Lawson and Jill
A Night Storm Legacy Novel, Book One
Caitlyn O’Leary
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Caitlyn O’Leary
© Copyright 2020 Caitlyn O’Leary
All rights reserved.
All cover art and logo © Copyright 2020
By Passionately Kind Publishing Inc.
Cover by Lori Jackson Design
Edited by Rebecca Hodgkins
Content Edited by Trenda Lundin
Technical Advice by Larry Conway
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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2020 has been a year of change and loss. I want to dedicate this book to three souls who died before their time.
My mother-in-law, a gracious and kind lady, with a smile that could light up a room and a heart as big as Texas. She welcomed me as a true daughter and was the best mother any son could hope for; Mary Pat Peters.
Paul Dunkley, a family man who was my husband’s best friend at the high school he attended. His sense of humor, fun and loyalty was like no other.
To Garrett Lai, one of the greatest men it has been my privilege to know. He gave my husband a leg up and mentored him early in his career, and it was invaluable. He became a great friend to our family. His intelligence and wisdom knew no bounds.
All three of these people have left holes in John and my hearts this year. May they be smiling down on us and entertaining the angels with their unique personalities.
Introduction
Can Love Heal Heartbreak?
Sick and tired of being sick and tired, Lawson Thorne knows he needs help, but it’s difficult for a Marine Raider to admit. But seeing someone you love, someone so strong, break? Makes a man think hard about walking a different path.
Jill Keiler knows heartache, up close and personal. She has closed in on herself, and she doesn’t know how to open up anymore. When she sees Law, she immediately knows he’s a kindred spirit.
Can two people who have been through the fire find solace in one another’s arms? Perhaps even find laughter again? But if they are lucky enough to find the other half of their soul, will one madman slaughter their dreams?
Chapter 1
Lawson Thorne hit the key fob on his large white pick-up truck and locked it. It was new, so he’d parked it well away from the rest of the cars in the parking lot. It’d been easy since it was a late afternoon on Thursday and only people like him were here at the rec center.
He didn’t want to be here, or maybe he did.
Fuck, I don’t know, and doesn’t that just prove I have a problem?
Sighing, he trudged up the long set of steps that led to the entrance of what was once a high school in the nineteen-forties. The place had seen better days.
The mustard-green linoleum seemed to go on forever as he wandered the halls looking for his assigned room. As he turned what he hoped would be the final corner, he damn near stepped on a little kid who was looking over his shoulder as he was clearly trying to make his escape. God knew from where.
“You’re going to be captured by the enemy if you don’t look where you’re going,” Law said as he let the kid run into him.
The boy looked at Law’s belly. Then his eyes made the long crawl upwards until he met Lawson’s eyes. “How tall are you?” the kid asked.
“Over six feet. How old are you?”
“Seven and three quarters. My birthday is in November.”
For the first time in days, Law felt the corner of his mouth tic up in a smile. He remembered when it was important to sound older. Wiser. More important.
“So where are you running to?”
The boy let out a long-suffering sigh. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. I just don’t want to go back to the arts class. It’s lame.”
Lawson steered the kid over to a wide set of stairs and sat down next to him on the lowest step. “Is it really that bad?”
“It wasn’t bad until everyone ruined it. First, we were going to make beehives out of bubble wrap. We had to shape it like a hive and paint it. It was going to be cool until Damien popped all the bubbles.”
“So that’s why you want to leave?”
A frown formed on his angular little face. “Nah. If it was just that, I woulda stayed. But Marty started eating the broccoli on the other artwork and ruined that one, too.”
“Little man, I understood about the bubble wrap, but how was broccoli art?”
“We was making trees and gluing ‘em inside of shoeboxes to make a forest. Marty likes broccoli and glue, so he ate a lot. I was hoping he’d get sick and stop, but he didn’t. So, Angela just poured glitter all inside the box and said it was snow. Snow’s not supposed to be pink, so I got outta there.”
“Makes sense to me,” Law nodded.
“Why are you hanging out here with me?” the kid asked as he gave him a sideways glance. “Did someone mess up your project?”
This time Law sighed. “Good question. Seems like I’m looking for an excuse to avoid going to my meeting.”
“Are they making you do art?”
“Worse.” Law leaned his forearms on his knees.
“What?”
“They want me to talk…about feelings.”
The boy looked at him. “Oh. That’s bad. My mom asks about mine… a lot.” He gave that long-suffering sigh again. The kid had game. Then he brightened and grinned at Lawson. “But sometimes I feel better after talking, ‘specially when I’m sad or mad.”
Law looked up at the bronzed pendant lights hanging above them.
Seriously, I’m being schooled by a seven-year-old?
“Who are you going to talk to?”
“Strangers,” Law answered.
“Hmmm, I don’t know, mister. Maybe you should talk to my mom.”
Lawson barked out a laugh. God, that felt good.
When was the last time I laughed?
“What’s your name?”
“Kenny. What’s yours?”
“Lawson.” He held out his hand. The boy put his small hand in Law’s, and Law gently shook it. “Well, Kenny, I appreciate your offer.”
As he was smiling down at the boy’s gap-toothed grin, he saw somet
hing awe-inspiring in his peripheral vision.
Holy hell.
“What?” Kenny asked, his head swiveling.
Had he said that aloud? Nope, he hadn’t. But he’d definitely moved his head and now the kid was looking at the same attractive woman’s butt that he was.
Not good.
“What were you saying, Kenny?” he asked to distract the kid, while still trying to take in the sway of the woman’s backside in her yoga pants.
Holy hell. Where is she going? Even if it’s macramé 101, I’m in.
“I can tell you’re not listening. Do you know how?” Kenny asked.
Law grinned as she turned a corner. “How?”
“You ask questions and then don’t listen to my answers. My mom does that when she wants to do something else. You can tell me if I’m bothering you.”
“You’re not bothering me,” Law assured him. “You’re teaching me. You’re right, if something is upsetting me, I need to talk about it. Annnnnndddd….even if I don’t really want to do something like art class, I should probably give it a try.”
Kenny looked up at him sideways, “I taught you that?”
“There you are,” a young man’s voice called out.
Kenny and Law looked up and saw a harassed-looking skinny guy jogging down the hall. “I’ve been looking for you, Kenny. You’ve been gone for over fifteen minutes. You need to get back to class.” He gave Law a suspicious look. “Who are you?”
“I was looking for Room 1013.”
“Oh, you’re looking for the Grief Group. Yeah, they start up the same time we do, so you’re late. Follow me, they’re a few doors down from us.”
“Do I have to work with Damien anymore?” Kenny whined.
“How about you work on a project with me? I’ve been wanting to make a dinosaur out of crêpe paper.”
“What color?” Kenny asked as he started to follow his teacher.
“Gray.”
“No glitter, right?”
The teacher looked over at Law and grinned.
“I swear, there will be no glitter.”
“Good. I hate glitter.”
As they stopped outside a room, the man nodded at Law. “Thanks for finding my wayward student. Your room is on the left up ahead. They’re good people. Hope it helps. If not, you can come play with glitter.” He smiled and ushered Kenny inside.
Law wondered if the woman he’d noticed liked playing with glitter. Anything was better than thinking about the upcoming disembowelment.
Cut it out, Thorne, you agreed to this, God knows nothing else is working.
Jill looked up from her normal seat next to the window and saw the hot guy who’d been talking to one of the little boys from the art class. He had a presence about him, and everybody turned to look at him as he stepped inside the room.
Is he lost?
“Are you here for the Grief Support Group?” Lesley, the group coordinator, asked kindly.
He gave a stoic nod, but not before Jill saw an almost imperceptible wince. Damn. He belonged here—some way or somehow, he’d been through something. But Jill would bet herself a Coke that he wouldn’t last more than one session.
She stared at him from under her bangs, hiding her gaze. He was wearing a black t-shirt that wasn’t too tight but showed off muscled forearms and wide shoulders. His brown hair was cut short, accenting his sharp jaw. Add in the sturdy work boots and the way he dominated the room, she guessed that he was a first responder or military.
“Why don’t you take a seat next to the window?” Lesley suggested. “If you don’t feel like talking right away, don’t worry, that’s normal. We’ll get to introductions after our session. Right now, we’re listening to Beth tell us some good news.”
The hot guy took a seat next to Jill and gave her a brief smile. It might have been fast, but it was potent. Then his focus switched to Beth.
Jill liked Beth. She was glad that something good was happening for her finally. It had been a year since her fiancé had died.
Jill frowned when she felt the vibration coming from inside her purse where it rested against her calf. If it was the office coordinator again, she was going to come unglued. If it was her boss, she was going to throttle her. Seriously, everything was handled and they both knew it.
She mentally ran through her work checklist and was almost at the end when people started clapping. She looked around and saw Beth smiling brightly. Darn-it, once again she’d spaced on what was going on in the session, same as the last four times she’d come.
“Caught you,” the man next to her whispered.
Jill turned her head and locked eyes with a knowing blue gaze. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she didn’t know if it was because he obviously knew that she’d zoned out, or because she was the focus of such intensity.
Can I bluff my way out of this?
“You tuned out when your phone vibrated.” His voice wafted over her like smoke. He didn’t quite smile, but a dimple showed to the left of his mouth. Jill shivered and thought But it’s eighty degrees in here!
“I want to share,” Ned Rangle spoke up.
“What can I expect?” Hot Guy asked. His lips barely moved.
Jill turned so she could brush something off the windowsill while whispering a reply so quietly nobody but the man next to her could hear. “Buckle up,” she warned softly.
Ned was a sweet older gentleman, whose ninety-year-old mom had passed just over two years ago. He was very open about the fact that his friends and family would no longer listen to him talk about ‘Precious Mama’, so that’s why he came here. Every time he came to a group session, Lesley would let him have the floor for ten minutes to tell everyone about PM’s final meal, the clothes she’d picked out to be buried in, the color of the flowers on top of her coffin, and the exact words that he’d said at her memorial service. Everyone had tried to coax him to remember things about her life and take joy in that, but he was unable to move on. Jill knew that Lesley had suggested professional help to Ned, but that had gone in one ear and out the other. So, here they were, once again left with Ned’s ten-minute soliloquy known as Precious Mama’s Final Rest.
Halfway through, Jill felt her purse vibrate again. If she’d had a life other than work, this might’ve been someone else, someone she actually wanted to talk to. Heck, maybe it’s a telemarketer she thought hopefully. Maybe they were trying to sell her a vacation timeshare in Tahiti—that sounded nice. She’d had a layover in Hawaii once on her way to Australia for business, but did that really count as a vacation?
She came out of her trance when she heard Lesley pipe up. “Now would be a good time for you to introduce yourself. You can share as much or as little as you want to,” she addressed the hottie sitting beside Jill.
God, how long did I zone out this time?
She looked at him and he smirked back. Darn, nothing she seemed to do got past him.
“My name is Lawson Thorne, and I’m in the United States Marine Corps.”
There was an awkward pause as Lesley clearly expected him to say more. Jill jumped in.
“I’m Jill Keiler. I’m a transplant from Florida by way of Texas, and don’t believe everything they tell you about my birth state.”
He gave her his first real smile. Oh God, he has two dimples. “So, how much should I believe?”
“Two-thirds is a good amount.”
Everyone in the room laughed.
“And on that note, I think it’s a good time to say good evening. I’ll see you all back here next week,” Lesley said as she bent down to grab her notepad and purse. Jill watched as Lesley went to talk to Ned. She was a good woman, probably trying to suggest he get more professional help. She was going to be there for a while.
As Jill stood up, so did Lawson.
“I have a friend named Cullen Lyons. If I have to believe two-thirds of everything he has to say about Florida, then it’s probably a good thing you got out of there.”
“I might have
lied,” she smiled up at him. “It might be three-quarters. But I need to stick up for where I was born—it’s been the butt of enough punchlines.”
“So, are you going to check your messages?” he asked as she bent to pick up her purse.
Jill bit her lip, debating how to answer.
“If it’s work, it’s just going to make me grumpy. However, if it’s an offer for a Tahiti timeshare, I might be tempted to sign up, and that would be bad.”
She sighed at the sight of his dimples reappearing.
“Yeah, that would be bad. A friend of mine signed up for one of those, God knows why since he was in the Navy and they promised him he would see the world.”
“Did he?”
Lawson grimaced. “Oh, yeah.”
“Tahiti?” Jill teased.
“Well, maybe not Tahiti,” Lawson acquiesced. “But he only ever used the timeshare once. He ended up paying for it while just his family used it.”
Jill sighed again. That wouldn’t happen in her case. Lawson picked up on her mood change. Who would’ve guessed a Marine would be so perceptive that way?
“Tonight was kind of a bust, but I’m thinking that some coffee and something sweet might be a good way to end the evening. You game?” he asked.
Jill thought about her yoga class. That was how she usually ended her Thursday evenings, and immediately decided to give it a pass.
“That sounds good.”
Lawson gave a slow smile. “I know just the place.”
Lawson & Jill: Romantic Suspense (Night Storm Legacy Book 1) Page 1