More Than Friends

Table of Contents

• Synopsis
  
• By the Author
  
• Acknowledgments
  
• Dedication
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-one
  
• Chapter Twenty-two
  
• About the Author
  
• Acclaim for Erin Dutton’s Work
  
• Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
  

Synopsis

Evelyn Fisher thinks she has the perfect role model for a long-term relationship, until her best friends, Kendall and Melanie, split up and all three women must reevaluate their lives and their relationships.

Determined to be a good friend to both, Evelyn supports Kendall and Melanie while they move forward, separately. But when she finds herself falling for one of them the delicate balance shifts. Will loyalty keep Evelyn from pursuing an unexpected chance at love?

More Than Friends

Brought to you by

eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

More Than Friends

© 2013 By Erin Dutton. All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-831-5

This Electronic Book is published by

Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 249

Valley Falls, New York 12185

First Edition: February 2013

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Credits

Editor: Shelley Thrasher

Production Design: Susan Ramundo

Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

By the Author

Sequestered Hearts

Fully Involved

A Place to Rest

Designed for Love

Point of Ignition

A Perfect Match

Reluctant Hope

More Than Friends

Acknowledgments

The past year while writing and editing this book has been an absolute roller coaster. As always, professionally, my thanks go to Shelley Thrasher, my amazing editor, for guiding me and teaching me. To Radclyffe for publishing my work and for your lessons on craft, which I hope have deepened this manuscript. And to the rest of the staff at Bold Strokes Books, for all you do behind the scenes.

But even more so, this time I owe some personal appreciation. To my family, I love you and wish I could be there for every moment. To my friends, who have listened when I needed to talk, and made me laugh when I wanted to cry. And to Christina, you are my constant and my comfort. You make everything better.

Dedication

For Christina—My best friend and the love of my life

Chapter One

“215B, I’ve got one not stopping. Eastbound on Shelby, passing Sixth.” Evelyn Fisher nearly shouted into her radio in order to be heard over her siren. She split her attention between the red sedan in front of her and the upcoming intersections, always watching for any other vehicles pulling out in the middle of her pursuit.

Her sergeant acknowledged her transmission and gave his permission to continue the chase. She never lifted her foot off the accelerator. Two other patrol cars pulled up behind her as she allowed a quick glance in her rearview mirror before returning her attention to the red Nissan Altima in front of her.

As the suspect vehicle slowed to round a corner, the passenger-side door popped open and one of the occupants jumped out. He hit the ground, barely able to regain his footing, then took off.

“Passenger just bailed.” The voice of one of her fellow officers crackled over the radio. “Male, Hispanic, white T-shirt, blue jeans.” The description was succinct in order to not tie up valuable airtime on the channel.

As the lead car, she stayed behind the sedan, confident that one of the units behind her would pick up the passenger. The officer in the second car called out the street names as they wove through the neighborhoods just east of downtown Nashville.

The organized cadence of the vehicle pursuit dissolved into the transmissions from the officers chasing the passenger on foot.

“I lost sight of him, behind the houses over here.”

“Dispatch, see if we can get aviation.”

“The Altima just went in the park. Driver’s looking for a place to bail.”

“Somebody hold back and seal this entrance. Maybe we can trap him in the park.”

“The passenger is in custody.”

Evelyn could feel the barely contained energy as officers keyed up one after another, but despite the seeming chaos, every person, from the dispatcher to the officers in the field, played their part in the fluid choreography. She concentrated on the vehicle in front of her, tracking every turn and assessing the danger to innocent bystanders as they careened over the narrow roads.

“Almost there,” she muttered. “Just a little farther.”

The suspect was clearly familiar with the large park as he took another quick turn toward the softball fields. But staying inside the park allowed more time for her colleagues to seal off the limited exits. At these speeds, their sergeant had to be close to calling off the pursuit. If they didn’t contain this guy before then, they might have to let him escape.

As they rounded the next corner, she flicked her eyes up ahead and smiled. A patrol car sat waiting for them to approach. “Gotcha. Where are you going now?”

Almost as if reacting to her words, the driver wrenched the wheel to the left and tore through an open field. When she followed, her tires rebelled at the lack of asphalt, spinning and shredding the grass beneath them. Apparently having the same problem, the driver stopped abruptly and jumped out of the car. She slammed her car into Park and shoved her own door open. She shouted for the suspect to stop and get on the ground. Knowing he wouldn’t comply, she sprinted after him.

He was fast, but, even with the cumbersome gun belt jangling at her waist, she was faster. In seconds, she was within steps of catching him, as he raced toward a vacant softball field. She groaned when he vaulted the chain-link fence, but she flung herself over it, too. Chatter echoed from her shoulder mic as another officer called out their position. Backup was behind her somewhere, and if she could just catch this guy, her fellow officers would be with her in seconds.

The suspect cut left toward the woods, but the sudden move slowed him down just enough. She pushed a little harder, her thighs burning in response. With three long strides she was on him, tackling him. He grunted as she landed on top of him, but he didn’t stay stationary long. He flipped onto his back and threw her free. Before she had time to react, he landed a punch high on her cheek, and pain shot through the left side of her face. When he tried to scramble to his feet, she caught him. He swung at her again, but she avoided the blow and landed one of her own.

She’d managed to pin him to the ground and pull one of his arms behind his back when several other officers surrounded her. One of them grabbed his other arm, while another pressed a large hand against the back of his head, forcing his face into the grass. She secured the handcuffs with a satisfying series of clicks, then stepped back.

“215B, suspect is in custody,” she said into her radio between panting breaths. She bent at the waist and braced her hands on her knees.

Two officers hauled the suspect to his feet. She straightened and clapped one of the officers on the shoulder. “Thanks, Jeb.”

“Nice catch,” Jeb Riggs said, his eyes shining with the same adrenaline that sang through her body.

“You okay, Fisher?” Sergeant Eddie Stahlman asked as he reached her side.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“How’s your face? You need an x-ray?”

“No, sir.” She glanced at the suspect, knowing he was within earshot. “He doesn’t hit that hard.”

“Okay. Then you’re feeling well enough to write reports.” He smiled when she winced. Between the original traffic violations, the pursuit, and the charge for assaulting an officer, she’d be filling out reports for a couple of hours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring your car around to the ball-field entrance. Riggs will search him for you.”

She jogged back to the field where she’d left her car and smiled when she saw a familiar face. Kendall Jarvis rested against the quarter panel of Evelyn’s patrol car, her hip canted and her hands slung over the heavy gun belt at her waist.

“Hey there, hotshot.” Kendall swept her blue eyes over her now-dirty uniform. “Playing linebacker again?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Next to Kendall’s perfectly styled spiky blond hair and crisply pressed uniform, she felt even more disheveled.

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. I’ll definitely need a drink after this shift.” Every Friday night, she met Kendall and her girlfriend, Melanie, at a bar downtown to decompress from the work week. Sometimes she took a date, but more often, like tonight, she wouldn’t.

“Just make sure you clean up first. Melanie’s going to have a fit when she sees you.”

She swiped at the grass and mud smearing her navy-blue polyester pants, but those stains would require more than the brush of her palm. She shrugged. “I’ve got clothes in the car. I’ll shower at the station.”

“It’s not your clothes I’m worried about. It’s your face.”

She opened her car door and slid behind the wheel, then pulled the rearview mirror around and studied her already-swollen cheek. Her skin was bright red and would soon turn into a nasty bruise. “She’s seen worse.”

Over the years, Melanie had seen a number of bumps and bruises. Of the two, Kendall had a quicker temper, but neither of them shied away from getting physical when the job demanded it.

She rolled the window down and swung the door shut. “See you later,” she called as she maneuvered carefully back onto the asphalt.

When she stopped in front of the ball field, Jeb led the handcuffed suspect to her car. The guy glared at her, but Jeb caught the look and his big hand tightened visibly around the man’s upper arm. He winced and glanced nervously at Jeb. She smiled. She’d seen that expression on more than one suspect’s face. At six foot five inches, with a solid build, a natural scowl, and a military haircut, Jeb rarely had to get physical to gain submission.