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Man Of The Family
Leigh Riker
His children will always come firstGriffin Lattimer has reinvented himself. He's gone from TV news anchor to single father, managing a Florida apartment complex so he can spend more time with his kids, making them the center of his life. And then Sunny Donovan has the gall to accuse his daughter of stealing. It's ridiculous, and Griffin refuses to listen…until he realizes the beautiful lawyer is telling the truth. She isn't letting him or his child off the hook, either, and they begin to recognize the tough love for what it is: she cares. She also makes it clear she can't stay. If Sunny goes back to New York, his kids will be heartbroken. And they won't be the only ones…
His children will always come first
Griffin Lattimer has reinvented himself. He’s gone from TV news anchor to single father, managing a Florida apartment complex so he can spend more time with his kids, making them the center of his life. And then Sunny Donovan has the gall to accuse his daughter of stealing. It’s ridiculous, and Griffin refuses to listen…until he realizes the beautiful lawyer is telling the truth. She isn’t letting him or his child off the hook, either, and they begin to recognize the tough love for what it is: she cares. She also makes it clear she can’t stay. If Sunny goes back to New York, his kids will be heartbroken. And they won’t be the only ones…
Before he could tell himself not to, Griffin stopped her.
“Thanks,” he said at last. “I’m glad Amanda apologized. You were right. She did take your watch.”
Sunny half smiled. “And you didn’t let her get away with it.”
He shouldn’t care that she sounded proud of him. He shouldn’t be staring at that little uptilt at the corner of her mouth. “So what am I missing?” he asked, because nothing involving his daughter was simple these days. “Did she even sound sincere?”
“She…tried.” Sunny hesitated. “But you didn’t welcome my interference before, and I doubt you’ve changed your mind. I’m out of the advice-giving business.”
Ouch. Forcing his gaze away from her, he noticed the growing darkness. The sun had slipped lower in the sky and the colors had bled into a deeper shade of almost burgundy. “I’m impressed, Counselor. Didn’t imagine you’d give up that easily.”
“I have my moments.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_2c469c55-2ed8-53d8-b938-66cda5acb097),
One of the things I like most about writing is motivation. Without it I’d spend my days staring out my office window (always a temptation!). Deadlines sure make good motivation for authors <grin>. But I’m talking here about characters and their histories.
In Man of the Family, something traumatic happened long ago to my heroine, Sunny Donovan, and she is now on a crusade to help other girls avoid the same fate. Griffin Lattimer, my hero, was quite young when he lost his dad, and that has made him responsible to a fault.
Now Griffin is trying to find his long-missing wife and protect his kids from further hurt. The last thing he needs is to fall for Sunny. Why would a driven New York attorney stay with Griffin, the manager of a Florida apartment complex?
But love has been missing from his and Sunny’s lives for too long. Can they find true happiness with each other in a family of their own? Start reading to find out!
All the best,
Leigh
Man of the Family
Leigh Riker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEIGH RIKER, like many readers and writers, grew up with her nose in a book. To this day she can’t imagine a better way to spend time than curling up with a good romance novel—unless it is to write one! When she’s not in her home office on a small mountain in the Southeast, this Ohio native is probably traveling. For research purposes, of course. With added inspiration from her mischievous Maine coon cat, she is now at work on a new novel. You can find Leigh on Facebook at LeighRikerBooks (https://www.facebook.com/LeighRikerAuthor) and on Twitter, @lbrwriter (https://twitter.com/lbrwriter).
To the other members of CARA
(Chattanooga Area Romance Authors):
Kelle, Laurie, Nita, Cheryel and Carol.
Thanks for the friendship, the lunches and
the meetings filled with talk—yes,
about writing, too. What a great group!
Contents
Cover (#u6322dcaf-36e8-52a7-8b28-de72b8cbf0e7)
Back Cover Text (#u335c42aa-6b33-516c-aa5a-2546a335778f)
Introduction (#uedd48742-8251-51a5-bcca-99c85fa0ef57)
Dear Reader (#ua5acc7f7-52c2-5181-a681-35034f7779ad)
Title Page (#u55124d72-146f-50e8-aca1-d00b8544befd)
About the Author (#ubcb28148-d5b6-530f-83d8-3ffae209f451)
Dedication (#uf02fff9e-bf29-5dde-a303-5a65e2384c47)
CHAPTER ONE (#ufdbbe15f-334a-558e-a6c4-d7ef480ae828)
CHAPTER TWO (#u42e4250d-9dde-5b30-ba36-948856619ef0)
CHAPTER THREE (#u53e7abd7-cc2c-5ed6-963d-54e10738c4fa)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u74a3d578-f531-574e-9d75-4e8330033dc4)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ue6398ed3-317e-53a1-9e90-efa2acc0113a)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_963eec02-f72b-5760-917c-992dd3ebece3)
SUNSHINE DONOVAN STILL trusted in the simple things—today’s weather report, for example. She should have known better.
Sunny had just left the Jacksonville airport—with the car radio blaring a bright afternoon forecast—when the leaden skies opened up. A torrent of semitropical rain spilled over the windshield, reminding her again of a recent tabloid headline.
Sunny Clouds Up.
Oh, you’d better believe it. Only yesterday, in a Manhattan court, in front of her favorite judge, Sunny had blown up. She’d gotten a contempt citation for her momentary loss of control, but the jury’s ruling really had been the last straw.
She was still as mad as blue blazes, even though she felt like a sun hat someone had left in the rain.
The disastrous trial verdict and a brand-new divorce decree weren’t the end of the world, if she took the longer view. But her life right now could be summed up in another too-cute banner from the New York papers.
Defense Rains on Sunny’s Parade.
If only the jury hadn’t, too.
Pulling into her parents’ suburban driveway a short while later, Sunny decided she deserved a rest. Coming back to Jacksonville was never easy, and this time, thanks to Nate’s official exit from their marriage, she was alone.
Prosecutors lost cases all the time, she reminded herself, but she still couldn’t believe the jury had bought the defense’s claim that their client was crazy when he’d killed an innocent girl. She could still hear his threats. Keep looking over your shoulder, Donovan. One dayI’ll be there.
Sunny had heard such threats before. When she went back to New York, she’d no doubt hear them again, but she was determined to overcome this blot on her win/loss record. If she wanted to become DA, she’d have to.
And someday, she’d be able to think about the end of her marriage without wanting to cry. Even if, as Nate had always said, Sunny tended to wear her heart on her sleeve.
“Sunny?”
As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, her mother—a blur of flowered print shorts and top—swept her into a hug.
“We didn’t expect you until tonight,” she said, patting her hair back into place. It was even lighter than Sunny remembered, shot through with strands of silver. “Why didn’t you call? Dad planned to meet you at the airport.” She drew back to study Sunny from head to toe, and Sunny knew her mom wouldn’t miss the limp hair that hadn’t been combed all day, a rumpled suit and the laddered run in her pantyhose.
“Quite a mess, huh?” She forced a smile. “I caught an earlier plane. Staying in Manhattan for even a few more hours lacked—not to make a pun—appeal.” All she’d wanted was to flee, as if she were the guilty one, rather than Wallace Day.
Her mother’s blue gaze was probing. “Tell me everything.”
Sunny drew a sharp breath. “Mom. I can’t. Not yet.”
As if to save her, the back door opened. Her dad saw her and broke into a grin. Smile lines radiated from the corners of his brown eyes. “Hey there, Sunshine.”
He was still solid, tall and straight with the same brown hair that showed barely any gray. Still her hero.
Without hesitation she launched herself into his arms. Enfolded, cherished, she was still his girl. She loved her mother, too, but things often grew complicated between them. With her dad she always knew where she stood. He’d taught her to throw a baseball and to swim. He’d hugged her tight when she lost her first boyfriend. She never doubted he would see her side about the trial and Nate.
“Welcome home. How long has it been this time?” he asked.
“Too long. Last Christmas,” she said, “when you and Mom came to visit.”
“And, as usual, hated every second—”
“—in what you always refer to as The City.” On the verge of separation from Nate, Sunny had pretended everything was fine. “I think you were right years ago about me moving north,” she said. “Life in the fast lane doesn’t seem so exciting at the moment.”
His hold tightened, but he didn’t say I warned you.
“And can you believe that jury?” her mother said. “That dreadful man...”
Her dad shook his head. “If I were that poor girl’s father—”
“You’re not, thank goodness,” Sunny said, then slipped from his embrace. “But I know how you feel. I can’t stop thinking about Ana Ramirez’s sweet face. At least Wallace Day will be confined to a facility in upper New York State to undergo treatment for his ‘problem.’”
“Problem? He’s a killer.”
“That’s why he’ll stay there until—unless—a psychiatric review board decides he’s no longer a threat to society.”
Her father frowned. “He’ll also be eating three meals a day, watching TV, lifting weights, and sleeping in a clean bed. That child’s parents probably don’t sleep at all. She has no life.”
Sunny was glad he’d spoken out.
“What can I say? Wallace Day beat the system, even though an insanity defense usually doesn’t play well with a jury.” She frowned. “I still don’t think Day is insane.” And yet he had threatened her after his victory. How sane was that?
Maybe I didn’t do my job well enough.
But her mother was done with that subject. “And when I think how we welcomed Nate with open arms,” she tried again.
“Not now, Kate.” Sunny’s dad steered her from the kitchen toward the stairs. On the way he scooped up her suitcase.
“Where are you going?” Her mother’s brittle tone spoke volumes. “Have you forgotten? The upstairs is a disaster area. That hurricane a few weeks ago tore off part of our roof, Sunny—the part over your old room.”
Sunny sighed. She’d been looking forward to a long nap there before dinner.
“The whole back part of the house is under tarps right now. It still leaks when it rains. And for who knows how long? It was the last straw for me,” her mother murmured.
“I’ve called every contractor in town,” her father said, his voice tight. “Sunny won’t mind sleeping in my den. Will you, Sunshine?”
“Jack, that sofa bed is like sleeping on nails.”
