around the darkened house. A vase on the table held a dozen dried, long-stemmed red roses—roses he'd given her on Valentine's Day. The look on her face the day he brought them to her was worth a million bucks. He'd felt like a king.
He glanced at the sofa where they'd sat side-by-side and watched movies, television, and hockey games. There was little better than a Saturday movie with Kendall curled up at his side. Tears filled his eyes once again.
"Goodbye, Kendall. I love you."
He put the flashlight back on the stairway ledge, closed the door to the kitchen and made his way through the basement to the same window he'd used to crawl in. Once outside, he pulled it closed and secured it as best he could. Maybe someday he'd come back and fix it
He had nowhere else to go and no one to turn to. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to keep his red hair under cover. He stood outside for a long time. The only place he could think of to go was that cold, dirty spot beneath the bridge.
* * * *
When he'd first noticed Louie at the arena, Paul initially thought was she was another no-nonsense woman doing double-time to succeed in a male-dominated world. He knew the type well: tough as nails and pushy. He understood it was difficult at best to break into a field long seen as an exclusive haven for men, and gave women credit for crashing boundaries. For breaking the old glass ceiling. Everyone deserved the chance to do what their heart called them to do.
Still, respect for their ambition aside, he also found they weren't usually his type. He was more into a friend and a lover, not a competitor. Day to day he was in a world competitive enough and had lived there since childhood. He didn't want to come home to it as well, and if that made him old-fashioned, then so be it.
Louie Russell was different from any woman he'd met before. She was tough all right and entirely focused, just like the job required. At the same time, there was a kindness to her that surprised him. She was a world away from the tough, hard-drinking, chain-smoking stereotype of a bounty hunter, man or woman. She had a gentle face and eyes as expressive as they were beautiful. Every time he looked into her eyes, he felt an insane urge to pull her into his arms and crush his lips to hers.
If she'd intrigued him that first day, today did nothing to lessen the feeling. Earlier, she'd sent him on his way, an odd thing for him, since he was typically the guy who gave the orders. Needless to say, he wasn't real good at following orders, at least not these days.
In his playing days, he'd been a team guy. It was the only way to win and winning was important to him. Now, he was the chess master; he made the decisions and called all the moves. At least until Louie had walked into his life. She seemed to be the one handing out the orders.
Except … he hadn't exactly followed her directions. He'd gone to his car all right, but he hadn't left for the arena or home. Instead, he'd parked about a block away from Louie's office and waited. When she'd left, so did he, a discreet distance behind her. For the first time ever, he was tailing someone. A little James Bond in an SUV, though not quite as suave or cool as Bond.
He'd expected her to go home or perhaps visit one or two of Jamie's favorite haunts to try and get a bead on him. If he was the hunter, that's what he would done. Of course he wasn't the hunter, and once again his expectations were way off base. The rehabilitation facility she disappeared into raised his interest level to all an all time high. What or who was inside the low brick building?
When Louie had reappeared a little under an hour later, the pain on her face was all too clear even under the harsh glow of the parking lot lights. Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested on them. The confidence and the bravado he'd witnessed thus far was nowhere to be seen. A curious turn of events.
Once he followed
He glanced at the sofa where they'd sat side-by-side and watched movies, television, and hockey games. There was little better than a Saturday movie with Kendall curled up at his side. Tears filled his eyes once again.
"Goodbye, Kendall. I love you."
He put the flashlight back on the stairway ledge, closed the door to the kitchen and made his way through the basement to the same window he'd used to crawl in. Once outside, he pulled it closed and secured it as best he could. Maybe someday he'd come back and fix it
He had nowhere else to go and no one to turn to. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to keep his red hair under cover. He stood outside for a long time. The only place he could think of to go was that cold, dirty spot beneath the bridge.
* * * *
When he'd first noticed Louie at the arena, Paul initially thought was she was another no-nonsense woman doing double-time to succeed in a male-dominated world. He knew the type well: tough as nails and pushy. He understood it was difficult at best to break into a field long seen as an exclusive haven for men, and gave women credit for crashing boundaries. For breaking the old glass ceiling. Everyone deserved the chance to do what their heart called them to do.
Still, respect for their ambition aside, he also found they weren't usually his type. He was more into a friend and a lover, not a competitor. Day to day he was in a world competitive enough and had lived there since childhood. He didn't want to come home to it as well, and if that made him old-fashioned, then so be it.
Louie Russell was different from any woman he'd met before. She was tough all right and entirely focused, just like the job required. At the same time, there was a kindness to her that surprised him. She was a world away from the tough, hard-drinking, chain-smoking stereotype of a bounty hunter, man or woman. She had a gentle face and eyes as expressive as they were beautiful. Every time he looked into her eyes, he felt an insane urge to pull her into his arms and crush his lips to hers.
If she'd intrigued him that first day, today did nothing to lessen the feeling. Earlier, she'd sent him on his way, an odd thing for him, since he was typically the guy who gave the orders. Needless to say, he wasn't real good at following orders, at least not these days.
In his playing days, he'd been a team guy. It was the only way to win and winning was important to him. Now, he was the chess master; he made the decisions and called all the moves. At least until Louie had walked into his life. She seemed to be the one handing out the orders.
Except … he hadn't exactly followed her directions. He'd gone to his car all right, but he hadn't left for the arena or home. Instead, he'd parked about a block away from Louie's office and waited. When she'd left, so did he, a discreet distance behind her. For the first time ever, he was tailing someone. A little James Bond in an SUV, though not quite as suave or cool as Bond.
He'd expected her to go home or perhaps visit one or two of Jamie's favorite haunts to try and get a bead on him. If he was the hunter, that's what he would done. Of course he wasn't the hunter, and once again his expectations were way off base. The rehabilitation facility she disappeared into raised his interest level to all an all time high. What or who was inside the low brick building?
When Louie had reappeared a little under an hour later, the pain on her face was all too clear even under the harsh glow of the parking lot lights. Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested on them. The confidence and the bravado he'd witnessed thus far was nowhere to be seen. A curious turn of events.
Once he followed
Similar Books
