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Husband by Choice
Tara Taylor Quinn
LOVE RUNS FREEMeredith Bennet lives for two people-her husband, Max, and their young son, Caleb. She also lives in fear of her abusive ex-husband, Steve, a man she's been running from for years. She thought she'd finally eluded him. But when it becomes apparent that he's found her, she makes a drastic decision. She goes on the run again-by herself-to protect the two people she loves most. Meredith finds solace and safety in a new identity at The Lemonade Stand, a unique women's shelter. With Steve on the hunt for her and Max desperate to get his wife back, she will discover if love really is stronger than evil.
Love runs free
Meredith Bennet lives for two people—her husband, Max, and their young son, Caleb. She also lives in fear of her abusive ex-husband, Steve, a man she’s been running from for years. She thought she’d finally eluded him. But when it becomes apparent that he’s found her, she makes a drastic decision. She goes on the run again—by herself—to protect the two people she loves most.
Meredith finds solace and safety in a new identity at The Lemonade Stand, a unique women’s shelter. With Steve on the hunt for her and Max desperate to get his wife back, she will discover if love really is stronger than evil.
“Meredith’s ex-husband was a fiend,” Max said softly.
He spoke as though two-year-old Caleb might hear and understand what Max was saying.
“He brutalized her,” Max went on. “And got away with it because of the power his position gave him. I gather he had a pretty impressive record with the Las Vegas police. I know he was older than her. Her family—both parents and a brother—were killed in a car accident when Meri was a kid. She was alone in the world. She married him at eighteen, and the first time he hit her was less than a year later. She stayed with him nine years.”
He would’ve felt disloyal telling Meri’s secrets if Chantel had been just a friend. But she was a cop. And would help him find Meri.
“It took Steve less than three months to track her down the first time she left. He was still a Las Vegas detective back then. She got away almost immediately and managed to elude him for about a year that second time.”
“This guy’s determined.” Chantel sounded serious. All cop. And Max took his first easy breath in more than twenty-four hours.
Hold on, Meri.
Help is on the way.
Dear Reader (#ulink_5b3a7d78-572a-5b0d-af3b-661e5745f473),
Sometimes circumstances trap us in situations that defy logical solutions. The “right” things have all been tried. They’ve all failed. And the human spirit—hope—suffers.
But, always, there is a force that’s stronger than logic. Stronger than anything the human mind can conjure up. That force resides in the human spirit; it’s there, waiting to spring into action. All it needs is for us to let it go—to set it free to work.
And, always, one of the hardest things to do is give in to the intangible, the often illogical something inside us—to trust it and follow its dictates. Sometimes we lose hope and settle for a situation that isn’t ideal.
Sometimes, though, trusting that far-too-quiet inner voice is the only way we’ll survive.
Husband by Choice is the story of one such situation. And the woman who thought herself weak, but who’s actually strong enough to listen to her heart, to act on the instinct inside her even though it drives her straight into danger. This story is fiction. I don’t recommend that any woman face violence on her own. I do, however, fully embrace every woman’s right to live by her heart. To fight for that right. And to know ultimate joy.
May we all be a part of the sisterhood shared by the special women who come and go at The Lemonade Stand!
I love to hear from my readers. Please connect with me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, visit me at www.tarataylorquinn.com (http://www.tarataylorquinn.com) or write to staff@tarataylorquinn.com.
Tara Taylor Quinn
Husband by Choice
Tara Taylor Quinn
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_54688976-bc3f-5971-8445-a7cecc47dfa8)
With sixty-eight original novels, published in more than twenty languages, TARA TAYLOR QUINN is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She is a winner of the 2008 National Reader’s Choice Award, four-time finalist for an RWA RITA® Award, a finalist for the Reviewer’s Choice Award, the Bookseller’s Best Award and the Holt Medallion, and appears regularly on Amazon bestseller lists. Tara Taylor Quinn is a past president of Romance Writers of America and served for eight years on its board of directors. She is in demand as a public speaker and has appeared on television and radio shows across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning. Tara is a spokesperson for the National Domestic Violence Hotline, and she and her husband, Tim, sponsor an annual in-line skating race in Phoenix to benefit the fight against domestic violence.
When she’s not at home in Arizona with Tim and their canine owners, Jerry Lee and Taylor Marie, or fulfilling speaking engagements, Tara spends her time traveling and in-line skating.
For Adam. I pray that you are, now and forever, my daughter’s “Max.”
Contents
Cover (#uf46d7130-17df-5e1f-a35e-f4108d7055fd)
Back Cover Text (#u16dd7867-86b8-566c-be59-baf2016718cf)
Introduction (#ub57b6a2d-6abe-59e6-86ae-b3c442020bd0)
Dear Reader (#ulink_f8595ed9-29a1-520e-a555-757a118a6c37)
Title Page (#ua741550c-ea1d-5b48-8d4b-a9d93b61abaa)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_60e1631e-614c-5976-a450-158f2092cbd7)
Dedication (#u00919a7e-7be1-5781-bc2e-834096bb07ba)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e7909f1e-ee51-5281-99ee-d11adb9dbaa2)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6a83f8f3-e929-54f9-88f9-e24b48ad4faf)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_52d1f692-c939-558a-a992-b1f23fa6fdd0)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1d289631-901b-5400-a716-868add900334)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_201dbe7f-f524-5f09-b1d6-92cfd7c91dcb)
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_6061eee6-3692-53d9-919d-b3660b046bc2)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_1772416c-95bb-580b-bfa2-256989544bfe)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_880bf691-a3c7-526d-bc76-e08accf8fb5f)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ee5276ec-d8d4-5d34-a492-8baf0f059ae5)
“SHA SHA, MAMA. Sha sha! Geen, Go! Geen, Go!”
Easing her foot slowly off the brake as the traffic signal turned from red to green, Meredith Smith Bennet tuned out Caleb’s chatter because she had to.
And took comfort from it at the same time. The blond-haired toddler, strapped into his car seat behind her, kicked his feet repeatedly with glee. Sha sha—French fries. That was all it took for him to be happy. The anticipation of a French fry.
With a glance in the rearview mirror, keeping the small green car four vehicles back in the other lane in sight, she turned left at the familiar Santa Raquel corner.
“Sha sha, Mama! Sha sha!”
She’d promised Caleb French fries at his favorite fast food place—a treat on the one day a week he had to spend an afternoon at day care—and he’d had his eye on the Golden Arches where they’d been heading before she’d been forced to turn off the main drag.
“Sha shaaaaa!”
Instead of excitement, she heard the beginning of tears in his voice as the arches disappeared from view. The green car had made an illegal right turn, cutting off another vehicle to cross over two lanes.
“I know, Caleb,” she said. Her son was not going to suffer. Or know fear. Not by her hand. “In a minute,” she said, keeping her voice light and cheerful—her husband’s description of her “mommy” voice. A voice he was certain he’d never tire of hearing.
But he’d also been certain that Steve was in the past.
“Mama’s going a different way,” she continued, changing lanes without a signal and making a quick left turn the second she saw the chance.
As luck would have it, she was able to cross three lanes and make a right and then another left turn before the not new, not old, not big and not particularly small green car with the black-haired man behind the wheel could follow.
She’d lost him.
For now.
* * *
PEDIATRICIAN MAX BENNET was finishing up his afternoon’s charting, listening to the chatter of the front office staff in the clinic he shared with several other family physicians. His private cell phone buzzed at his hip.
Last he’d spoken to his wife, she’d been leaving to take Caleb for French fries on his way to day care. But Meri knew his last patient, a four-year-old needing a well-check, had been at three. She probably needed him to stop for milk on the way home. Or vanilla wafers. Caleb was addicted to them. And since they were the only sweets the little guy was allowed....
The caller wasn’t his wife of three years. It was Caleb’s day care.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Dr. Bennet, but Mrs. Bennet isn’t here yet and Caleb’s not happy. He’s been upset since she dropped him off, but it’s gotten steadily worse. He’s crying so hard he just threw up.”
He and Meredith had disagreed on the whole day care thing. He’d thought it was important that Max be integrated. She’d wanted to keep the toddler with her or a private sitter.
She was paranoid about safety. With good reason.
But Caleb had grown too attached to them—the separation anxiety he was experiencing was, in part, their fault.
They couldn’t let Meri’s fears paralyze their son.
“It’s three-forty-five,” he said, glancing at the clock on his wall—a Seth Thomas he and Meri had purchased together at a little shop in Carmel. “What time did she say she’d be back?”
“Technically she’s not due until four but when he was so upset at her leaving, she said she’d be back by three.”
It got earlier every week. “What time did she drop him off?”
“One.”
They’d gone from one full day a week to one half day. And now it was down to two hours?
Still, it wasn’t like Meri to be late collecting their son. Ever.
“Mrs. Bennet had a client this afternoon,” he told the woman on the phone. “I suspect she ran over. I’ll be done here in another fifteen minutes or so and will stop by there on my way home. If she shows up in the meantime, have her wait for me, will you?”
They’d have to talk about increasing Caleb’s time at day care again. Later. Maybe over a glass of wine. When Meri was relaxed.
