate her sandwich, chewing methodically while not tasting anything.
They watched It’s a Wonderful Life in silence while the fire crackled in the grate and the dog snored at Tess’s feet. The heat from the flames made her drowsy, but she refused to fall asleep. She wouldn’t abandon Alex on Christmas night too.
After the credits stopped rolling and an infomercial began, Alex turned the TV off, but he continued to stare at the blank screen, occasionally lifting the beer bottle and taking a swallow.
The sandwich sat heavy in Tess’s stomach. She took a sip of root beer to calm the churning.
This is what you dreaded, isn’t it? Not the lack of communication, but the lack of having anything to say to each other.
Her gaze darted around the room, flitting here and there, everywhere but at Alex. She settled on the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Her attention sharpened, focused. She pushed herself up from the couch and walked with slow, hesitant steps to the tree where she touched the apple-shaped bell, sending a merry tinkling through the still house. Her gaze shifted to the bear pulling a tree behind him and then to the red glass globe pain
ted with the Cincinnati skyline.
Memories hit her with enough force to double her over in pain. Only the weight of Alex’s watchful gaze kept her back stiff.
When she swung around to face him, his brown eyes bore into hers, daring her to say something.
“When did you do this?”
“Two days ago.”
“You had no right—”
“I had every right.”
“How do you figure? We’re—”
“Still married.”
She took an involuntary step back, startled at his angry tone. He had a tight hold on the beer bottle and his shoulders were tense. He acted as if he hadn’t known. Surely his attorney had told him she’d canceled the court date. Surely Alex had known she would never dissolve their marriage while he was in the hospital.
His lips thinned into a tight line, his eyes narrowed.
He hadn’t known.
But he knew now.
Oh, God.
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