Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I knew he was single. That he’d never left the ranch. I’m in the FBI and have access to all the intel I want on him. Except I hadn’t looked into him until my supervisor put me on the case. To do so would have been too painful.
McGuinness knew the case was in my hometown. What he didn’t know was that I’d been in a relationship with the suspect…and more.
One look at Chance and I’m that eighteen-year-old girl again, believing his professions of love and devotion, giving him the gift I could only give once. Trusting him. Loving him.
God, after all these years, the wound still hasn’t healed. I didn’t want to come back, but this is my job, and my hometown. I’m the best person for the case.
I’m a trained special agent for the FBI, so I know how to keep my emotions in check. No way can he have any idea how much I’m quaking inside at this moment, how my legs are jelly and I’m forcing them to stand.
How amazing he looks. Older. Bigger. He was big at eighteen, but now? Broad shoulders, barrel chest, the same chiseled jaw, and piercing eyes. He’s even more handsome now than he was back then, which I didn’t think was possible.
“You?” Chance shakes his head, his blue eyes boring into me. “Avery. I can’t fucking believe it.”
I solidify my stance. “Believe it. I just got back from Detective Peterson’s office. He wasn’t happy that we’re taking the reins, but he’ll deal.”
“He’s a dick,” Chance mutters. He runs a hand over the back of his neck.
So are you.
I want to say the words so badly. I want to cry and scream and shout about how he shattered my heart all those years ago. I want answers, damn it. I deserve answers. He left me broken. So broken. And alone when I needed him the most.
But I maintain my professional countenance like a heavy winter coat because I don’t have a choice. He hurt me once. I’ll work this case and nothing more. I’ll move on, just like I did before. But I have my eyes wide open now. I know what Chance is really like and I will protect my heart.
I shrug, playing nonchalant. “Locals are never happy when the Feds take over. We’re used to it.”
He doesn’t reply. Just continues to stare at me, rake his gaze over every part of my body as if cataloging. And damn… It’s like fifteen years have vanished in the blink of an eye. Chance Bridger can still melt me into a puddle with a look. Just like he did in the halls at school.
He’s as gorgeous as ever, with that light auburn hair, fair skin, and blue eyes that I swear can see into my soul. The years have been kind to him. Other than a few laugh lines, his face still looks the same—russet scruff, sculpted jawline, full pink lips.
God, those lips…
And his body… He was always tall and muscular, but I swear he’s broadened. He’s wearing jeans and a red and black plaid shirt, and he’s downright brawny.
I draw in a breath, regaining control over my body.
He shakes his head and takes a step toward me. “Damn, Avery, I have so many questions.”
I hold up my hand. “I think you’d better leave the questions to me.” I shove my badge into the purse hanging over my shoulder. “I have every intention of getting to the bottom of this murder.”
His eyes widen and he takes a second. “You can’t possibly believe that I—”
With a shake of my head, I push on. “I’m not here to believe anything, Chance. I’m here to investigate. I find facts. Sometimes, it turns out people aren’t what I thought.”
Yeah, it was a not-so-subtle dig.
He takes another tentative step toward me.
I draw in another breath.
His gaze meets mine and then drops to my lips, my chest. “Avery. My God. Where have you been?”
I cock my head. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You know where I’ve been.” He raises his arms and then slaps his thighs. “Here. Working the ranch. And still wondering, after all these years, what the hell happened between us.”
Really? He’s going to play that card?
I’m not sure how to respond and still remain professional, but I don’t have to because he keeps talking.
“You married?” he asks.
“Engaged,” I say.
Why? Why did I just lie to him? I’m thirty-two years old, and I’m playing high school games. I need to stop it now. Right now.
I clear my throat. “That’s a lie. I’m not engaged.”
A little frown forms in his brow. “Oh?”
“I was engaged, but we broke it off a few months ago. I guess I’m still on auto-pilot with that answer.”
There. At least that’s the truth. Although my breakup with Tyler was nine months ago. Does that still count as only “a few months?” Close enough.