Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | Risky Christmas: Holiday Secrets / Kidnapped at Christmas

Risky Christmas: Holiday Secrets / Kidnapped at Christmas
Jill Sorenson

Jennifer Morey


Two Christmas stories brimming with passion and danger…Holiday Secrets by Jill SorensonAfter witnessing her husband's murder eighteen months ago, Leah is in hiding and has no plans to celebrate Christmas. Though she tries to resist, her handsome new neighbor awakens long-buried feelings of attraction…and brings a killer to her door.Kidnapped at Christmas by Jennifer Morey Chloe is a struggling artist and thoroughly bored with her life—until a rugged FBI agent pulls her into a fast-paced adventure…and a sizzling love affair! The only damper on their mistletoe madness is a vengeful mobster who won't stop until they are both silenced…forever.







Praise for JILL SORENSON

“With Jill Sorenson, you are guaranteed a dangerously addictive, gut-wrenchingly tight paced read.”

—New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Tyler

“Sorenson’s sleek sensuality and fresh new voice are sure to score big with readers.”

—New York Times bestselling author Cindy Gerard

“This heartwarming adventure story has an unusual setting and perfect details, making it one of the best books of the year.” —RT BOOKReviews on Stranded with Her Ex (4.5 stars Top Pick)

“Buy this book. I LOVED it.” –New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks on Tempted by Her Target

Praise for JENNIFER MOREY

“Great characterization and a thrilling plot make this a must-read book.”

—RT BOOKReviews on Special Ops Affair

“The story starts with strong emotion and the action is fast throughout…. This is a heartwarming book.”

—RT BOOKReviews on Librarian’s Secret Scandal

“Morey is an experienced writer who easily picks up the threads of the Colton family with imaginative and fairly true to life characters.”

—TheRomanceReader.com on Librarian’s Secret Scandal




JILL SORENSON writes sexy romantic suspense. Her books have appeared in Cosmopolitan magazine.

After earning a degree in literature and a bilingual teaching credential from California State University, she decided teaching wasn’t her cup of tea. She started writing one day while her firstborn was taking a nap and hasn’t stopped since. She lives in San Diego with her husband and two young daughters.



JENNIFER MOREY Two-time 2009 RITA® Award nominee and a Golden Quill winner for Best First Book for The Secret Soldier, Jennifer Morey writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Project manager du jour, she works for the space systems segment of a satellite imagery and information company and lives in sunny Denver, Colorado. She can be reached through her website, www.jennifermorey.com, and on Facebook.


Risky Christmas



Holiday Secrets

Jill Sorenson

Kidnapped at Christmas

Jennifer Morey








www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Holiday Secrets

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine



Kidnapped at Christmas

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight




Holiday Secrets


Jill Sorenson


For my daughters




Chapter 1


Brian adjusted the red stocking cap, trying to cover his dark brown hair.

He’d bought the costume on a whim a few years ago with the intention to play Santa for his sister’s children. Due to unfortunate circumstances, it had never been used. The cheap red suit came with an itchy white beard, but no wig. His own black rubber boots, which he used to wade through concrete, completed the look.

Leaving the hat askew, he stepped back and studied his reflection. He needed a haircut. His costume was “one size fits all” and poorly made. The fuzzy white cuffs of the jacket didn’t reach his wrists, the pants were too baggy, and the black plastic belt gaped at his waist. He looked like Homeless Santa.

He grabbed a pillow from the mattress on the floor and stuffed it under his jacket, fashioning a jolly paunch. There, that was better. As he headed outside, he picked up the bag of gifts and put the Dear Santa letter in his front pocket.

At 9:00 a.m., the sun was already blazing. It was going to be a hot Christmas in Oceanside, California. There wasn’t a cloud in the perfect blue sky. Brian had spent most of the morning on his surfboard, and the waves were in fine form. He might go back later for an afternoon session.

His pulse kicked up a notch as he approached the house next door. He hardly knew his neighbors and wasn’t sure what they would think of his getup. The single mom who lived there had never even spoken to him, and her daughters were quiet as mice.

If the girls hadn’t left a letter in Brian’s mailbox last week, he wouldn’t have considered buying them gifts. When he found the envelope, addressed to the North Pole, he’d opened it to investigate. At first he’d assumed that the girls had mistaken his mailbox for their own, because the two were side by side. Then he read the letter and realized that they hadn’t wanted their mother to see it.

The girls had penned the note to Santa in simple words and neat sentences. Judging by her careful signature, Mandy was the older daughter. Her sister, Alyssa, had scrawled her name at the bottom of the page in pink crayon. They asked for a couple of moderately priced toys that “Mommy can’t buy this year.”

Brian could easily afford the extra gifts; he had very few family members to shop for. But the last item on the list was something that no one could deliver—not even Santa. He’d been touched by the request and felt a powerful compulsion to make his neighbors’ holiday a little brighter.

They could all use some cheering up.

Whistling the tune to “Jingle Bells,” he knocked on the front door. “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” he called out, preparing to leave the wrapped presents on the stoop. Before he had a chance, the door swung open.

Mandy and Alyssa stood there in red dresses, their dark hair shining. Twin expressions of wonder lit up their well-scrubbed faces.

“Santa,” the younger girl breathed, fooled by his outfit.

Brian winked at her. “Have you girls been good this year?”

The both nodded dutifully, eyes wide.

He reached into his bag, finding a present for Alyssa. She jumped up and down, delighted to receive it. Mandy, who was at least five, probably knew he wasn’t the “real” Santa. But she accepted the second gift with a shy smile, examining his ill-fitting suit. If she found it lacking, she didn’t say.

“We have cookies for you! My mommy made them.”

Brian glanced around, wondering where she was. “Okay.”

Mandy raced into another room, coming back with a loaded plate.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing a bell-shaped cookie off the top. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and these confections looked almost too pretty to eat, with silver accents and delicate icing. But they tasted like a dream, light and almondy. “Mmm.”

He was about to wish them a Merry Christmas and take his leave, along with a handful of those delicious cookies, when the girls’ mother appeared. The moment she stepped on the scene, the cookie lodged in his throat.

She was wearing a short towel, secured over her breasts. Her skin was wet, her dark hair dripping on her bare shoulders.

Brian did a double take, startled by her near-nudity. He couldn’t help noticing that she had a great figure. He’d never registered that before, but he’d never seen quite so much of her. She always wore shapeless clothes and big sunglasses.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, staring at him. She had frantic blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose.

Brian tried to chew the bite of cookie, which had turned to sawdust in his mouth.

“You opened the door to a stranger?” she asked the girls.

Mandy set aside the cookies, appearing stricken.

“Go to your room,” she said, clutching the towel in a white-knuckled grip. “Both of you!”

“Can we keep the presents?” Alyssa asked.

“No!”

They ran away, little faces crumpled in dismay.

Brian managed to swallow. “I’m sorry. I had no idea this would be a problem—”

“Get out,” she said, pointing her finger. Although her stance was strong and self-assured, her lips trembled, betraying her fear.

He retreated in surprise, unaware that he’d stepped over the threshold. “I’m sorry,” he said again, tugging the fake beard down his chin. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Brian Cosgrove, from next door.”

Her gaze darted from him to the half-opened presents on the floor. “Have you visited my children before?”

Brian was so astounded by her question that he almost didn’t catch its meaning. Was she implying that he wanted to harm her daughters? His stomach curled in revulsion. “No,” he said, shaken by the charge. “Hell, no.”

“Then how could you know what they wanted for Christmas?”

He reached into his front pocket, bringing out the Dear Santa letter. “They left this in my mailbox.”

She took the note from him and scanned it, her mouth thin.

It was on the tip of his tongue to explain that he thought he was doing her a kindness. His only impression of her before now was that of an overworked parent. He’d watched her leave the house early in the morning and trudge home late. Her girls had sad eyes. Intuition, and the Dear Santa letter, told him they were struggling.

He’d also studied his own reflection in the mirror often enough to know what a wounded soul looked like.

But the empty place inside him gaped wider than ever at her harsh treatment. Instead of trying to reach out to her, he distanced himself further. “I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. It won’t happen again.”

She kept her attention on the letter, silent.

He turned and walked away, crushing the delicate cookie in his closed fist.



Leah read the message three times, her heart aching.

Dear Santa,

Mommy can’t by a lot of presints this year. She said not to ask you for new toys. But Alyssa wants a doctor Elmo and I want a Hello Kitty camera. We also want Daddy back from heaven.

Love,

Mandy and Alyssa

She folded the paper in half, her vision blurring with tears. Her neighbor’s visit had shaken her to the core.

When she’d heard the deep rumble of a man’s voice, she’d panicked. She turned off the shower and leapt out of the stall in a surge of adrenaline. Wrapping a towel around her body, she burst from the bathroom and rushed down the hall.

Seeing a strange man inside her house had brought back terrible memories. Eighteen months ago, she’d walked in on her husband’s murderer. She’d dropped her groceries and run out of the house, calling 911 on her cell phone.

The criminal was still at large—and Leah prayed he’d never find her.

Her neighbor looked nothing like the cold villain who’d shot John in the head. He was taller, leaner, not quite as dark. As soon as he introduced himself, she recognized him as the surfer next door. She saw the man coming back from the beach almost every morning. He was always barefoot, surfboard under one arm, wet suit pulled down to the waist. Something about him made her uncomfortable.

Unsettled by the surprise encounter, she peeked through the horizontal blinds, studying her neighbor’s driveway. He’d moved in about a month ago. His beat-up white truck said Cosgrove Construction on the passenger side. His house was small and rundown; she was surprised it hadn’t been razed.

He was just another down-on-his-luck handyman.

She let the blinds snap shut, aware that she’d overreacted and embarrassed him. She’d also yelled at the girls in front of him, which made her feel lousy. Mandy, in particular, was sensitive to loud voices. Alyssa was too young to remember the fights.

After she secured the lock on the front door, Leah went to her bedroom and pulled on her bathrobe. In her manic state, she hadn’t even thought about donning it. She must have looked like a crazy woman.

She’d also forgotten to set the security alarm before she hopped in the shower. An unforgivable oversight.

Shaking her head, she padded to the girls’ room. Mandy had slammed the door shut, which wasn’t allowed but she let it pass, turning the knob and slipping inside. The space was cramped, filled with two single beds. Alyssa was playing with an ABC puzzle on the floor. Mandy lay on her bed, arms crossed over her chest.

She was mad. Well, so was Leah.

Knotting the belt at her waist, she sat down on Alyssa’s bed, addressing both daughters. “What have I told you about opening the door to strangers?”

“Not to do it,” Alyssa answered promptly.

“So why did you?”

Mandy stared up at the ceiling, petulant.

“It wasn’t a stranger,” Alyssa pointed out. “It was Santa.”

“It wasn’t Santa, dummy,” Mandy said.

“Hey,” Leah scolded. “Be nice.”

“Who was it?” Alyssa asked.

“A man pretending to be Santa,” Leah said.

“Was he a bad man?”

“Probably not, but you girls need to be more careful. I don’t want anyone to hurt you or take you away from me.”

Hearing the quiver in Leah’s voice, Alyssa looked up from her puzzle. She scrambled to her feet and gave Leah a hug. “Okay, Mommy. I love you.”

Leah pressed her lips to the top of Alyssa’s head. “I love you, too, sweetie.”

Mandy let out an exaggerated sigh. She pretended not to like displays of affection. When Alyssa let go, Leah leaned over Mandy, kissing her nose before she could squirm away. “I’m counting on you to watch over your sister.”

Mandy’s expression softened. She was already protective of Alyssa, and enjoyed being responsible. “He wasn’t bad, Mom.”

“How do you know? Because he had presents?”

“He liked your cookies.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said, her cheeks heating. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d also seen a hint of masculine appreciation in his gaze. Brian Cosgrove liked full-grown women. And he knew a good cookie when he tasted one. She felt guilty for throwing him out of her house.

Taking a deep breath, she removed the Dear Santa letter from her front pocket. “Why did you put this in his mailbox?”

“I didn’t want you to see it before the mailman came.”

She looked from one daughter to the other, pressure building behind her eyes. “You know that your daddy isn’t coming back, right?”

Alyssa’s face fell. She nodded once and returned to her floor puzzle. Mandy focused on the ceiling, her chin quivering. This was a subject they’d all rather avoid. John hadn’t been a perfect husband or an ideal father, but they missed him.

On days like this, the loss was almost unbearable.

Leah couldn’t scold them for writing the letter, or for wanting their father back. She felt powerless over the situation. If only John had been able to control his gambling addiction. If only Leah had discovered his secret earlier.

Pushing aside her regrets, she rose from the bed and went back to her room to get ready. She had to apologize to Brian. Her stomach tightened at the prospect and she nibbled on the edge of her fingernail, wondering what to wear. She’d planned to spend the day toiling in the kitchen. The choices were limited because she owned few nice outfits. After rifling through her clothes, she put on her best jeans and a dark green tank top.

Vanity had her reaching for the makeup kit in the back of her underwear drawer. She applied a touch of mascara and a hint of lip gloss, her hands trembling. After shoving her feet into black flats and running a brush through her damp, shoulder-length hair, she walked down the hall to retrieve the presents.

Brian had bought her daughters exactly what they’d asked for. The toys were from two different stores, and had probably cost him a day’s hard labor. She took the half-wrapped gifts to the girls’ bedroom, watching their eyes brighten with hope. “I’m going next door to say sorry. You both stay right here.”

“Can we play with our new toys?”

“I suppose,” she said, setting them down. If Brian didn’t accept her apology, she’d offer to pay him back for the gifts.

“Thanks, Mommy!”

“We’ll have to write a thank-you note.”

They both agreed, tearing into their presents. Leah never left them unsupervised but she’d only be gone a minute. Tugging on the hem of her shirt, she walked outside, squinting at the strong California sunshine.

In Kansas City, they’d have had a white Christmas.

Her pulse fluttered as she approached his screen door. The thin barrier was torn in several places, and had a flimsy-looking frame. If she wanted to, she could slip her hand inside and reach the latch. She felt a twinge of resentment over his lackadaisical security. Single women couldn’t afford to be so careless.

As she raised her hand to knock, she saw Brian standing in the kitchen. He’d ditched the fur-trimmed coat and not bothered to put on a shirt. His skin was smooth and tanned, his torso etched with muscle.

While she watched, her mouth going dry, he lifted a plastic water bottle to his lips and took a long drink. Her eyes traveled from his strong brown throat, which worked as he swallowed, to the fine sheen of perspiration on his chest. The red Santa pants he was wearing rode dangerously low on his waist, held up by a thin white drawstring, and his stomach looked as flat and tight as a drum. This was no bowl full of jelly.

She might have made a noise, because he caught sight of her and startled, the bottle slipping from his hand. It bounced off the tile floor, spilling everywhere.

“Damn!”

“I’m sorry,” Leah said, clapping a hand over her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t stare at his naked chest, she could remember what she’d walked over here for.

He scrambled around for a minute, sopping up the water with paper towels. As he came toward the door, still shirtless, she tried to keep her gaze above his neck. It was a difficult task because he was a head taller than her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, making no move to step inside when he opened the door. From what she could see, there was no furniture. A table saw with a long, orange extension cord dominated the living room. “I just wanted to apologize for being so rude. My girls aren’t supposed to open the door to strangers.”

He leaned against the screen, holding it ajar. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, you’re not a mother.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “True.”

She moistened her lips, flustered. “It was really nice of you to bring the gifts.” Before he had a chance to reply, she rushed ahead. “Look, it’s Christmas, and we have plenty of food. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

His brows rose in surprise.

“I mean, I’m sure you have other plans.” She glanced into the empty space behind him. “But if not, we’d be happy to have you.”

He hesitated. “Actually, I don’t have other plans.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. “Well, great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Everything should be ready at noon.”

“You eat dinner at noon?”

Leah remembered that Californians didn’t use the same terms as Midwesterners. “Lunch, I should say.”

He gave her a curious look. “What’s your name?”

“Leah,” she said, careful not to add the n. Back in Kansas, she’d been Leanne. Now she was just Leah. Her identity, her family, her entire world—slashed.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand.

She shook it quickly, noting that his palm felt warm and hard and as tough as leather. “See you at noon?”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Smile faltering, she backed away, almost tripping over an uneven place in the sidewalk. He really needed to get that fixed.




Chapter 2


Leah made a traditional Christmas meal.

There was spiral ham, scalloped potatoes and fresh green beans. She’d steamed corn on the cob and made rolls from scratch. If anyone had room for dessert, she’d offer a warm cherry torte with vanilla ice cream.

Brian arrived on time, but Leah wasn’t quite ready. Mandy and Alyssa had been in high spirits all morning, running wild through the house. They tended to get overexcited on holidays, especially when Leah was too busy to discipline them. After she got fed up, threatening to take their presents away, they sat down to write Brian a thank-you note.

At the sound of the doorbell, she wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer it, glancing through the peephole. Her neighbor had cleaned up a little. His hair was combed back, his face freshly shaved. He’d also brought another gift—a large poinsettia.

Smoothing her apron, she opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She waved him in, studying his appearance from beneath lowered lashes. He was older than she’d first estimated, at least thirty. Years of surfing or working outdoors had given him a rugged, weathered look. His T-shirt and jeans were far from new, but his boots were spotless and he smelled good. Like soap and sawdust.

She locked the door behind him, gesturing at the poinsettia. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It was no trouble.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, accepting the gift. Their fingertips brushed as he transferred the plant to her. Heart jittering, she stuck the poinsettia on the coffee table, admiring its festive red leaves.

He nodded hello to the girls, who regarded him with curiosity. “I’m Brian,” he said. “You might remember me as Santa.”

“This is Mandy,” Leah said, touching her older daughter’s head, “and that’s Alyssa.”

“Pleased to meet you both.”

The girls shed their shyness like a winter coat. “I drew you a picture!” Alyssa said, hopping to her feet. She showed him a drawing of a stick figure in a red hat and coat, standing next to a colorful green triangle. Not to be outdone, Mandy brandished her own artwork, a thank-you note decorated with bows and boxes. “I made you a card.”

Brian weighed the merits of each offering, giving them equal attention. “I like the Christmas tree,” he said to Alyssa, who beamed at the praise. Smiling, he turned to Mandy. “And you write very well for a first-grader.”

“I’m in kindergarten,” she said.

“Really? You must be the smartest girl in class.”

She glanced sideways at Leah, her face solemn. Mandy wasn’t as good a reader as Brittany, one of the other students. But she tried very hard at school and Leah couldn’t have been more proud of her. “I’m not.”

He chuckled at her honesty. “What about you?” he asked Alyssa.

“I’m the best drawer,” she said, ever-humble.

“I can see that.”

“Why don’t you girls set the table?” Leah suggested.

While Mandy transferred the good plates from the hutch, Alyssa dispersed the silverware, and Leah walked to the kitchen to take the rolls out of the oven. It was a warm day, even by California standards, and she was sweating. Shifting the rolls into a basket, she pushed a lock of hair off her forehead.

“Can I do anything to help?” Brian asked.

“Yes,” she said, taking the basket to the table. “We need drinks.” She’d already set out cups of water for the girls. “Do you like iced tea?”

“Sure.”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge, and glasses in the cabinet.”

He found the iced tea and poured them each a tall glass, following her as she moved the serving dishes to the table. Alyssa had given herself two spoons, so Leah switched one with Mandy, nodding her approval. “Let’s eat.”

She’d planned to sit at the head of the table, but Brian took that chair. Although it felt odd to see another man in John’s place, asking him to move would be impolite. Leah glanced at the pronged fork near his right hand, aware that it could be used as a weapon.

He seemed to notice her discomfort. “Is this okay?”

“Of course,” she said, as if nothing was amiss. Instead of sitting down, she stood beside Brian and picked up the sharp fork, spearing a juicy section of ham. She served him first, because he was a guest. Then she dispersed slices of ham to the girls and herself. Bringing the fork to the opposite end of the table with her, she sat down.

The side dishes were passed around next, and with slightly less trepidation. Alyssa expressed her hatred for all vegetables and Mandy dropped a dinner roll, but that was par for the course. Leah put her napkin in her lap and reminded the girls to do the same, noting that Brian mimicked them. He also waited for Leah’s cue to start eating.

She felt self-conscious about not trusting him with the pronged fork. Instead of making stilted conversation, she tucked into her plate, pleased when Brian did the same. Unlike her daughters, who were picky eaters, he appeared to appreciate a home-cooked meal. Leah had forgotten how satisfying it felt to watch someone enjoy her food.

When the girls were finished, they started fidgeting and kicking their legs under the table. “Can we have ice cream?”

“In a few minutes,” she said, noting that they’d both eaten a fair amount. She rarely insisted that they clean their plates. “Wash up and go play.”

They took their dishes to the sink and ran off, eager to get back to their Christmas fun. Leah hadn’t been able to afford many gifts this year, but the Witness Protection Program had come through with some toys and art supplies. Along with the inexpensive items she’d purchased, and Santa’s surprise gifts, they had plenty to occupy them.

Brian ate every morsel on his plate, his fork scraping the flat surface.

“Would you like another helping?” Leah asked, amused.

He deliberated, obviously wanting more. She didn’t know where he’d put it on that lean frame.

“Go ahead,” she said with a smile, taking her own plate to the sink. “There’s plenty.” While she rinsed some dishes and tidied up the kitchen, he polished off a second serving of everything. “How is it?”

“Delicious. I think this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

Her cheeks heated at the compliment, which sounded sincere. She left the ice cream to thaw on the countertop and brought the cherry torte to the table, wondering how long it had been since he’d had a decent meal.

“I’ve been living on convenience store burritos.”

“That explains it,” she said, taking her seat.

He wiped his mouth with the napkin, shaking his head. “No, this is something special. Are you a chef?”

Before the girls came along, she’d gone to culinary school. “I decorate ice cream cakes in a warehouse,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but I’ve always loved to cook.” Her current job was a waste of her creative talents. Maybe in a few years she’d be placed somewhere more fitting. “What kind of construction work do you do?”

“Any kind. I specialize in custom carpentry, but I have a general contractor’s license, so I can take whatever’s available.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression sardonic. “Sometimes I dig ditches.”

Leah admired his good-natured attitude. Here she was, feeling sorry for herself because cake-decorating wasn’t a challenge. At least she didn’t have to dig trenches and lay bricks or whatever else he did. This poor guy had no furniture, no appliances. But he’d been kind enough to buy Christmas gifts for his neighbors.

“I know those presents were expensive,” she said. “Would you be offended if I offered to pay you back?”

His eyes darkened. “Yes.”

She drank another sip of tea, feeling awkward. Although he seemed nice, she didn’t know anything about him. She wanted to ask why he’d decided to play Santa, why he was alone on Christmas, and if he had a family of his own.

“I have two nieces,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Twins.”

Leah warmed to the subject. “Twins? How old are they?”

“Almost four. I bought the Santa suit two years ago, with them in mind.”

“How did they like it?”

A creased formed between his brows. “They never saw it. My sister…their mother…died in a car accident that year.”

She lifted a hand to her lips. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

He inclined his head. “Her husband was from the East Coast, so he moved back there with my nieces a few months later.”

“Have you seen them since?”

“No. He’s remarried and…they don’t remember me. I don’t think they remember her.”

“Oh, my God,” she repeated, stunned. “That’s awful.”

He didn’t disagree.

She struggled to think of something comforting to say. “Alyssa was a baby when her father died, so it’s been easier for her. Mandy took it hard. I try not to dwell on the loss, but I can’t imagine pretending he didn’t exist.”

“You still talk about him?”

“Maybe not as much as I should,” she admitted, seeing her neighbor in a different light. When he’d read Mandy and Alyssa’s letter, he must have been reminded of his nieces. It was a tragic situation. “I’m so sorry I threw you out earlier. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, relaxing a little. “I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about…what kind of person I am.” His gaze fell to the pronged fork on the table, out of his reach.

“I’m overprotective,” she said, chagrined. “I don’t mean any insult.”

He gave her a curious look, as if contemplating the reason for her caution.

The girls burst back on the scene, begging for dessert, so Leah rose to get the ice cream. Grabbing a few small plates, she scooped smooth vanilla bean alongside the warm cherry torte. “Do you want some?” she asked Brian, serving her daughters first this time.

“Is it as good as the cookies?”

“Better,” she said.

His brows rose in agreement as he took a first bite. “Wow.”

Leah lifted a spoon to her mouth, enjoying the sweet, tart cherries and creamy vanilla ice cream. By the time dessert was over, they were all stuffed. Mandy and Alyssa had both been up since the crack of dawn and looked tired. Leah put on a Disney movie for them and returned to the kitchen, surprised to see Brian at the sink.

“I thought I’d help you load the dishwasher.”

“It doesn’t work,” she said, surprised. “I’ve never used it.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead.”

He glanced into the cabinet under the sink, checking the wiring. “It’s not hooked up right.”

“Really?”

“I can fix it if you want.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, drumming her fingertips against her elbows. “How long will it take?”

“Half an hour.”

“What do you charge?”

He shrugged. “A plate of leftovers.”

“I was going to offer you that anyway.”

“Then it’s a deal. I’ll get my tools.”

Brian came back five minutes later with a scarred metal toolbox. Setting it on the floor, he opened the sink cabinet and hunkered down. “You have an old towel?”

She had nothing but old towels. Grabbing a couple of different sizes from the bathroom, she brought them to him. He placed one of the large ones over the lip of the cabinet, making a more comfortable spot to lean against. Then he stretched out on his back and got to work, unscrewing bolts and taking the plumbing apart.

With his head under the sink and his long legs sticking out, he should have looked odd. Instead he seemed at ease, even masterful. There was something very manly about this task. As he cranked a wrench, shifting his weight in the cramped space, the hem of his T-shirt rode up, revealing a strip of his taut abdomen. She averted her gaze.

John had never been handy with tools.

Leah concentrated on putting away the leftovers. She packed a hefty portion of ham, potatoes, and green beans into a plastic container for Brian. Then she wrapped a piece of cherry torte in foil and added a tin of cookies to the stash.

“There,” he said, making a final adjustment. “Turn it on.”

She pressed the button to start the dishwasher. Water rushed into the machine, beginning a new cycle. “It works!”

He moved his head out from underneath the sink. “Run it once without any dishes to make sure.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, marveling at his skills. She’d been meaning to get the dishwasher fixed for ages. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“It was nothing.”

“Are you sure I can’t pay you?”

He gathered up his tools, preparing to leave. “I’m sure.”

Leah was both sorry and relieved to see him go. Although she enjoyed his company and appreciated his help, his presence unnerved her in a way she didn’t want to analyze. She also couldn’t afford to let anyone get too close. Intuition told her that Brian Cosgrove had a canny mind, along with deft hands.

To keep her children safe, she had to stay guarded.

Turning back to the counter, she put the food containers in a striped gift bag. “Merry Christmas,” she said, handing it to him.

He accepted the bag with a polite nod and she saw him out, locking the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, the house seemed empty. And too quiet. She went to check on the girls, noting that Alyssa had fallen asleep with Dr. Elmo in her arms. Mandy was still watching 101 Dalmations.

Leah curled up beside her, staring sightlessly at the screen.



Brian wasn’t able to relax when he came home from Leah’s.

The meal had been fantastic. Even after tasting her cookies, he hadn’t expected her to be such a good cook. Maybe because she was on the slender side and had kind of a skittish personality. Sharing a meal with a neighbor seemed out of character for her. Brian imagined that most chefs were round and gregarious.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t friendly. It was more like she wasn’t happy.

She’d lost her husband and was raising two kids on her own, so that was understandable. Most women in her position wouldn’t feel overjoyed.

But there was a deeper issue with her, he suspected. She’d panicked when she saw him this morning. She’d also made sure he didn’t have access to the serving fork. Although his sister had often moved sharp items out of the children’s reach, Leah’s kids weren’t babies. She considered him a threat.

He wasn’t insulted by her attitude. She was a protective mother and he respected that. What unsettled him was the thought of someone traumatizing her so badly that she expected others to do the same.

In a way, she reminded him of himself. He’d been bounced around a lot when he was a kid. So had his little sister. A few of the foster homes they’d lived in were just as dysfunctional as his mother’s house, and it wasn’t unusual for him to get picked on or roughed up. As he got older he’d become less of a target. He’d learned how to defend himself and his sister, but he’d never forgotten how it felt to be small and scared.

During the meal, he’d wondered if Leah’s husband had been abusive. Then her eyes had softened when she spoke of him and he dismissed the idea.

Whatever she’d gone through was none of his business. He was drawn to her and he had the strange feeling that she shared his interest. But he also realized that she didn’t welcome the attraction. He should forget about their impromptu Christmas get-together.

She wouldn’t invite him back.

Brian decided to keep an eye out for her anyway. The remodel would take several more months, and he liked the idea of being her unofficial security guard. No one could approach Leah’s house without him noticing.

He’d had no control over his foster-care childhood or his sister’s untimely death. He had no chance at having a relationship with his nieces, his only relatives. But he could take on the responsibility of watching over Leah and her children.

He could do it from a distance.




Chapter 3


Leanne was driving home from the grocery store, humming along to the radio.

Baby Melissa was fast asleep in her car seat. Leanne parked in the driveway and grabbed several bags of groceries, walking inside. John’s car had been alone in the garage, so she was surprised to hear more than one voice coming from the bedroom. Her husband sounded desperate, the other man, angry.

Frowning, she went down the hall. An intense wave of foreboding washed over her, and she almost turned around to go back to the car. Instinct told her to get Melissa and run. Instead, she moved quietly, softening her steps.

The door was cracked open. As she peered inside, her blood turned to ice. John knelt on the carpet, pleading for mercy. The man standing over him showed none. While she watched, he pulled out a gun and shot her husband in the head.

Leanne was too terrified to scream. But John’s killer looked up and their eyes locked. It was Mariano Felix, one of his “business associates.”

She dropped the groceries in the hall and fled. She ran through the garage, past the driveway, across the yard. She left her car. There was no time to put the keys in the ignition, and she didn’t want to endanger her daughter.

Heart pounding, she sailed over the hedge, into the neighbor’s yard, and ducked down out of sight. Her purse was still hanging off her shoulder. With a shaking hand, she reached for her cell phone, dialing 911.

Heart hammering, she peeked over the hedge. Felix burst from the house, approaching the driver’s-side door of her car.

“No!” she screamed.

He turned his head, catching sight of her behind the hedge.

She straightened, showing him the cell phone. An emergency operator had already responded to her call. “Please,” she said, begging for help. Begging for her life. For her baby’s life.

The neighborhood was quiet, but it wasn’t deserted. There were people in the nearby houses, cars on the street. Felix took off at a brisk pace, choosing not to murder her in front of dozens of possible witnesses.

He rounded the corner and disappeared.

She woke up in a cold sweat, his cruel face etched in her memory. The police had never found the loan shark who’d killed her husband. He was a cold-blooded criminal in a mafia organization and a very real threat to her.

The nightmare came less frequently now, over a year later. But it still had the power to set her nerves on edge.

Rising from the bed, she changed clothes, donning a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top. Judging by the bright sunshine and absent marine layer, it was going to be another unseasonably warm day.

The girls were on winter break for another week, and she’d promised them a trip to the beach. In her old life, she’d have gone shopping on the day after Christmas. Her world had changed so much that she didn’t miss spending money. And she certainly didn’t miss the credit card bills or the arguments with John.

When they first met, his success had impressed her. She’d grown up in a financially unstable household, so it was comforting to date someone rich. He’d spoiled her with expensive gifts and told her to never worry about a thing.

A few years after they got married, his career took a nosedive and their relationship followed suit. He hid his gambling addiction from her and lied about his whereabouts. Soon the facade came tumbling down.

If he hadn’t been murdered, she’d have filed for divorce. He’d refused to face their problems and never acknowledged that he needed help.

He wouldn’t let her in.

John’s death hadn’t been easier to deal with because she’d fallen out of love with him. Failing marriage or not, Leah had depended on him. He’d abandoned them and left her to pick up the pieces, and she still resented him for it.

Leah made breakfast for the girls, who couldn’t wait to walk down to the shore. They’d been in this house for several months, and although the beach was only two blocks away, they hadn’t spent much time there.

“Can we wear our suits?” Mandy asked.

“I suppose,” Leah said, smothering a surge of anxiety. Both girls had taken swimming lessons, but they were small, and the Pacific Ocean was dangerous. “We’re just going to get our feet wet.”

That was good enough for them. While they ran to their room to don their bathing suits, Leah packed a bag with snacks, drinks and towels. She didn’t have any beach toys, so she grabbed her gardening tools and put them in a small plastic bucket.

When they were ready, she ushered the kids outside, locked the door and set the alarm behind her. Brian was in his driveway, scrubbing down his work truck with a long brush. He was wearing gray cargo shorts and a faded red T-shirt.

She couldn’t ignore him like she used to, so she waved hello.

“What are you girls up to?” he asked with an easy smile, turning off the water faucet.

“We’re going to the beach!” Alyssa said.

His eyes traveled along Leah’s legs, which hadn’t seen the light of day, or felt the heat of a man’s gaze, in a long time. “My favorite place,” he said, clearing his throat. He winked at Mandy. “Have fun.”

She expected one of her daughters to invite him along. When they didn’t, Leah urged them forward, feeling like she’d dodged a bullet. But every step she took away from him made her insides twist with guilt.

“Wait,” she said, tugging on Alyssa’s hand.

Mandy stopped her forward march. “What?”

She turned to look at Brian again. He was wiping down the interior of his truck, studiously ignoring her. “Would you like to come with us?”

His hands stilled and he glanced over his shoulder.

Leah wasn’t surprised when Mandy and Alyssa started jumping up and down in agreement. They lived an isolated existence. The prospect of hanging out with anyone besides their mother was wildly exciting.

“Okay,” he said, tossing aside a dust cloth. Just like that, he slammed the driver’s side door of his truck and followed them to the beach.

They lived a few blocks from a long, narrow stretch of coastline known as The Strand. Several miles of road ran parallel to the beach, offering drivers a scenic view of girls in bikinis. Teenagers and rubberneckers drove up and down the strip every day of the week, checking out the hotties. Between the street and the beach there was a barrier of large, slate-colored rocks, mixed with heavy chunks of concrete. During high tide, the waves met these rocks and the beach all but disappeared.

Leah knew that because last time they’d had to walk all the way to the pier to find enough space to lay down a towel.

Today there was a nice amount of sand and it wasn’t too crowded. Leah pointed to a spot near the lifeguard tower and they headed toward it.

“Is the tide coming in?” she asked Brian.

“Going out,” he said.

There were some advantages to bringing a surfer along, she supposed. If one of her children got knocked down by a wave, he could save them.

Fortunately, the ocean looked peaceful at the moment. There were no powerful breakers churning up the sand. Soft waves lapped at the shore, barely causing a stir. “Did you go surfing this morning?”

He shook his head. “Nothing to ride.”

She glanced out at the gentle water. “Oh, of course. Silly question.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, I obviously don’t know anything about the ocean.”

“You didn’t grow up here.”

“Right.” And this was why she avoided people. Pretty soon he’d ask where she was from. “Did you?”

“Yes. Born and raised. Although raised is too kind a word to describe my upbringing. ‘Turned loose’ might be more accurate.”

“Why’s that?”

“I was a foster kid. My sister and I both were.”

Leah came to a stop near the shore, spreading out her towel and spraying the girls down with sunscreen. “Can we build sand castles?” Mandy asked. When Leah said yes, they grabbed the bucket of tools and started digging.

Alyssa got upset when her first tower crumbled.

“You need to pack it down,” Brian explained, helping her fill the cup again. He patted the sand with the flat of his hand, showing her. She turned it upside down and lifted the cup, delighted with the smooth-set formation.

While Alyssa and Leah made a grand sand castle, Mandy and Brian started digging a moat the size of a small pond. Soon it was a major building project, complete with a seaweed drawbridge and pebble walkway.

The girls were covered in sand by the time they were finished, so Leah took them to rinse off in the ocean. Although the water was very cold, they splashed in the shallow surf, chasing each other along the shore.

Brian smiled at their antics. “Do they ever get tired?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” she admitted.

He wore a mild expression, sympathy mixed with envy.

“Why don’t you have any children of your own?”

His brows rose at the question.

Leah flushed, realizing she was being nosy. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I just don’t know how to answer that without making you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly, trying to squelch her curiosity. “It was rude of me to ask.”

He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Your girls are lucky.”

She watched her daughters play. They hadn’t looked so carefree in a long time. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you never take your eyes off them.”

“I wish I could,” she murmured. “I fret too much.”

At that exact moment, Alyssa tripped and fell face-first into the water. Leah bolted into motion, running to her daughter and hauling her upright. Alyssa sputtered and coughed, gasping for breath. When her airway cleared, she started bawling.

Leah hugged Alyssa to her chest, cradling her bedraggled head. Her little body was shivering, sobs wrenching from her throat. She carried Alyssa back to the towel and wrapped her up in it, murmuring soft words of comfort. Brian handed another towel to Mandy and they sat together until Alyssa’s tears subsided.

He didn’t seem bothered by the minor incident. John had often accused her of babying the girls, but Leah had never been able to ignore their cries. She took an orange out of her bag, peeling it for Alyssa. “Okay now?”

She nodded, accepting a fruit slice. Mandy also wanted some. They ate the sweet, tart sections while the sun warmed their skin.

Leah offered Brian another orange, which he declined.

“Do you want to walk down the jetty?” he asked.

Leah eyed the man-made rock pathway that jutted out into the ocean. She’d seen fishermen casting poles from its jagged sides, and waves sloshing over the rocks, threatening to drag unsuspecting beachgoers out to sea.

“Mom’s afraid of water,” Mandy announced.

Brian glanced at Leah in surprise.

She peeled the second orange, her cheeks heating. “I don’t like deep water. Or big waves.”

“How big?”

“Over my head.”

“Those are the best kind.”

“For surfing, you mean?”

“Yeah. The bigger the wave, the better the ride. They go fast and break clean. And deep water is much less dangerous to wipe out in.”

She ate another slice of orange. “That makes sense.”

“Can you swim?”

“No,” she admitted. “The girls have taken lessons but I…can’t bring myself to.”

He gave her a curious look. “Is it just the ocean you’re afraid of, or all water?”

“All water, I guess. Lakes, oceans…swimming pools.” Before he could ask where her fear originated, she steered the conversation in a different direction. “Why do you like surfing so much?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to the jetty,” he said, jerking his chin toward it. “The waves aren’t even knee-high today. It’s perfectly safe.”

She rose, brushing the sand off her bottom. “All right.”

Mandy leapt to her feet. Alyssa forgot her tears and ran along the shore with her sister. It was about a quarter mile to the jetty so they had a few minutes to talk. The girls were within shouting distance, but couldn’t overhear their quiet conversation.

Leah crossed her arms over her chest, aware that the front of her tank top was damp from hugging Alyssa. Although she had a bra on, the white fabric looked transparent and she felt self-conscious.

Brian averted his eyes, as if he’d noticed her wet shirt but was too polite to stare. “One of my mom’s boyfriends taught me to surf,” he said, hands in his pockets. “It was the first time I remember feeling safe.”

She studied his face, unable to fathom an experience so opposite her own. Her worst childhood memory involved water.

“Out there, it’s quiet. Peaceful. You’re with other people, but alone. You have to be patient and wait for the right wave to come along. There’s no rushing, no pushing. Another surfer can drop in on you and steal your turn, but that’s rare, and it’s impossible to paddle close enough to get in a fistfight.”

Leah wondered if he’d grown up in an abusive home. She couldn’t imagine feeling more at ease in a turbulent ocean than on land. Troubled past aside, he had a calming presence and exuded self-confidence. His easy manner, matched with that unflinching honesty, made him seem kind of invincible.

Some men grew stronger through adversity.

“I first started surfing to escape my problems. Now I think it helps me deal with them. I always feel better when I come in from a session.”

“Cooking is like that for me.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I have certain dishes I make when I need to sort out my thoughts. I like to let my mind go blank and just focus on the task.”

He nodded, pleased that she understood.

“What happened to your mom’s boyfriend?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He wasn’t around for long, but he left a hell of a lot better impression than the others. I was sorry to see him go.”

When they arrived at the jetty, Brian climbed onto the path ahead of Mandy while Leah trailed after them, holding Alyssa’s hand. Being near deep water always made her uneasy, but his relaxed attitude reassured her. He hadn’t laughed at her or dismissed her fears. Without pushing, he’d encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone.

Maybe some of his assuredness would rub off on her.

They walked to the end of the jetty, watching power-boats and ocean barges in the distance. Leah picked up Alyssa, propping her on one hip. Brian put his hand on Mandy’s shoulder, pointing toward the rippling water. “Look, a dolphin.”

“Where?” she asked, searching the horizon.

“Just past that orange buoy.”

While they waited, breathless, the dolphin arced across the surface again. A second dolphin followed close behind, its curved back glimmering in the sun.

“Another one,” Mandy said.

Alyssa gasped. “I see it!”

Leah’s eyes met Brian’s and they smiled, sharing the moment of wonder. Her heart did a funny little jump inside her chest, half pain, half joy. She wished John was here beside her, but doubted he’d have appreciated the sight.

Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze away. It seemed strange to enjoy another man’s company, and unfair to compare him to her husband. She’d been unhappy with John and she hardly knew Brian.

Nor could she get to know him. In the past twenty-four hours, they’d exchanged a meal and shared some very personal information. It was almost as if they’d skipped the acquaintance stage—and she wasn’t supposed to make close connections.

She certainly couldn’t risk being more than friends.

Her pulse throbbed with the realization that the idea appealed to her. He was handsome and compelling, an irresistible combination of light and dark. He had strong, callused hands. She wanted him to touch her.

“I have to go,” she blurted.

If he was disappointed by her announcement, he didn’t show it. They headed back and the girls danced along the shore once again, kicking up sand and saltwater. Leah avoided Brian’s gaze and he made no attempt to engage her in conversation.

He didn’t speak at all until they reached his front walk. “Thanks for bringing me along,” he said. “It was nice.”

Mandy and Alyssa ran next door and started ringing the bell for fun, a move that never failed to exasperate Leah.

Brian took one look at her annoyed expression and laughed. “They like to try your patience.”

“Constantly.”

“It’s a good sign. Kids are supposed to misbehave.”

Leah thought it might be a sign of lax discipline, but she kept that to herself. It was clear that he preferred her parenting style over whatever he’d experienced as a child. At best, he’d been neglected.

“Why don’t you let me give you a swimming lesson?”

“Stop that!” she called out to the girls, dodging his question. The idea of diving into the ocean terrified her.

“I know a place with a heated pool. No big waves.”

“That’s a very kind offer, but I can’t.”

His eyes drifted south, settling on her damp tank top for a split second before rising back to her face. “Okay.”

She forced a smile. Although she wanted to linger, she said goodbye and hurried away. Every moment she spent with him made her long for another, and she couldn’t bear to pin her heart on false hopes.

She’d had enough loss in her life.




Chapter 4


The week passed quickly.

Leah kept busy with the girls, taking them to the park and the movies and even the San Diego Zoo. They enjoyed a glorious stretch of warm weather. The winter break would be over soon, so she was glad they’d made the most of their time.

Brian had been relegated to the back of her mind.

Mostly.

The girls spoke of him less often and no longer begged to pay him a visit. Like all children, they had short attention spans. Soon they would stop asking about him.

Leah couldn’t forget him so easily. He’d always been visible, walking to the beach, working out of his truck. Now his presence seemed magnified. They exchanged polite smiles but avoided meaningful eye contact. It was difficult to pretend he wasn’t there. She felt him, even when she couldn’t see him. She wondered if he felt her.

By Friday afternoon she’d grown restless. Before Brian knocked on her door, her lackluster existence had been bearable. His vibrancy and strength made her long for the things she didn’t know she’d missed.

Cooking usually improved her outlook, so she decided to go to the market. Maybe a plate of fun party snacks would fill the emptiness inside her. It was almost New Year’s Eve. She could pretend she was hosting an upscale soiree.

Witnesses in the program were encouraged to change their regular routines. Other than dropping off the kids at school and showing up to work on time, Leah kept a random schedule. Her habits as Leanne Houck, like going to Starbucks every morning or wearing designer clothes, were not part of her new persona.

And she could no longer afford those luxuries she once took for granted. Shopping at Green Market was her one indulgence. She went there to buy fresh produce and quality ingredients every week or so.

This afternoon she had a hankering for fresh mozzarella and imported olives. The selection of goods varied by region, and the Oceanside store had more foreign items than her old standby in Kansas City. Leah grabbed a cart and strolled up and down the aisles, perusing the well-stocked shelves.

When Alyssa started fussing, Leah handed her a piece of sugar-free bubble gum from the bottom of her purse.

“No fair,” Mandy said, stomping her foot. “I want one.”

Leah couldn’t find anything but a stray quarter. “You can buy a gumball from the machine at the front of the store.”

Alyssa tried to climb out of the cart. “Me, too!”

Sighing, Leah lifted her up and set her down. “Hold your sister’s hand,” she ordered Mandy. “And come right back.”

They raced off.

“Walk!” she called after them, wincing at the loudness of her voice. She’d always admired serene parents but had no idea how to be one. It wasn’t like she wanted to screech at her children in public.

Browsing the spices, she found a jar of saffron. There was a round mirror on the wall across from her, placed high enough that the store owner could keep an eye on the customers. When Leah glanced up, intending to make sure the girls hadn’t wandered too far, she caught a glimpse of a stocky man standing in the next aisle over.

He turned and walked away, but not before she saw his face.

It was Mariano Felix, her husband’s killer.

The spice jar fell from her hand, shattering on the floor. Felix continued around the corner and disappeared.

Leah’s heart seized in her chest. She’d only seen him for a split second. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Felix had distinctive wavy black hair and thick eyebrows. This man’s hair was shorter but his features were the same.

Abandoning her cart, she ran toward the front of the store, looking for Mandy and Alyssa. No longer concerned with appearing calm, she yelled their names. They weren’t at the candy machines near the entrance.

She spun around, searching the immediate vicinity. People were staring at her.

When a man in a tie approached, blocking her view of the parking lot, she felt like shoving him out of the way. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

“My daughters are missing!”

“I can page them on the loudspeaker,” he said.

Leah didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t sure which direction they’d gone. What if Felix had followed them outside?

She was about to bolt through the front entrance, screaming bloody murder, when she saw two small, dark-haired heads by the restroom door. There was a drinking fountain against the far wall. Of course.

Mandy and Alyssa walked toward her, hand in hand.

“I see them,” Leah said, nodding at the grocer. Instead of taking her children and leaving the store, she ducked into the bathroom with them, her pulse pounding. With shaking hands, she removed the cell phone from her purse and dialed the U.S. Marshals Service.

“What’s wrong?” Mandy asked.

“Never do that again,” Leah said, somewhere between furious and terrified. “I thought you’d been kidnapped!”

“Deputy Marshal Dominguez,” a man answered.

“This is Leah Hansen,” she said, lowering her voice and facing away from her daughters. “I just saw Felix.”

“Where?”

“At Green Market on Mission Road. I’m still here, in the bathroom.”

“What’s his current location?”

“I don’t know. He might be in the store.”

“Okay,” he said. “Sit tight. An officer will be there in a few minutes.”

It was twenty minutes before Dominguez arrived, and by then Felix was long gone. Working in conjunction with the USMS, Oceanside Police evacuated the market and searched the premises, to no avail.

While a female officer watched over the girls, Leah was questioned in detail about the sighting. She repeated the same information over and over, growing less certain each time she gave the description.

“Are you sure it was him?” Dominguez asked.

“No,” she said, rubbing her arms. It was cold in the store, and she couldn’t stop shivering.

“Let me show you the video.”

Leah watched footage from two separate cameras. Both were poor quality and neither had captured a good angle. The height and body type fit Mariano Felix, but there was no way to make a positive identification.

“I looked right at him in the mirror,” she said again.

“The mirror distorts reflections.”

He’d mentioned that already.

“I’ll take the footage to tech support and try to have it cleaned up,” Dominguez offered. “We’ll also run the license plate numbers for all of the cars in the parking lot. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Do I have to move again?” she asked.

His brows rose at the question. In the past eighteen months, they’d relocated her from Kansas City to Seattle, and from Seattle to Oceanside. “I doubt it. Sightings like this aren’t uncommon, Leah. I’d like for you to speak with a psychologist—”

“You don’t believe me?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “We will investigate to the fullest. In the meantime, it’s wise to exercise caution. A squad car will patrol your neighborhood over the weekend. You can meet with Dr. Phelps on Monday.”

“Fine,” she said, sighing. She didn’t want to be relocated. She just wanted this nightmare to be over.



Brian washed and dried the plastic containers and put them back inside the red-striped gift bag Leah had given him.

He’d planned to leave the items on her doorstep. It was almost 9:00 p.m., pretty late for a family with young children, and it hadn’t escaped his attention that she wasn’t interested in continuing their acquaintance. But before he could set down the bag and walk away, she wrenched the door open.

Her gaze was wide-eyed and mildly accusatory. He wasn’t surprised by that, having encountered her fierce protectiveness before. What knocked him for a loop, once again, was her beauty. Maybe because she appeared plain from a distance, he was fascinated by how striking she was up close.

Over the past week, he’d told himself that his memory had embellished the loveliness of her face or the shape of her breasts.

A quick glance down confirmed his recollection. The soft, loose shirt didn’t quite camouflage her figure. He suspected she wasn’t wearing a bra and might have been tempted to stare if he hadn’t noticed a far more important detail: she looked distraught.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Just to return this,” he said, handing her the gift bag.

Accepting it, she peeked inside. “You didn’t have to. The containers are disposable.”

“Oh.” Now he felt like an ass for disturbing her. “Well, thanks again for the invite. Everything was delicious.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

Brian worried that she was going to break down in sobs the moment he walked away. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, she avoided his gaze.

“Is someone bothering you? Besides me, I mean.”

She laughed at his self-deprecating humor. It was a strange, sad laugh, and an awkward moment, but some of the tension between them eased. “You’re not bothering me,” she said. “I just had a rough day.”

“Tell me about it.”

After a moment’s deliberation, she waved him inside. “The girls are in bed already.”

Brian’s pulse jumped at the news. Her girls were great, but he liked the idea of being alone with her.

“If I had anything besides juice, I’d offer you a drink.”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” he said, shrugging. He bought a six-pack every so often, but never drank more than one at a time.

She sat down on the couch, gesturing for him to do the same. “I had a scare earlier.”

His muscles tightened. “What kind of a scare?”

“Mandy and Alyssa walked away from me at the grocery store. When I went to look for them, I couldn’t find them. I panicked.”

“Where were they?”

“At the drinking fountain,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I felt this overpowering terror. I didn’t know what to do, or where to start searching for them. And I didn’t handle it well.”

Brian’s shoulders relaxed slightly. No one had hurt her or her children. “How did you handle it?”

“I ran around the store, screaming like a crazy woman.”

He smiled at the obvious exaggeration.

“It’s not funny,” she said.

“No,” he agreed, schooling his expression.

“I made a scene.”

He studied her with interest, wondering why she disliked drawing attention to herself. She dressed to blend in and seemed uncomfortable with scrutiny. “Most mothers would react the same way.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, appearing uncertain.

“My mom wouldn’t, of course. But she made plenty of scenes. She collapsed in the grocery store once, if I remember correctly.”

The blood drained from her cheeks. “Why?”

“Drugs, I suppose. I was only seven or eight, so the details are fuzzy. I remember watching her ride away in an ambulance.”

“What did you do?”

“I stole a candy bar while everyone was distracted and walked home.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“You take good care of your girls, Leah. My mother wouldn’t even have noticed if my sister or I disappeared.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. I turned out fine.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

He nodded, glancing away. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Brenda had been a loving, conscientious parent, like Leah. And yet, she’d died young while their drug-addled mom soldiered on. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“No.”

“Was your husband—” He cut himself off, realizing the inappropriateness of the question.

“Was he what?”

He bit the bullet. “Was he a good dad?”

“No,” she admitted, after a short hesitation.

Brian stared at her in amazement. The answer was unexpected, but plainly sincere. “Why not?”

“He was a good man, and he loved the girls, but he gambled. The habit…devoured him. It took him away from us.”

Her confession was like a punch in the gut. He didn’t understand how a man could fail such a beautiful family.

“Sometimes I’m glad he’s dead,” she said, her voice flat. “Mandy and Alyssa weren’t old enough to understand what he was going through. In their eyes, he was perfect. If he’d lived, I’m afraid he would have continually disappointed them.”

He knew what she meant. In his twenties, he’d given up hope that his mother would change, but he’d never been able to stop caring about her. Even now, she had the power to let him down.

“You think I’m terrible.”

“I’d be a hypocrite if I thought that.”

She examined his face. “Is that why you were alone on Christmas? Being with your mother is too difficult?”

He leaned back against the couch, resting his arm on the frame. “It’s difficult, yes. I haven’t been in touch with her since Brenda’s funeral. It was frustrating to see her grieve. Too little, too late, if that makes sense.”

Her eyes softened with understanding.

“I also wanted to be alone this year. Or, I thought that was what I wanted.”

“Why?”

“Christmas is always weird for me,” he said. “I have a friend from the foster care system that I sometimes hang out with, but he got married last summer. This year he went with his wife to visit her family for the holidays.”

“You’ve never been married?”

“No.”

“What about a steady girlfriend?”

“No one lately,” he said, feeling heat creep up his neck. He hoped she wouldn’t ask how long he’d been sleeping alone. “My friend’s wife has threatened to put my picture on an internet dating site.”

She laughed, raking a hand through her hair. “You should let her.”

Brian watched her intently, fascinated by every line of her face. He had no intention of allowing Gretchen to take over his love life. If he couldn’t find a woman on his own, he didn’t deserve one. “You should let me give you a swimming lesson.”

She stopped laughing.

“It’s easy.”

“For you, maybe.”

“If you were more comfortable in the water, you could relax at the beach.” When she chewed on the edge of her thumbnail, wavering, he said, “You also need to know how to swim for your daughters’ safety.”

“Now you’re giving me a guilt-trip.”

“Whatever works.”

“Where is this pool?”

“About ten minutes away. We’d have it all to ourselves. The girls can swim, too.”

“They’d like that,” she admitted.

He wished she’d say yes because she wanted to. “I can’t imagine where I’d be if I never had that first surfing lesson. It changed my life.”

She held up a hand to ward him off. “I’m never going surfing.”

Laughing, he said, “But you’ll try swimming?”

After a short pause, she nodded. “Okay.”

He grinned, delighted to have talked her into it. “You’ll be fine.”

“I might freak out.”

“Don’t worry about it. We can take as many breaks as you need.”

They made arrangements to leave before noon the next day, and she promised to pack a picnic lunch. Brian knew it wasn’t a date, but he couldn’t squelch the feeling of excitement and anticipation in his belly.

If he wasn’t concerned about scaring her off again, he might have tried to kiss her good-night.



Leah locked the door behind Brian and set the alarm, her heart sinking.

Why had she agreed to go swimming?

After the afternoon she’d had, the last thing she wanted to do was stress out or make a fool of herself. She knew she couldn’t tolerate being submerged in water. Tomorrow she was going to thrash and sputter like a wet cat.

She also felt conflicted about encouraging him. He looked at her in an appreciative, manly way and she liked it. She might have avoided eye contact with him this week but she hadn’t been able to suppress her fantasies.

Late at night, in her bed, she thought about him.

Although he was very attractive, it wasn’t just his looks that drew her in. His personality was irresistible. He seemed so…resilient. He’d had a hard life but he wasn’t broken. In his presence, she felt safe.

Brian could help her overcome her fears.

If she learned to swim, she’d be taking a step forward, managing her anxiety. She felt like she had no control over her current situation. The program told her where to live, where to work. The lack of freedom, along with her frequent nightmares and constant worry about Mariano Felix, was crippling her.

Had she really seen him earlier? Or had he been a figment of her imagination, an apparition from a nightmare?

After checking in on the girls, who were sleeping soundly, she turned off the lights and crawled into bed. If she was being honest with herself, she’d admit that hooking up with Brian had some advantages. He wasn’t the kind of man she would normally date, with his troubled past and iffy finances. But he was tall and intimidating-looking. He had hard muscles and strong hands.

Although all evidence showed that he was gentle with women and children, and sensitive to other people’s feelings, she’d bet he could raise those hands to defend himself if push came to shove.

He could defend her, too.

She’d never considered getting a boyfriend for security purposes. Since John’s death, she hadn’t felt a flicker of interest in a man. Her children came first. Besides, it wasn’t fair to get involved with someone under these circumstances. She was living under a false name, and could be relocated at the drop of a hat.

Now that she’d seen Felix—maybe—her outlook had shifted. She could use the extra protection. She needed to be proactive.

Hugging a pillow to her chest, she closed her eyes, imagining Brian in her bed.




Chapter 5


Leah spent half the night tossing and turning, torn between terrifying memories of Mariano Felix and sexy fantasies starring Brian Cosgrove.

Maybe she should cancel their swimming plans.

She couldn’t believe she’d told him the truth about John. When he’d asked if her husband had been a good father, she should have said yes. Portraying John as an ideal partner would have discouraged Brian from entertaining romantic thoughts.

But she’d looked into his dark, earnest eyes and was unable to tell the lie. Now she felt overexposed, almost desperate. She might as well have complained about John’s performance in their bedroom, which had become increasingly perfunctory.

They’d never been a perfect couple, just a pretty facade. And his secrets had weighed her down for so long. In the months before his murder, she’d wanted to tell her mother and her best friend about his gambling habit. Pride and shame held her back. Maybe if she’d been more honest, she could have built a support system. John’s friends and family might have been able to convince him to seek help. Too late, she’d learned an important lesson about addiction: secrets keep people sick.

She spent most of the morning doing chores. It was New Year’s Eve, and the kids would be going back to school on Monday. She’d return to work, decorating an endless assembly line of frozen cakes.

When the laundry was done and the dishes were put away, she told the girls that they were going to the pool with Brian. They cheered and danced around the living room before running to don their swimsuits. Leah made cucumber sandwiches and packed a Thermos of lemonade for their picnic lunch.

Stomach fluttering with anticipation, she searched her closet for her own bathing suit. Although she didn’t swim, she owned a sleek navy one-piece for appearances’ sake. John had often taken her to pool parties at the homes of his wealthy friends. She’d met Mariano Felix at one such occasion.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jill-sorenson/risky-christmas-holiday-secrets-kidnapped-at-christmas/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.