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Hard Core Law
Angi Morgan
HE’D BREAK THE LAW TO GET HIS KIDS BACKThe twins were all Josh Parker had in this world. So when they were kidnapped, he couldn’t rely on his Texas Rangers star to get them back safely. Or involve Tracey Cassidy, the only person he trusted to care for his children. A family of criminals were asking him to break the law if he ever wanted to see his children again. But when Tracey caught wind of his plan, she knew no matter how big Josh’s heart was, he had a future with his twins to look forward to. They needed their father. And this was one burden he wouldn’t have to shoulder alone.
The words seemed final somehow. As if Josh had accepted something was about to happen and there was no going back.
He removed her hands and crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head to stare at the top of hers because she was frightened to meet his hazel eyes. Frightened of the desperation she might see there.
“I made you the guardian of the twins last year.”
“Without asking me?”
“Yeah. I was afraid you’d say no.” Josh shrugged and lifted the corner of his mouth in a little smile. “You asked what I was willing to do. They’re my kids, Tracey. I’ll do anything for them, including prison time.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
“Nothing. You can’t be involved in this. It has to be me.” She believed him. She had to. But she couldn’t promise to stay out of his way. She meant what she’d said about doing anything for Jackson and Sage. And if that meant she was the one who went to jail … so be it.
Hard Core Law
Angi Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon Intrigue novels where honor and danger collide with love. Her work is a multiple contest finalist, RWA Golden Heart
Award winner and Publishers Weekly bestseller. When not fostering Labradors, she drags her dogs—and husband—around Texas for research road trips so she can write off her camera. See her photos on bit.ly/aPicADay. Somehow, every detour makes it into a book. She loves to hear from fans at www.angimorgan.com (http://www.angimorgan.com) or on Facebook at Angi Morgan Books.
There is never a book without my pals Jan, Robin, Jen, Lizbeth and Janie. Lena Diaz, thanks for the brilliant ideas and personal information you shared about raising a child with diabetes. Tim … I love you, man!
Contents
Cover (#u4037de1e-cd87-5761-9fca-5f51b9bc4d2b)
Introduction (#uaea3f2b0-aebc-507f-a78b-01ac64c77d73)
Title Page (#u5d47cdd6-2961-59e9-8c37-4337e4dfe82a)
About the Author (#u48221de8-aac4-5826-bd82-21ef377aaa64)
Dedication (#ua1b0bba7-466b-5dcb-9636-dbdf5fd7e247)
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u036ced62-b3a0-54f6-a888-893161662159)
“It was great to meet you. Night.” The last of the birthday guests waved from their cars.
Tracey Cassidy stood at the front door waving goodbye to another couple she barely knew. Two sets of little arms stretched around her thighs, squeezing with an appropriate four-and-a-half-year-old grunt.
“What are you two doing up? I tucked you in three hours ago.”
“Happy birthday,” they said in unison.
Jackson and Sage giggled until the sound of a dish breaking in the kitchen jerked them from their merriment. Their faces, so similar but different, held the same surprise and knowledge that their daddy was in super big trouble.
“Daddy’s going to get it now.” Sage nodded until her auburn curls bounced.
“Hurry.” Tracey patted them on the backsides and pointed them in the right direction. “Back upstairs before the Major has to scoop you up there himself. You know you’ll have extra chores if he catches you down here.”
The twins took each stair with a giant tiptoeing motion. It would have been hilarious to watch them, but their dad was getting a bit louder and might come looking for her to help.
“Scoot, and there’s sprinkles on Friday’s ice-cream cone.”
Bribery worked. They ran as fast as their short legs could carry them up the carpeted staircase. Tracey was sure their dad heard the bedroom door close. Then again, he was making enough noise to wake the barn cats.
“Tracey!” he finally yelled, seeking help. “Where’s the dustpan?”
Hurrying to the back of the house, she found Major Josh Parker holding several pieces of broken glass in one hand and the broom in the other. A juggler holding his act. Yep, that’s what he looked like. He was still completely out of his element in the kitchen. Or the laundry. Good thing he had a maid.
“It should have been in the closet with the broom. Here, let me take these.” She reached for the pieces of crystal covered in the remnants of spinach artichoke dip.
“I’m good.” He raised the mess out of her reach. “Sorry about the bowl. I thought I was actually helping for once. Damn thing slipped right out of my hand.”
“Here, just put it in this.” She pulled the covered trash can over to the mess and popped the lid open.
“Hell, Tracey, you don’t have your shoes on. This thing splintered into a thousand pieces.”
Two forbidden words in one conversation? She’d never seen Josh even the little tiniest bit tipsy. But the group had toasted a lot tonight. First her birthday, then an engagement, then to another couple who’d looked at each other like lovebirds. Then to her birthday again.
“Are you a little drunk?” She ignored his warning and crossed the kitchen to look for the dustpan, which was hanging on the wall of the pantry exactly where it should have been. She turned to tell Josh and walked straight into his chest.
“Well, would you look at that.” He cocked his head to the side emphasizing his boyish dimple. “If it had been a snake it would have bitten me.”
“Bitten a big chunk right out of your shoulder.” She tapped him with the corner for emphasis, but he still didn’t back up out of the doorway.
Josh leaned his forehead against the wood and exhaled a long “whew” sound. The smell of whiskey was strong. He had definitely drunk a little more than she’d ever witnessed. Maybe a little more than he should have. But he’d also been enjoying the company of his friends. Something long overdue. Most of his free time was spent with the twins.
“We need a cardboard box or something. This stuff—” He brought the glass from his side to his chest. “It’ll bust through plastic.”
His head dropped to the door frame and he closed his eyes. This time he relinquished the broken glass to her and backed up with some guidance. She helped him to the table, set a cold bottle of water in front of him and went about cleaning the floor.
Technically, it wasn’t her job. She was officially off duty because Josh was home. But she couldn’t leave him with his head on the kitchen table and glass all over the place. The kids would get up at their normal time, even if it was a Saturday. And the maid service wouldn’t stop back around until Tuesday.
“The way you look right now, this mess might still be here after school Monday.”
She moved around the edge of the tiled kitchen avoiding as much of the mess as she could. He was right about one thing, glass was everywhere. She retrieved her sandals from the living room next to the couch. She’d kicked them off while watching the men in Josh’s company interact with one another.
The wives hadn’t meant to exclude her, but she wasn’t one of them. She was the hired help. The nanny. She detested that word and told those who needed to know that she was the child care provider. In between a few bits of conversation, she silently celebrated in the corner. Not just her birthday, but also the achievement of receiving her PhD.
I need to tell him.
She pulled her sandals from where they’d crept under the couch and slipped them on her feet.
“They weren’t very...approachable tonight, were they.” A statement. Josh didn’t seem to need an answer. One hand scrubbed at his face, while the other held a depleted water bottle. “Sorry ’bout this.”
“Hey, nothing to be sorry for. The cake was out of this world.”
“Vivian ordered it.”
“Yeah, I was sorry she couldn’t stay.” Josh’s receptionist had done her best to keep Tracey involved in the conversations. “Would you sit down before you fall down?”
“I’m not drunk. Just real tired. We’ve been working a lot, you know.”
“I do. I’ve been spending way too many nights here. The neighbors are going to start talking.”
“Let ’em.” He grinned and let his head drop to the back of the couch cushions. “They can whinny all they want. And moo. Or just howl at the moon. I might even join ’em.”
“I think you need a dog to howl.”
Josh’s closest neighbor was about three miles away. He did have several horses, three barn cats and let JimBob Watts run cattle on their adjoining field. No one was really going to know if she was there all night or not.
No one but them.
They’d become lax about it recently. Whatever case the Texas Rangers were working on had been keeping him at Company F Headquarters in Waco. The case would soon be over—at least their part in it. She’d gathered that info from one or two of those whiskey toasts.
Tracey looked around the room. Plastic cups, paper plates with icing, napkins, forks. How could ten people make such a mess? A couple of the women had tried to offer their help, but everyone had seemed to leave at the same time.
Of course, the man now asleep on the couch, might have mentioned it was late. And if she worked in his office, she might misinterpret that as an order to get out. Tracey sighed and picked up a trash bag. What did one more late night matter?
Not like she had any reason to rush back to her campus apartment. She dropped two plastic cups into the bag and continued making her way around the room. She might as well clean up a little. It was mostly throwaway stuff and it wasn’t fair to make the twins help their dad.
After all, it had been her birthday party.
Josh had his hands full just keeping up with the twins. The floor would be horrible by Tuesday if she didn’t pass a mop across it. So she cleaned the floors and stored the cake—not to mention put the whiskey bottle above the refrigerator. On the second pass through the living room, she took a throw from the storage ottoman and covered her boss.
It might be triple-digit weather outside, but Josh kept the downstairs like a freezer. She draped the light blanket across him and his hand latched on to hers.
* * *
JOSH SHOULD BE ashamed of himself for letting Tracey clean up while he faked sleep. Should be. He wasn’t drunk. Far from it. He was hyperaware of every one of Tracey’s movements.
“Tonight didn’t go exactly like I planned.”
“Oh shoot. I don’t know why you scared me, but I thought you were asleep. It was fun. A total surprise.” She placed her hand on top of his, patting it as if she was ready to be let loose. She also didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’d never intentionally hurt his feelings.
But Josh had to hold on. If he let her go, he might not ever get the courage again. “You’re lying. You were miserable. I should have invited your friends.”
“It was great. Really.” She patted his hand again. “I better head out.”
