“I like hearing you say that.”
“I like saying it.”
“I love you too, Daria. All you have to do is say yes,” he said softly in her ear. And then he kissed her and gazed into her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered and the smile that filled her eyes said it all.
Heâd ask her again when she wasn’t drugged up on pain medicine. But one thing Kevin knew for sure was that Daria was right. As long as he was with her, heâd be home.
The End.
The story continues with RECKLESS HOURS, the story of Dylan Montgomery and Tammie Gardner. Download RECKLESS HOURS here: http://littl.ink/+1PAa
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Dear Reader:
Thank you so much for reading SAFE HAVEN, book 2 of the Heroes of Providence story. Iâve loved this story and couldnât wait to finally share it with readers. If you enjoyed the book, please tell a friend and consider writing a review online to help others learn about SAFE HAVEN and the Heroes of Providence series.
Iâm so exciting about the next 3 books in the series which are really a subset of the series. They are:
RECKLESS HOURS, book 3
DESPERATE HOURS, book 4
FINAL HOURS, book 5
Even though these books are a subset of the whole series, you will be revisiting characters in all the books in the series. I introduced some intrigue in DAKOTA HOMECOMING where Julian McKinnon was working on the case where Cash Montgomery (hero of FINAL HOURS) goes missing. And you met Dylan Montgomery (hero in RECKLESS HOURS) in SAFE HAVEN. RECKLESS HOURS will continue the story and intrigue. I donât want to give too much away, but I have included the first chapter in RECKLESS HOURS at the end of this book to give you a taste of whatâs to come.
You wonât want to miss a single book in the Heroes of Providence series so make sure you sign up for my newsletter at http://eepurl.com/xhxO5 and follow me on Bookbub at https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisamondello.
All my best,
Lisa Mondello
Ebooks by Lisa Mondello
HEROES OF PROVIDENCE
Material Witness
Safe Haven
Reckless Hours
Desperate Hours
Final Hours
Cold Harbor
DAKOTA HEARTS
Her Dakota Man book 1 of Dakota Hearts
Badland Bride book 2 of Dakota Hearts
Dakota Heat book 3 of Dakota Hearts
Wild Dakota Heart book 4 of Dakota Hearts
His Dakota Bride book 5 of Dakota Hearts
Dakota Wedding book 6 of Dakota Hearts
His Dakota Heart book 7 of Dakota Hearts
Dakota Cowboy book 8 of Dakota Hearts
One Dakota Night book 9 of Dakota Hearts
Dakota Homecoming book 10 of Dakota Hearts
TEXAS HEARTS
Her Heart for the Asking - book 1 Texas Hearts
His Heart for the Trusting - book 2 Texas Hearts
The More I See - book 3 Texas Hearts
Gypsy Hearts - book 4 Texas Hearts
Leaving Liberty â book 5 Texas Hearts
His Texas Heart - book 6 Texas Hearts
The Wedding Dress - book 7 Texas Hearts
Texas Hearts Box Set (Books 1-3)
FATE WITH A HELPING HAND
All I Want for Christmas is You - book 1
The Marriage Contract â book 2
The Knight and Maggieâs Baby â book 3
My Lucky Charm - book 4
Tempting Fate Box Set (books 1-3)
SUMMER HOUSE
Moment in Time book 1 Summer House Series
Moment of Impact book 2 Summer House Series
Moment of Truth book 3 Summer House Series
Moment of Trust book 4 Summer House Series
RODEO KNIGHTS
Her Knight, Her Protector
Nothing But Trouble (Contemporary Western Romance)
Amazon UK Readers order books here: http://amzn.to/OGR0i7
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For up to date information on new releases, visit me at http://www.lisamondello.blogspot.com or write me at [email protected]
Bonus Material:
RECKLESS HOURS by Lisa Mondello
Chapter One
Take one step closer and Iâll shoot!â Tammie Gardner shouted threateningly, putting her hands up like a shield.
Bill stood in her classroom doorway and frowned. âTammie, we need to talk.â
âLater, Professor Lewis,â she said, lifting her head only long enough to catch his expression after the formal use of his name, which he hated but she loved to tease him with. âIâve just spent the last two hours sorting through all these papers. Itâs a mess, but itâs an organized mess. I donât need you sitting on my desk and tossing things around like you always do.â
This being only her second semester at Winchester College, she wasnât used to how hectic the end of the school year was, and time had gotten away from her. With her full class schedule, she was fighting time to get all her grades completed by the end of the semester.
As a moment of silence dragged on, she glanced up. Bill was still frowning. âIâm serious. I need to talk to you, Tammie. This is really important.â
She chuckled, even as nerves made her stomach coil just a bit. Sheâd never seen Bill like this. Still, she waved him off. âOf course it is. It always is. But can it wait until I get these grades into the book?â
To keep the papers from flying around the room, Tammie had turned off the fan that normally bathed her face with a somewhat comfortable breeze in the oppressive June heat. This hundred-year-old university building seemed determined to remain hot, and her second-floor classroom felt like a sauna. Without the fan, sweat bubbled on her forehead and upper lip. She wiped it away as she glanced quickly at the door again.
âActuallyâ¦no.â
âWhat are you doing back on campus so early, anyway? I thought you had some urgent, urgent errand to run.â Not looking at him, she searched her desk for paperclips. When she found half a box, she started clipping and stacking papers until she could see her desk again.
âTam, we need to talk,â Bill said again. This time, his words came out in a rush. It wasnât like him to be this insistent and it caught her off guard. She recalled the conversation theyâd had this morning when heâd mentioned his errand. He never said what it was and she didnât ask. Bill was too predictable to be someplace other than where he said heâd be. Ever since sheâd met him in junior-high school, sheâd been able to anticipate his every move before he made it.
He was the most levelheaded, even-keeled person sheâd ever metânot one to get rattled about anything. But he was still standing at the door, his narrow shoulders slumped slightly, his expression drawn. Her blood ran cold.
Bill was the head of the departmentâher friend, but also her boss. Had the college decided not to renew her contract? Oh, please not that. Not more bad news. This job is all thatâs kept me together this past year.
âDo you really have to make it this scary, Bill?â
He didnât respond. After a moment of strained silence, save for the janitor whistling âSinging in the Rainâ down the hall, Tammy said, âBill…?â
It was then that she spotted the thick white envelope in Billâs hand. Somehow, she hadnât noticed it when heâd walked into the room.
He heaved a heavy sigh. âYouâre going to need to sit down for this.â
She did, her heart hammering against her ribs, and the air in the room feeling like a vacuum squeezing the breath from her lungs.
A few quick strides across the room, and Bill handed her the envelope. She glanced at it, momentarily puzzled. The return address was that of the l
aboratory theyâd sent their samples to, as part of their class DNA project. All the students had taken samples from a parent or sibling and matched it with their own DNA to show the genetic makeup of their families. Bill and Tammie had participated in the study with their students as well.
At first, it had been painful for Tammie. As an only child, she could only match her DNA against her parentsâ. But theyâd been killed eighteen months ago, so sheâd used hair from a treasured brush set her mother had always kept on her dressing table. Tears welled up in her eyes again, just as they had that day, when sheâd carefully plucked the thin blond strands from the bristles and placed them in a plastic bag. It had been the same when she scraped small shavings from her fatherâs old razor. Why sheâd kept it, she didnât know.
She sighed, placing a hand over her rapidly beating heart, then laughed nervously. âIs this what youâre all riled up about? I thought you were going to tell me I was fired.â
âTammie, waitââ
âI was getting worried we wouldnât have the results of the study before the end of the semester. I would have had to completely restructure the final exam.â
Bill swallowed and shook his head. It was barely perceptible, but that small movement brought the dread sheâd felt earlier rushing back. She slapped the envelope on her cluttered desk, bringing both hands up to her face. âOh, donât tell me they messed up the test. They didnât lose someoneâs sample, did they?â
âDammit, Tammie, stop!â
Bill reached across the desk to where Tammie had dropped the envelope and grabbed it. Her opened it and pulled out a small piece of paper. He took a deep breath as he handed the paper to her.
âThese results came in a week ago. But I had to make sure they were correct before I showed them to you.â
Irritation stirred inside her. âA week? Bill, the entire class project hinges on these results. You know that. Iâve had to be very creative these last few days, thinking up ways the students could work around the results, and all this time you already had them? Why did you keep this from me?â
âJust… sit down, Tammie. You need to read your report.â
âMine? Why mine?â
Her eyes went to his, then down to the page heâd handed her.
There were no names on the page, only numbers. Sheâd done that to protect the privacy of her students when the results were examined by the class. Since sheâd personally numbered the samples for both classes, she knew which results belonged to each student, and sheâd shared that list with Bill. She scanned the graph and then read the report associated with the data for her sample. Her breath caught in her throat, and her knees buckled.
âNo! This has to be some kind of sick joke!â
Easing back against the hard cushion of her desk chair, she forced herself to breathe. In and out. In and out. It didnât help. The room was spinning.
âBill?â she said, pleading with him. âThis has to be a mistake!â
He looked down at her with sympathetic pale blue eyes. âI know this is a blowââ
âAre you kidding me?â she snapped, crumpling the paper in her hand as she fisted her palm. âA blow is when youâve got your heart set on getting a promotion and they pass you over for someone else with half your experience. A blow is when youâve planned a trip to a five-star hotel in Bali only to end up in a cockroach-infested dive with no running water. This paper is saying my whole life is a lie. That isnât a blow, Bill, itâs…itâs insanity!â
She stared at her friend, searching for some sign that he was teasing her. Sheâd forgive him if he were. But the spindly man sheâd become close to had never been good at jokes. Oh, he tried to make her laugh, but it always fell flat.
But he was a good listener. And he was her friend. That was what had drawn them together when they met in junior high, and why sheâd taken this teaching position at the college he worked at a year ago. After her parents were killed, in a Labor Day boating accident, sheâd shut herself off from the world. If she hadnât been late getting to the marina, she would have died, as well.
Sheâd spent the first few months numb. Then the next few months angry at everything and everyone because the most precious people in her life had been taken from her and sheâd been spared. Bill had methodically pulled her back into the land of the living, convincing her to come back to Winchester, and even pulling some strings to get her a job at the college. Tammie had never felt any desire to make their friendship into something romantic, although she suspected Bill had other ideas.
Theyâd talk for hours, mostly about her parents and her suspicions that their accident was anything but. Even though the local investigators were still looking into the possibility that the boatâs engine had been tampered with, Bill wouldnât allow her dwell on it, reminding her that finding the truth, either way, wouldnât bring her parents back.
Although it had taken some doing, Bill had convinced Tammie that her suspicions were merely a figment of her imagination; holding on to them was only keeping her grief alive. Then, one rainy day, sheâd closed the door on her grief.
âDonât you think I wish it were wrong, Tammie?â Bill said, his eyes filling as he dropped the folder that defended all the untruths about her life on the desk in front of her. âIt took you so long to move on after your parents died.â
She looked at him sharply. âDonât you mean to get over the idea that they were murdered?â
âYouâre a totally different woman than you were then.â
âYeah. And this report says that, doesnât it? How could you not tell me this? How could you have held on to this report for a whole week and not said a word?â
âI had to be sure.â
Her eyes rested on the torn seal of the white paper. She didnât want to look at the contents of this envelope. But as if they had a will of their own, her hands were snatching up the thick white envelope and spilling the contents all over her already cluttered desk.
âTheyâre wrong sometimes, right?â Oh, please, they have to be wrong this time. Donât take what 1 have left of them away from me.
Bill perched on the edge of her desk, pushing papers around as he always did. His gray tweed blazer gaped open, revealing a black turtleneck. She knew without a doubt that he had a pocket planner tucked in the inside pocket, and a red pen for marking papers. Heâd had a banana for breakfast with a cup of black coffee, and for lunch, the tuna sandwich he always stashed away in the right-hand drawer of his desk, along with a Snickers bar and a can of no-name cola. Like always.
Sheâd needed that kind of predictability after sheâd arrived in Winchester, Oregon. Sheâd tried to get through her grief in her little apartment in Vancouver, Washington, trying to make some sense of her parentsâ deaths. But it had been no use. Instead of drowning in questions, sheâd packed up her Volkswagen Bug and moved to the town her parents had lived in when she was a young child and gotten a job at the local college.
Everything seemed normal again until the contents of one seemingly innocent white envelope made the very foundation of her life crumble beneath her again.
Tammie closed her eyes as she gulped back tears. Then she unfolded the report and clamped her top teeth down on her trembling bottom lip. She kept at it until she felt the pain. The smell of glue from the envelope tickled her nose. With shaking hands she couldnât control, she found the report for her sample and read the words that severed the last remaining thread to a life she had once owned.
The DNA results show less than one tenth of one percent chance that sample 0017 and 0022 are biologically related…â
She read the words repeatedly, not wanting to believe them, letting her tears spill freely down her cold cheeks. Less than one tenth of one perc
ent. After checking the second sample sheâd used for her father, she choked on a sob, burying her face in her hands and allowing the papers to drift to her desk.
âThis is impossible.â she whispered.
âIâm so sorry, Tammie,â Bill said on a heavy sigh. âIâd give anything if it werenât true. I made them check the samples to make sure they werenât contaminated in any way. They werenât.â
The people who had raised her werenât her parents. But of course they were her parents. Theyâd always be. But who were they? Who was she? Theyâd never said a word. Never told her she was anything other than their flesh and blood.
âThey were all I had, and now I find out they werenât even mine.â
How could that be? How could she have lived her entire life not knowing that the man and woman who raised her as their own were not her biological parents?
âYes, they were, Tammie. In every way that counts, they were your parents.â Bill started to take her hand in his, but she pushed it away.
âI wasnât supposed to even take this test. It was all for a stupid class project. My sample was only there to round out the results. If I hadnât done this, I never would have known…â
âThis doesnât change anything.â
She glared at Bill. âMaybe not for you. Your life is exactly the same as it was when you woke up this morning, when you walked into my office ten minutes ago. I have no idea who I really am or where I came from. My whole life has been a lie.â
She snatched the last tissue out of the box on her desk and blew her nose. âHow did this happen? How could my parents have kept something so vitally important from me my whole life? Why didnât they tell me?â
âMaybe they didnât know, Tammie.â
âWhat? You mean like being switched at birth?â
âIt happens. Hospitals get busy, and some baby gets put in the wrong bassinet or the wristbands get switched. It happens.â
Tammie stared off into the far comer of her office. It always amazed her how life could turn upside down in a matter of seconds.
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