Safe From the Fire (25 page)

“Sorry,
this was a mistake,” she said and turned to go.

Tony
appeared in the doorway to the Sheriff’s office, holding an open file folder.

“Evie,
could you get Matt Harris on the phone?  I can’t make heads or tails of his
handwriting.”

He
looked up and she stopped in her tracks.

How
could I have forgotten how gorgeous he is?

Tall
and strong, with a face so beautiful she ached at the sight of it, he was
exactly as she remembered him, except for the dark eyes filled with pain.   She
remembered when they were filled with love.  With heat and passion and joy. 
For her.

She
offered a tentative smile.

“Hello…Sheriff.”

“Nora.”

The
play of emotions on his face moved swiftly from shock to relief to anger, and
he turned to the deputy, his eyes stormy.

“I
see you’ve met Evie.  Evie Asher, this is Nora.  She’s my wife.”

THE END

Spend a little time in Bright’s
Ferry!

Don’t miss Book #1,
Safe From
the Dark
.

Book #3,
Safe From the Storm
– Coming June, 2013

SAFE FROM THE DARK

EXCERPT

"SON
OF A BITCH!"

Evie
Asher swerved to avoid the fallen tree, only to feel the sedan jerk as the
tires sank six inches into the mud off the side of what only the most
charitable of lunatics would call a road. It was only mid-afternoon, but the
thunderclouds and sheets of rain had darkened the October day to twilight and
turned the dirt road into sludge. Ten minutes of spinning wheels confirmed her
bad luck – stuck fast.

Fucking
perfect
, Evie
thought, and slammed her hand against the steering wheel, instantly regretting
it as splinters of pain shot up her aching arm to the partially-healed wounds
in her shoulder and side. She had ignored the sling for the trip from New York,
finding it awkward to drive one-handed, but after ten hours, even Evie's
legendary stamina was giving out and her whole left side was one big, burning
ache. She squinted through the rain-slicked windshield at the split road ahead
and considered her options. If memory served, her grandmother's cabin was about
a mile up the right fork. The nearest neighbors were the Daniels, a half mile
down the opposite fork.

Evie
had a vague recollection of her Gram taking her to visit Martha Daniels, who
smelled of lemon and clean linen, cooing over her and wishing she had a little
girl of her own. It was a nice memory, one of Evie's last good ones before her
life went to hell. She wondered if Mrs. Daniels would remember her fondly or if
disapproval would fill her eyes when she opened the door. If Evie were lucky,
she wouldn't remember her at all. Evie had changed, grown up miraculously in
one piece, and remade her life as a tough and capable member of the NYPD, until
a few weeks ago, when two bullets had knocked her out of commission and her
monumentally bad relationship decision had blown up in her face.
Apparently
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The
discovery that her grandmother had left her the property in Bright’s Ferry,
despite everything, had been a welcome surprise. There was a chance the gossip
hadn't spread this far. Bright’s Ferry was about as rural as you could get,
quietly tucked against a secluded New England bay, a good spot to start over. Unless,
of course, your parents were at the center of the biggest town scandal in
decades. Still, it had been twenty years, and Evie had nowhere else to go.

Maybe
this time it will stick,
she thought with a sigh.

At
the very least, Martha and Hank Daniels would let her use the phone to call the
town's lone garage. It was the good human thing to do, regardless of whatever
news about her might have made it back to them.

Evie
checked her cell phone, unsurprised by the lack of bars, and shoved it into her
backpack. There was no way around it, she was going to get soaked. She had
never waited around to be rescued, and she wasn't about to start now. Evie took
a quick glance around the car, reached for the door handle, and then paused.

You
don't need the gun,
she
reminded her inner cop, who grumbled.

A
brief inner struggle and Evie opened the glove compartment, grabbed her 9mm,
and awkwardly shrugged into her shoulder holster, gasping in pain. She
immediately felt better when the weight of the weapon settled into its
customary place, and cautiously eased her hoodie on over it.

One
more hour,
she
promised herself.
One more hour and you'll be lounging in front of a
fireplace, drinking a nice pinot and reading about the dark-eyed Sabatino doing
deliciously illicit things to his Contessa on the library floor.

She
hefted the backpack onto her good side and stepped out into the rain.

SHIVERING
AND COMPLETELY DRENCHED, Evie dropped her backpack on the Daniels' porch. It
was a beautiful hundred-year-old farmhouse that was obviously in the process of
being restored – scaffolding protected a new wing off the side of the two-story
structure. Evie spared only a quick glance around – her teeth were starting to
chatter.

Fingers
tight with cold, Evie raised a hand to knock.

Nothing.

Come
on, come on.

Someone
had to be home, judging from the sporty little SUV in the driveway sitting next
to a more utilitarian truck. The lights within blazed with beckoning warmth and
the smoky scent of a fireplace teased Evie with promises of heat and comfort.

She
knocked harder, kicking the door for good measure, stumbling back as it jerked
open.

"What
the hell, Tom? Can't a guy take one Sunday afternoon – ”

He
broke off abruptly, hazel eyes widening.

Evie
tried to form words, but her brain inconveniently chose that moment to shut
down, obviously overloaded by impending hypothermia and the sight of six plus
feet of bare, tanned muscle standing in the doorway, clutching a blanket around
his waist with lean, elegant hands. His skin had a light sheen of sweat and his
dark hair was ruffled over those bright hazel eyes.

Hot.

Even
the inner cop whimpered and she gave it a mental shove.

Pull
it together, Asher.

"I'm
so sorry to bother you, but I was looking for Mr. or Mrs. Daniels – ”

His
brows snapped together with a frown.

"They're
dead. Over a year now. Car accident."

"I’m
sorry, I didn't know. I was headed to the old Asher cabin down the road and my
car got stuck."

"You
were trying to get out there in this?"

Incredulous,
he gestured and the blanket slipped just a bit, exposing another inch of taut
waist and a narrow pelt of dark hair under his navel that arrowed downward in a
most interesting manner.

Evie
swallowed and kept her eyes on his.

"I
just need a phone to call the garage, if that's okay."

"Colin?"
The breathy voice drifting down the stairs had Evie's face heating in a blush,
despite her shivers, as her brain stuttered back into working order.

Two
cars in the driveway, panting sex god in the doorway. Way to go, Asher. You
just cock-blocked your new neighbor
.