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A Cop's Honor
Emilie Rose
She’d vowed to never trust him again…now he was her only hopeAs a single mom Hannah Leith faces challenges daily—and deals with them. But when her son gets into serious trouble she's out of her league and turns to the man she blames for her police husband’s death, Brandon Martin.Brandon still carries the guilt of his partner’s murder, which only grows heavier when he finds himself growing closer to Hannah and her children. But he’d promised to take care of the man’s family and that is what he will do, even if it means ignoring his own yearning for Hannah.
She’d vowed to never trust him again...now he was her only hope
As a single mom Hannah Leith faces challenges daily—and deals with them. But when her son gets into serious trouble she’s out of her league and turns to the man she blames for her police husband’s death, Brandon Martin.
Brandon still carries the guilt of his partner’s murder, which only grows heavier when he finds himself growing closer to Hannah and her children. But he’d promised to take care of the man’s family and that is what he will do, even if it means ignoring his own yearning for Hannah.
USA TODAY bestselling author and two-time RITA® Award finalist EMILIE ROSE lives in North Carolina with her own romance hero. Writing is her third career. She’s managed a medical office and a home day care—neither offered half as much satisfaction as plotting happy endings. Her hobbies include gardening, fishing, cooking and traveling to find her next book setting. Visit her website, emilierose.com (http://www.emilierose.com), or email her at EmilieRoseAuthor@aol.com.
Also By Emilie Rose (#uf02f770c-629a-511e-973b-54b2167a9257)
The Lottery Winner
Second Chance Mom
Starting with June
The Secrets of Her Past
A Better Man
The Ties that Bind
The Price of Honor
Her Tycoon to Tame
Wedding His Takeover Target
Executive’s Pregnancy Ultimatum
His High-Stakes Holiday Seduction
Bedding the Secret Heiress
More Than a Millionaire
Bargained Into Her Boss’s Bed
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A Cop’s Honor
Emilie Rose
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08105-4
A COP’S HONOR
© 2018 Emilie Rose Riddle
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Brandon...I think it would be best if you didn’t come around anymore.”
A line formed between his eyebrows. She opened the door and when he didn’t take the hint to leave, she stepped onto the porch and waited for him to follow, then closed the panel behind them.
“Belle already loves you. Mason is getting attached. It’s going to hurt them when you disappear. Lingering will only make it worse.”
“Who says I’ll disappear?”
“Me. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I can’t forget...the past or how dangerous your job is.”
His jaw and shoulder muscles bunched. “I promised Rick I’d look out for you.”
“I’m relieving you of that promise.”
He inhaled, long and slow, filling his chest and making it seem even broader. Then he dipped his chin once, sharply. “Take care of yourself, Hannah.”
He pivoted and walked away. Seconds later his truck engine started. Tension drained from her. It left her empty. She walked back inside and locked the door. The engaging dead bolt sounded a lot like a gunshot echoing off the foyer walls. Cutting Brandon from their lives was the right thing to do. For her sake and her children’s.
Dear Reader (#uf02f770c-629a-511e-973b-54b2167a9257),
Sometimes life throws you curveballs. When it does, you have to find the courage to forge a new path—often one you’ve never contemplated before. That’s what happens to Hannah Leith when all her plans and dreams are buried with her husband. For her children’s sake, she must find the courage to start over. But she never anticipated that new beginning would include the man she held responsible for her husband’s death.
As for Brandon Martin, police officer, he never expected to use his investigative skills for his dead best friend’s son. He definitely didn’t foresee being physically attracted to his friend’s widow or suddenly wanting her to become his wife.
I hope you enjoy Hannah and Brandon’s attempts to deny the inevitable.
Emilie Rose
For my dad.
Parkinson’s took his mobility, his speech and his life, but it never took his sense of humor or his kindness.
He’ll always be my hero.
Contents
Cover (#ue174de48-f69b-5251-a199-a37c7ab777cc)
Back Cover Text (#u161a8e2e-5505-5a21-9f14-7c2073b10ab1)
About the Author (#u0f928dd4-595b-5650-90d2-9dc248bf6404)
Booklist (#u8f922c60-02cf-5b06-84da-98c80bd88045)
Title Page (#u526f1bc3-73e5-5563-9218-2c19da078b24)
Copyright (#u60d58679-850f-5331-bf9a-3d1adf80537e)
Introduction (#u0141e672-0337-5088-a982-03a14b0157b3)
Dear Reader (#ue69fa0ed-b620-5a99-b605-81088d8d65e8)
Dedication (#u8d19044e-9db8-5284-8a58-8ebd29659692)
Chapter One (#ub1dc2cb2-3d3a-5a6a-8e34-2807591669ef)
Chapter Two (#u3b111eab-7771-575a-bde1-4dde79bf090b)
Chapter Three (#u38b9cab5-28f4-5fef-a0c2-dcbaf7f9af36)
Chapter Four (#u38b3b0f2-77ed-5445-9e75-967f7d11898f)
Chapter Five (#u41302f1a-3670-53e3-bc4a-ded2b07a837e)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uf02f770c-629a-511e-973b-54b2167a9257)
HANNAH SANK DEEPER into her Adirondack chair and stretched out her legs. Her foot bumped the empty fire pit, and a few flakes of rust rained onto her ankles. She shifted again, hoping to find a more comfortable position on the hard seat. Her fingertips brushed across the chair’s peeling paint and a sense of futility rose within her.
The furniture and fire pit, like everything else around the house behind her, needed work. A lot of work. More than she could handle or afford, yet she was tackling it one project at a time. But sometimes she felt like a hamster on a wheel, spinning ’round and ’round and getting nowhere.
The old house was home—the first real home she’d ever had. Not that the places she and her parents had lived as her father climbed the army’s noncommissioned officer ranks had been bad, but they’d all been temporary. She hadn’t been free to paint or make any changes in the rented accommodations. And she had never, ever put down roots until she and Rick had bought this fixer-upper.
Rick. She closed her eyes and let the loss roll over her. Five years ago today he’d been taken from her. His death had robbed them of so many future plans as a family, and it had jeopardized their dream of turning this old house into the kind of home their children would remember fondly and always return to. She was trying to hold on to it, but life seemed determined to undermine that goal.
She took a deep breath of humid, hyacinth-and lilac-scented April air and tilted her head to stare at the full moon hanging like a fat beacon in the sky between towering oaks. A gentle breeze swayed the budding branches framing the orb. She pressed her bare soles against the still-warm brick pavers and endeavored to follow the advice she gave clients every day.
Inhale deeply to the count of ten, then exhale slowly. Release the tension by relaxing each muscle group sequentially: her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her shoulders. Knots loosened. Her pulse slowed and her grief settled back to a bearable level.
The click of the back door latch halted her progress. She’d thought both kids asleep before she’d slipped out for a moment of peace. Twisting, she leaned to look around the high back of her chair. The door eased open. Mason stepped onto the deck. Guilt pinched. Was he looking for her?
She opened her mouth to ask what he needed then noticed his backpack and remained silent. Why was he carrying it at this time of night? Where was he planning on going? He turned the knob and silently pulled the door closed. An uneasiness pricked through her. The feeling amplified when he furtively glanced around then tiptoed down the steps, carefully avoiding the squeaky middle tread. He turned for the side gate and clicked on a flashlight.
He wasn’t looking for her. Concern turned into alarm. “Mason, where do you think you’re going?”
He jumped, dropping the flashlight with a clank. The beam flickered and died. “Mom! What are you doing out here?”
The dismay on his face and in his voice confirmed that finding her hadn’t been his objective. Her heart thumped hard and fast in her chest. She rose and crossed the yard. “The question is where are you going at ten o’clock? You should be sleeping. It’s a school night. Your bedtime was nine.”
The sound of crickets filled the air.
“Mason Brandon Leith! Answer me.”
His gaze skittered away. “I...um... I...was going to camp out in the treehouse.”
Lying and sneaking out. Anxiety dried her mouth. She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “The treehouse is that way.”
“I...um...was looking for frogs first.”
Another lie. “Inside. Now.”
“Mooooom,” he wailed.
“Move it!” What had turned her sweet, easygoing ten-year-old son into trouble looking for a place to happen? He’d been suspended twice from school in the past three months for making inappropriate comments to other students then to his teacher, and finally, for sassing the school principal. She knew middle school kids were supposed to be difficult, but she hadn’t expected sixth grade to change her little boy into someone she didn’t recognize.
