Leah rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen the tension in her neck as she tied her running shoes. It had been a long day. It was nine o’clock and had been dark outside for hours already. Her conversation with the chief kept circling back in her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to shut them down and redirect.
Connor was sleeping and Riley was studying. Leah had held her son a little tighter tonight and figured her past emotions were catching up to her.
Five days was the most she’d taken off in a row since making detective. She could tell herself that it was because she was focused on getting ahead, that she had tunnel vision, and part of that would be right. The other very real part was that digging into work was easier than dealing with parents whose love came with conditions and a husband who’d died shortly after a diagnosis and short bout with illness.
They’d been married two months before the fatal news came.
The feeling of eyes watching Leah caused the hairs on her neck to prick. She glanced around, realizing she was most likely being paranoid. It didn’t matter. She would never take an unnecessary risk.
She brought her hand to the butt of her holstered Glock to rest as she scanned the street. There was nothing going on and no one around. The noise was nothing more than a burst of wind shuffling around leaves across the street on the sidewalk.
Leah finished tying her shoes and stretched her hamstrings. She rolled her ankles around, keeping careful watch of her surroundings. And then she tucked her left earbud in place and cranked up “Bad Medicine” by Bon Jovi.
A few minutes later, she started off toward her trail, walking at a faster pace than usual. Eyes and ears open, she knew it would be impossible to focus on her run while the real killer was still on the loose. At least the area was hot and that would make him less likely to strike again so soon. She had no idea if her popular running trail was the target of a murderer or if he’d strike anywhere he could isolate a victim. A chill raced down her spine as she picked up speed to a light jog.
The cool night breeze toyed with her hair as she finally found her stride. It felt good to run. She thought about the rubber band around her wrist, about pulling her hair off her face, but she liked the way it felt as it whipped around in the chilly wind. Her hair down, covering her neck, kept her warmer. She’d left her jacket at home, wearing only a sweatshirt in case she needed quick access to her Glock.
The turn at Porter’s Bend was a quarter of a mile away when she spotted a man sitting on the bench. Her heart gave a little flip. She knew exactly who he was. Deacon Kent.
Leah pulled the earbud from her ear and let it dangle in front of her as she made a beeline toward Deacon. “What are you doing here?”
On the bench next to him sat two cups of what looked like coffee.
“Hoping to run into you.” He quirked a smile like he’d just figured out the double entendre. “Coffee?”
The warm brew would feel good in her hands. She took the offering being held up.
It was too hot to drink.
“You just got here?” It wasn’t good that her routine made her so predictable in the greater sense. For now, she liked it. But if Deacon knew her schedule, then anyone could easily figure it out. Running outside in the cold had her ears and nose freezing while the rest of her was sweaty. It was strange how that worked.
“I wanted to check on you after your meeting with the chief. Make sure he didn’t go too hard on you.” Deacon nodded as he stood.
“Don’t get up for my sake.” She’d barely said the words when she realized he was cut from the kind of cloth that would make it impossible for him to sit when a lady stood next to him.
“The bench isn’t all that comfortable,” he said by way of explanation, but she figured it had to do with a Cowboy Code. It was another nice thing she didn’t want to notice about Deacon Kent.
For a split second they just stood there in silence. He was standing so close she could smell his woodsy aftershave. She flexed the fingers on her free hand.
Eye contact was a bad idea. She knew the second their gazes met that she was in trouble again. Keeping her attraction in check with this man was proving far more difficult than she’d expected.
“Something’s going on between us.” Boldly, his gaze never left hers.
All she could say was, “Yes.”
“The kisses—” he paused for a brief second “—they can’t go anywhere.”
“I know.” She shouldn’t have felt let down at saying those two words out loud. They were true and she meant them on an intellectual level. Her emotions were getting the best of her. Deacon was the first man she’d been attracted to since... She should say the man she’d married but that wouldn’t have been true. No man had ever made her feel the way Deacon did.
“Not because I don’t want them to,” he said.
“Save me the it’s-me-and-not-you speech. Okay?” She would literally shrivel up right there in front of him if he recited that one. Embarrassment flamed her cheeks.
He started to explain himself, but honestly she wasn’t in the mood for excuses. She put her hand up. “Seriously. I’m a grown woman. We kissed. I’m sure if we took it further, the fireworks would blow my mind. I’ve got a Jane Doe case I can no longer work thanks to my boss’s orders of a ‘vacation,’ a killer on the loose on my favorite jogging trail and you’re trying to track down a cattle butcher.”
The chilly air was starting to penetrate her sweatshirt so she sat down on the bench. Besides, she needed to put a little distance between them. So it didn’t help matters when he took a seat right next to her. He was so close their outer thighs touched.
A shiver rippled through her in sharp contrast to the heat pulsing up her leg from the contact.
“How’d it go with your boss?” Deacon asked.
“I’m on a forced vacation.” She shifted her weight away from him to create some distance. There was way too much heat radiating from him and he was right. An attraction now was too much of a distraction. It was most likely so intense because he was here on a cold night, showing up just when she needed someone to lean on.
“That doesn’t sound good for your career.” A sharp sigh issued. “Maybe I should have a talk with Detective Dougherty.”
“Won’t help. In fact, that might make things worse for me.” She wanted to explain her complicated history with Charles, but she also realized she and Deacon knew very little about each other. Another blast of frigid wind slammed into her and she shivered again.
Deacon took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She thanked him but he made a gesture like it was no big deal. Considering he was pretty much the only man who’d done that for her, it was.
Since she figured the best way to make Deacon run was to share a little about her life, she decided to go for it.
“I have a kid.”
“Boy or girl?” He didn’t seem shocked by the revelation. And then she remembered that she’d called home the other night and he must’ve overheard her talking to her sitter, checking on her child.
“Boy. Connor’s three years old.”
“My brother has young twins.” He laughed and it was a deep rumble in his chest. “They’re adorable but keep him hopping.”
“Twins?” She couldn’t hide her shock. She couldn’t even imagine what that must be like, considering how much Connor kept her on her toes.
“A boy and a girl,” he said.
“Wow. Just wow.” Leah tried to wrap her mind around it and came up short. “He must be...tired.”
She laughed despite herself.
“The ranch has been busy to say the least.” Deacon’s smile looked so good on him.
“Is that part of the reason you’re searching for the butcher? I mean, you have a wonderful family and it sounds like lots of little ones running around.” She couldn’t imagine that kind of loyalty but then she’d never had siblings. “You guys are close-knit, right?”
“The butcher made his first mistake by stepping on our land. Kents are loyal to each other and to Texas. And, yes, we’re close. Some days too much.” He chuckled and the sound came from low in his chest again. She didn’t want to notice how sexy his voice was vibrating through the crisp night air. Or the inappropriate warmth it brought. All she really wanted to do was shut down that side of her altogether like it had always been so easy to do in the past. “What about you? What about your family?”
The questions caught her off guard.
“It’s just me. I mean, I have parents, of course, but we’re not close.” Had she already opened up too much in their previous conversation? She didn’t want to go into a lengthy explanation about her parents not even knowing her son because they didn’t agree with her choice in men. Or the fact, looking back, she may have confused her feelings for Wyatt for real love because her parents were so opposed to the relationship in the first place.
“They don’t see your son?” There was no condemnation in his voice like she’d expected. There was disbelief.
“Not really. We go to lunch with them once a year on the day after his birthday,” she admitted. A surprising shock of pain stabbed her in the chest. When she heard herself say the words out loud, it sounded lonely even to her.
“He has you and his father,” Deacon said.
“I’m afraid it’s just me.” There was no pity in her voice. She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She’d allowed Wyatt to die in peace by not telling him about his son. Wyatt would never have forgiven himself for abandoning his child—he hadn’t—but he’d have never seen it that way.
“Oh.” There was so much confusion communicated in that one word.
“He died without knowing he had a child on the way.” The air whooshed from her lungs. She never spoke about it, and even though she took an emotional hit by doing just that, relief flooded her, too. She’d spent too much time locking up her emotions so she didn’t offend anyone.
“I’m really sorry about that.” There was so much sincerity in his voice.
“I knew but didn’t tell him.” Again, she expected judgment but found none. A rare feeling of acceptance crept over her.
“I’m sure you had a good reason.”
“Wyatt was his name. His own father wasn’t around and he had a lot of emotional baggage because of it. I often told him that sometimes no parent was better than two, but he’d tell me I should be grateful that I had people who cared about me.” She was on the one hand. But on the other, her life had been strangely isolating with her parents around. “This won’t make sense to you with your family background, but being with my parents made me feel like a third wheel. It was like they were in some kind of club that I didn’t belong to.”
He sat there in silence for a minute like he was contemplating her words. Maybe he did know?
“Families can be complicated,” he said.
“That sure as hell describes mine.” She paused a beat. “Wyatt found out he was terminal and I just couldn’t let him die feeling like he’d abandoned his child. As it was, he had someone who cared about him by his side when he took his last breath. I wasn’t going to ruin that for him, even though I question myself every single day for making that decision.”
“Second-guessing yourself won’t make the pain go away.” His expression said he had firsthand knowledge of the fact. “It’ll only extend it. You did right by your husband. You made the only call you could in an impossible situation. He’s at peace.”
A few rogue tears spilled down Leah’s cheeks and she realized just how much she’d needed to hear those words. She hadn’t been able to talk about her relationship with Wyatt at work because dating a coworker was bad enough and marrying one—especially one so much older than she—had garnered quite a few hall whispers when she walked by. She’d tried to pretend that she didn’t notice or that it didn’t hurt her feelings but she was human. Everyone wanted to feel accepted by peers.
It surprised her when Deacon thumbed away the stray tears. Contact was welcomed, even though she knew better than to allow herself to want it.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. Too quickly?
“Don’t be.” His gaze lingered and he seemed to catch himself when he broke eye contact and leaned against the bench again. A sharp breath issued a few seconds later. “We should talk about the case.”
DEACON HAD HAD to catch himself before he fell into that pit again. The one that had him ignoring all the warning sirens sounding off in his head. It had only been days since they’d met and yet part of him felt like they’d known each other for most of their lives. Deacon had never been a love-at-first-sight person so the bolt of lightning that had struck him caught him way off guard. Leah Cordon needed to be hands-off. Period.
“The person who killed Jillian Mitchell could have been paying attention to the news,” Leah said.
“Which either means we might be dealing with a copycat or someone who wants us to believe our butcher has moved on to women.” He was grateful for the refocus. He needed to keep his attention on the case where it needed to stay. Focus was not normally a problem for Deacon. “Zach made another statement. News about the weapon has been intentionally left out of the press on our side.”
“It’s harder to keep that under wraps in a town this size,” she said.
“Did the chief clue you in to what Charles believes?” He didn’t want to talk about her ex but there was no helping it. The man was in charge of Jillian Mitchell’s case.
“Dougherty believes the killer graduated to a better tool if these two cases are linked.” She took a sip of coffee.
“Elijah Henry can’t prove his whereabouts but that didn’t mean he committed the crime. He was a janitor in the building where Jillian Mitchell worked.” Leah reacted to that statement by sitting up a little straighter.
“He knew her?”
“I must’ve forgotten to mention that part earlier. The two might’ve been in the same building at the same time but they didn’t keep company. They’d never shared an elevator or spoken.”
“It sounds like a pretty loose association,” she admitted.
“Why does Dougherty want to wrap this case up so fast?”
“Public pressure. The mayor’s office is involved. This kind of brutal crime has a high profile in the community and he wants to be a hero.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m making him sound like a jerk.”
“That’s true of what I witnessed earlier.”
“Yeah, I know. I get that.” She sat there. Her gaze intensified on her coffee. “He came to me for advice when his kid got sick last year. I didn’t know what to tell him but I wanted to help. I mean, I know what it’s like to lose someone. Maybe not a child. I can’t even imagine that horror.”
Deacon went quiet.
“But his thirteen-year-old got a terminal diagnosis and he started spending all his time off at Children’s Medical Center. I remembered what it was like with Wyatt and I guess I felt sorry for Charles. His daughter passed away and his wife left him. He seemed all alone in the world. I thought he needed a friend. Hell, I needed a friend. I thought being pals was where it was all headed but then we were both lonely.” She shrugged as more tears spilled out of her eyes. “One thing led to another. It all seemed harmless enough until I realized he was developing deeper feelings. I’m broken in that way. I can’t go there with anyone.”
She flashed her eyes at him as though she expected a reaction.
She wasn’t going to get one, not one of judgment, anyway. He understood lonely and maybe that was the strong pull to her. They’d both experienced heartache and been let down by people. He could guess the rest of the story between her and Charles from there and the fact that it had ended badly.
He admired her courage. “From what I know about you so far, you’re incredibly brave.”
Leah was shaking her head.
“It’s true.” He figured he’d only heard the tip of the iceberg of her story, and here she was helping others find answers.
What questions kept her awake at night?
“I’m fine.” She set down her coffee cup. “It’s Jillian Mitchell’s family that I’m worried about.”
He felt a wall come up. Did she feel the need to protect herself from him?
It was smart of her. After hearing her story, his attraction had grown and he didn’t mean the physical part. There was no question about the sexual current being stronger than anything he’d ever experienced. Her mind fascinated him, the way she thought.
It was easy to see that she was a caring person and he seriously doubted she would’ve pushed her own parents away if they’d made any real effort. She mentioned that she and her son saw her parents once a year. If Leah didn’t want a relationship with them, she wouldn’t even make that much effort. What she’d said about Dougherty lingered in his mind. Deacon didn’t care what the man had been through—and the thought of losing a child or watching one die wasn’t something he took lightly. That didn’t give anyone a free pass to abuse others.
Charles Dougherty needed to stay in check. Deacon would keep an eye on the detective.
“It’s not in your best interest to be seen with me.” Deacon stood up to leave.
“I don’t care what other people think,” she said quickly. She stood and shrugged out of his jacket. She immediately shivered with the blast of cold air that came next as she handed it back to him.
“Wear it. It’s big enough to give you easy access to your weapon but still keep you warm,” he said. “I’m fine without it.”
“Take your coat, Deacon.” She shoved it toward him, and there was so much hurt and vulnerability in her eyes.
“Hell, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He grabbed the material being thrust into his chest with enough force to leave a mark.
“In case you don’t know, I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time and I don’t need you or anyone else taking pity on me.” Leah tossed the empty coffee cup in the nearby trash can.
“Need or want?” Seeing the vulnerability in Leah’s eyes shouldn’t have made him want to kiss it away. Fireworks had been simmering between them from the first meeting, and despite the circumstances the flame had been lit. Fanning it would have been a mistake in the big picture but his in-the-moment mind argued for it.
“What’s the difference?” She stood there in front of him, glaring at him, daring him to answer.
Leah Cordon was temptation in leggings and a sweatshirt.
Since she was so close and because her lips were too damn tempting, he asked, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”