Abby Strickland has always had crush on Richard Braddock, her best friend’s father...her father’s best friend. With Richard’s divorce six years before, that crush turned to longing, longing to love. If only Richard knew. At Melanie Braddock’s wedding, Abby decides it’s time to get this out of her system. No matter how forbidden, Abby knows she’ll regret it more if she never tries.
Richard Braddock hasn’t seen Abby Strickland in six years, and he blesses the distance those years have given him. Not only can he see the beauty in the woman she’s become, he can also fully appreciate it...and want her more than he’s ever wanted a woman. And while Richard knows he risks the wrath of their families if he acts on his feelings, he also knows he cannot resist a taste of forbidden fruit this sweet.
EXCERPT
Abby Strickland wiped her sweaty palms over her sundress,
trusting the dark tropical print to hide the evidence of how nervous she was.
She doubted the periwinkle blue silk she’d selected for the wedding tomorrow
would be as forgiving. Hopefully by then her nerves would have calmed. The
initial reunion and the anticipation of seeing everyone would have
waned. Knowing that didn’t help her now.
Just thinking of seeing him after all these years was enough
to set her body thrumming. Abby could scarcely breathe without it coming out
all quivery. And the dampness in her hands was nothing compared to what was
between her legs.
I never should have come.
Now that she was here, Abby told herself she was foolish for
even considering acting on a teenage crush that had clearly exploded beyond
proportion. If the age difference wasn’t enough to throw cold water on her
libido, the long-term relationship between the two families should. Failing that,
her father and Richard were best friends. And still she wanted him, despite these
obstacles.
Abby had been sixteen when she’d noticed, really
noticed Richard Braddock was a devastatingly handsome man. Their families had
lived next to each other almost her whole life. But that summer day…
She swallowed hard against the memory. Puberty had her in
its clutches then. Her first hot make-out session outside the school gym
following a dance had awakened the seeds of passion. But it was seeing Richard
shirtless and sweaty two days later that had given Abby her first taste of
adult horny. She’d watched from her upstairs window as he stripped off his
shirt. Sweat glistened on the bronze planes of his sculpted chest. Abby had
longed even at that age to trace the angles and see if he was as hard as he
looked. A smattering of dark hair arrowed down from his pecs, thickening around
his belly button before disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Curiosity had conjured up images of what his cock might look
like. She’d never dared a glimpse of the pictures the older girls
surreptitiously giggled over during study hall. It had never mattered to
her…until that moment.
She’d passed a leisurely gaze over him, marveling at
perfection. He’d taken the garden hose and drenched himself. Abby had pulled
her bottom lip between her teeth. That spot between her legs throbbed. Of its
own volition, her hand found its way into her panties. She’d gasped with the
first touch of fingers to clit. She’d played with herself before, but it had
never felt this good.
His hair darkened under the water, merging the silver ends
with the dark brown undergrowth. Long fingers raked the strands apart while
Abby’s hand rubbed faster. She’d watched each flex of his muscles, wondering
what they’d feel like against her. She squeezed her breast with her free hand,
closed her eyes, then quivered under the impact of her first orgasm. The first
of many dreaming of him.
Abby laughed at herself while the muted sounds of the slot
machines filtered through her fog of lust. There was certainly no harm in
admiring him from afar.
Even as she told herself that, Abby knew how difficult it
was going to be. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a woman, with all the
desires and longings that went with that state.
Despite the odds against him even noticing her in a sexual
partner way, much less him wanting to act on that, Abby knew she had to at
least try. Better to have her ego deflated than to be an old woman regretting
she’d never tried.
Tell all that to the yellow streak wiggling down her back.
Sheer force of will kept her from chickening out. Besides, staying away might
have caused more questions than Abby was willing to deal with. Despite the
strained relationship that had developed between the Stricklands and the
Braddocks over the last six years, everyone still made a surface attempt to play
nice. That consideration had more to do with the fact that Richard Braddock
still worked at the same precinct with her father, not because Pam Braddock was
the next door neighbor.
Abby would never forget the last time she’d seen Richard—six
years ago when she and Melanie graduated from college. What was supposed to
have been a day of celebration quickly deteriorated into a nightmare. Shortly
after the families sat down to dinner at the Black Angus, Pam tossed down her
Scotch, glared at Richard, and demanded a divorce.
His blue eyes darkened as anger replaced his previous good
humor. Abby’s blood had chilled when he sliced a glare his wife’s way and
replied, “There’s a surprise. Your timing is impeccable. You couldn’t wait
until we’d gotten home. You just had to ruin this day, didn’t you?”
It was Pam who’d stormed away that night. Richard remained
and tried to put on a good face for his devastated daughter. But Abby could see
the pain, hurt, and regret deep in his eyes. All she’d wanted to do then was
hold him tight and make it better. All she’d wanted since then was…
Abby pulled in a shaky breath. She hadn’t seen Richard since
that night. He’d ridden home with them to get his truck, and had moved to a
hotel, and, subsequently, to his own apartment. Any interaction between him and
her father was on the job or well away from the house next door. She supposed
that was only fair since, according to her mother, Pam had a string of men in
and out of the place constantly. It wasn’t an environment conducive to children.
But then the Braddock girls were officially adults and out of the house at that
point.
As far as Richard was concerned, if he’d had any serious
lady friends, no one said anything to her about it. And that was fine with
Abby. The last thing she wanted to hear about were stories of Richard and
another woman. She wanted him.
Abby scolded herself yet again.
She shouldn’t be harboring the kinds of thoughts she was
about the man. God knew she’d tried to put this obsession out of her mind. But
the few men she’d dated had never lived up to her expectations. Each time,
she’d close her eyes and imagine it was Richard whose lips kneaded hers.
Richard whose warm hands flicked her nipples to life. Richard whose hard cock
pounded into her.
Abby fanned the heat from her face. Six years wasn’t an
eternity, but it was a long time. Richard would be fifty now, the same age as
her father. Surely he’d changed in that period of time. Seeing him once more
was just what she needed to snap her perspective back in place and move on with
her life. That wasn’t going to happen unless she got her feet to move forward
rather than stay parked outside the entrance to The Riviera’s all-you-can-eat
buffet.
She stretched on tiptoe and craned her neck for a peek over
the crowd inside. There was her mother—that red hair was hard to miss—and Pam
Braddock—equally obvious with her platinum hair piled up ala Ivana Trump.
Melanie was right beside her, looking more and more like a recreation of Pam.
Abby supposed that had a lot to do with the time the two of them spent
together. Pam had recently added “and Daughters” to the name of her real estate
business. Melanie worked there with both her sisters. As far as real estate
brokers went, they were a formidable team.
It looked like their party included about thirty people,
judging from the one side of the table Abby could see. There was no way to get
a look at the other side.
“Looking for me…I hope.”
A chill curled up her spine at the sound of Kevin Calloway’s
voice. Abby prayed it was a coincidence and that Melanie hadn’t had the gall to
invite the son of a bitch. She didn’t bother to feign a smile as she turned to
face him.
“Hardly. What are you doing here?”
Any insult was lost on him. He just gave her that dazzling
surfer boy smile that actually managed to dull his bleached hair. His brown
eyes were vacant, just like his head.
“I’m part of the wedding party. The main dude’s my bud.”
Abby translated that to mean he was a friend of the groom.
Melanie should have warned her, but then they’d drifted apart in the six months
Melanie had been dating Tommy. Still, she knew Kevin wasn’t one of Abby’s
favorite people. A little notice would have been nice. Not that it would have
kept her away, but she’d at least have been forewarned.
“Great place for a wedding, huh?”
Yes…Vegas…who would have thought. “Millions of people most
probably would agree.”
He chortled. Abby grimaced. Seven o’clock at night and he
already reeked of stale beer, cigarettes, body odor, and God knew what else.
The older he got, the farther backward he slipped on the evolutionary scale.
Any day now his knuckles would be scraping the ground.
“Ready to go in?” He waved his hand forward.
“Not with you,” she quickly replied. “The last thing I want
is for anyone to think we’re a couple.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Whatever flips your switch. I
know plenty of chicks just lining up to ride this board.” He grabbed his crotch
and gave it a shake.
The gesture made her physically ill. What she’d ever seen in
the guy remained a mystery to her. Well…maybe not so much a mystery. It had
been college. She was horny. He was cute and attentive. That lasted for all of
one date. But to hear Kevin tell the tale…
Abby shoved the thoughts away. She chalked it up to a lesson
learned long ago, but it still left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“I’d sure be willin’ to give you a lift for old times
sake…if you know what I’m sayin’.”
Unfortunately, she did. At least she managed to resist the
urge to tell him it wouldn’t be much of a rise.
Kevin snickered, then made a big show of brushing by her,
hips first, to get to the buffet entrance. The feel of his erection touching
her turned Abby’s stomach. She watched him strut inside, arms lifted high over
his head in a bellow of a greeting like the simian he was.
Putting some distance between their arrivals was probably a
good idea. Spying the ladies room, Abby decided it was as good a place as any
to kill some time.
* *
*
Richard Braddock stared at the entrance to the buffet. He’d
almost rather be facing down a felon with a loaded .38 than to be dealing with
this gathering. At least not today.
What he really wanted was a couple of cold beers and little
sanctuary from the world. The image of Marcy Tully’s blood-splattered body was
going to haunt him for a long time. She’d been shot to death while she was out
walking her dogs. And, naturally, no one saw a thing. Hopefully, evidence would
provide some clues. If it weren’t for Melanie’s wedding, Richard would have
still been at work hunting down leads. Now all he had to do was focus on trying
to enjoy himself. Not easy to do at an event that included his ex-wife.
Thankfully, Ron and Erin Strickland were here for moral
support. God love ’em for that. If anyone had reason not to be here, it was
them. They’d put up with Pam’s nonsense for the last six years while he was
safely tucked away in his tiny apartment as far from her as he could get.
Sometimes it wasn’t far enough.
He watched them from where he stood. Pam’s
boyfriend-of-the-moment draped himself over the back of her chair, poised on
every pearl that fell from her lips. At least this one looked like he had some
degree of intelligence. He was certainly dressed nicer—from what Richard could
see of his dark green pullover. It was something Richard or Ron would wear, not
like men had that big a selection when it came to clothes.
He glanced at Erin. Her smile looked like it had been frozen
there. Every so often she’d shoot a glance across the table—that had to be
where Ron sat. Somehow Pam had managed to keep the couple separate. All eyes
were on her…just the way she liked it.
So what surprises did she have in store for them this time?
He’d caught her in bed with two men the day of Georgia’s high school
graduation. Two days later, when Melanie graduated college, she’d dropped her
divorce bomb over dinner. The only regret there was that she’d beaten him to
the punch. Divorce was inevitable; infidelity made that a given. But he’d put
his daughters before him, intending their respective graduations to be happy
events, not days of personal disaster. Obviously, Pam wasn’t so inclined. And
at Cindy’s wedding the following year, she’d announced her plan to open her own
real estate business. Then she’d used the reception to drum up clients.
Despite all this, he was here. He’d never forgive himself
for missing Melanie’s wedding. He’d always been there for his girls. Divorce
wasn’t going to change that. He’d suck up a couple of days of Pam for them. He
just had to get through tonight and the wedding tomorrow, then he’d be home
free and clear…until the next family event. He prayed Georgia wasn’t planning
on getting married any time soon. Or if she was, they’d get more notice than
the two weeks Melanie had granted them.
He supposed he couldn’t complain. Melanie and Tommy had
opted for Las Vegas and to pay for things themselves. With a house payment and
alimony coming out of his pocket, the cost of a wedding would have hit hard.
“Oh well…here goes.”
Richard pushed out a quick exhale, then marched forward. Ron
lifted a wave and flashed him a relieved smile. That brought other heads
around. Richard scanned them all. Two faces were missing—Joanna and Abby
Strickland. Joanna he could understand—she’d just blessed Ron and Erin with
their first grandchild two months ago. But Abby?
A twinge of disappointment smacked him harder than he
expected. He shouldn’t be surprised. According to Erin, she and Melanie had
grown steadily apart over the last six years, more so since Melanie started
seeing Tommy. But they were still friends, so her absence was odd.
His daughters rushed him as Richard neared the long table,
each jockeying for a hug. They were all so much like their mother—the same
sharp features, the same hazel eyes, the same…well, whatever color hair they
wanted at the time. Each wrapped their arms around him and gave him a kiss on
the cheek before leading him by the hand to the table.
“You made it,” Pam said.
Was there a hidden “damn it” in her voice? He hoped so.
“I hit some traffic on the way.”
The drive to Vegas had been a hell of its own making.
Richard had spent the majority of his time watching his rearview mirror to make
sure he wasn’t being followed. Who would have thought one date two months ago
with Janet Brothers would turn into such a nightmare? When he declined to offer
a second date, she’d fallen to her knees in a horrible display of hysterics,
begging to know what she had to do to keep him. All he’d been able to say was,
“This isn’t it.”
She’d been stalking him ever since—to work, to home, to the
store, when he jogged. Richard knew he probably should have followed Ron and
Erin’s advice, and gotten a restraining order, especially after her latest
stunt—dead flowers on his doorstep and his poor old truck egged. He’d been
lulled by a quiet stretch only to have her pull this stunt. Of course, he had
no solid proof, and he hadn’t bother to file a report. After all, what damage
was really done to the truck. Was he scared? Oh yeah. But that just made him
more watchful.
Richard hadn’t seen her for the last week or so. He wasn’t a
fool to think she’d given up. During the long drive, he swore he saw her tan
Dodge Stratus dogging him. He wove through traffic trying to shake the vehicle.
The driver always managed to stay just far enough behind to keep him from
making a positive ID. She was a tenacious bitch; he’d give her that.
And yet Richard hadn’t seen her since his arrival. That
alone made him wonder if he was overly paranoid.
Pam made a big show of glancing over his shoulder. “No
date?”
“Just me.” He scuffed his hands together and looked around. “Where
shall I sit? Looks like all the places are taken.”
The groom jumped to his feet, toppling over his chair in the
process. A gasp escaped the woman across from him—Tommy’s mother judging from
the looks of her—thin with thick, curly dark hair. She looked like it was all
she could do to stay in her seat and not help him. Of course, her stillness
could have had a lot to do with her husband’s arm over her shoulder keeping her
in place.
Sadly, Melanie shot her fiancé a glare—the perfect imitation
of her mother. It chilled Richard. If this was a clue, poor Tommy wasn’t going
to have an easy time of it. A red flush covered the young man’s long face,
spreading down his neck until it blended with his San Francisco ’49ers T-shirt.
His hand shook as he righted his chair. Richard felt sorry for the poor guy.
“We can pull over another table, Mr. Braddock,” he said,
scrambling to do so. That earned the poor guy a glower from the wait staff.
Richard waved him back to his seat. “We’re halfway across
the room as it is. I’ll just sit over here.” Out of the line of fire and
happily ensconced at a table for four. Before he could pull out a chair at the
neighboring table, Ron and Erin joined him there.
“Glad to see you made it,” Ron said. “I was getting
worried.”
“Sorry, I should have called your cell. We had a homicide at
the last minute. I didn’t get out of there as quickly as I wanted and hit the
Friday traffic heading to Vegas.”
“Who was the victim?” Ron asked.
Richard shouldn’t have mentioned it. He really didn’t want
to think about it. Now he had little choice. “Marcy Tully.”
“Damn…what the fuck happened?”
Erin leaned in to the conversation. “Isn’t she the
dispatcher you went out with a couple of weeks ago? The one with the cute
little Lhasa apsos?”
“Yeah.”
Marcy was one of the nicest people around; everyone liked
her. Recently divorced from a philandering husband, everyone also thought she
and Richard would be a good match. Sadly, her divorce was too recent and all
she talked about over dinner. Even she admitted the date hadn’t been a good
idea. She’d apologized at the door, given him a kiss on the cheek, and thanked
him for being a good listener and friend.
Now she was dead. He still couldn’t believe it. A sweet,
thoughtful woman was murdered and yet psychotic bitch Janet still walked the
Earth. Richard hated himself for thinking that, but he was only human.
“How?” Ron asked.
“Apparently a random drive-by while she was out walking her
dogs.”
Erin blinked back tears. “Oh no…are they—”
“Her daughter has them.”
Erin didn’t need to know they’d had to comb forensic
evidence out of their fur first. He’d also seen to it that someone had bathed
the pooches afterward. The woman was traumatized enough; she didn’t need to see
her mother’s blood splattered over her beloved pets.
“Any leads?” Ron asked.
Richard shook his head. He was about to go into a little
more detail when Erin’s gaze shifted toward the entrance. Her eyes rounded.
“Holy shit.”
Richard got a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as
he turned around. Sure enough, Janet stood there. She finger-combed her short,
blond hair and looked everywhere but at him. Tight blue jeans rode low over her
hips, exposing her pierced navel and the belly button ring stuck there. She
wore a white tank top barely held up by spaghetti straps. Dark nipples defied
the cotton.
So…he wasn’t nuts after all. She had been following
him. Enough was enough.
Before he could take a step in her direction, a man edged up
behind her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Janet smiled up at his movie
star face and snuggled against him.
Relief washed over Richard. She hadn’t been following him.
It was just a crazy coincidence. Finally, she’d found someone else on whom to
lavish her attention. He wished her well.
Ron nudged him. “That has to be a load off your shoulders.”
“You have no idea.” He was glad now he hadn’t gone after
that restraining order. Considering how tight she was with this guy, they’d
been together for a while. That meant the flowers and eggs had to be the work
of vandals, most probably some neighborhood kids who had a grudge against cops.
Janet’s face glowed as she and her man made their way to
their table. Her gaze drifted Richard’s way as they started to pass. She jerked
to a stop, pulling the man with her.
“What a surprise,” she exclaimed. “Small world, huh?”
She looked so happy it was impossible not to smile. “So they
say,” he replied. Even from a man’s perspective, Richard had to admit her date
was handsome—tanned, blond, bulked.
She motioned to her date. “This is Clark.”
They exchanged nods as Janet made introductions.
“We’re here for the weekend. And you?” she asked.
“Family wedding,” Erin volunteered.
“Well…enjoy. I know we will.” She let Clark guide her away
to their table.
“Thank God that nasty little episode is over,” Erin said
after they’d gone out of earshot.
“I’ll second that.” It felt like at least part of the world
was off his shoulders. “So…where’s Abby? I thought she was coming.”
Erin glanced back toward the entrance and smiled. “There she
is.”
Richard looked up. A host of things happened, and in such
rapid succession he could barely process them. One thing he was painfully aware
of—he hadn’t had an erection this hard in ages.
To say Abby Strickland was drop-dead gorgeous was a gross
understatement. Now he knew the true meaning of the phrase “brick house.” Abby
didn’t specifically resemble either of her parents. It was as if the powers
that be threw the couple’s genes in a blender, mixed them up real good, and out
came this beautiful woman.
Her shoulder-length hair carried hints of blond in the
brunette. Makeup enhanced her features delicately rather than bragged about
them. She wore a tropical print sundress of deep rose, blue, and indigo that
wafted against her shins with every step. He’d never wanted to see a woman’s
legs more.
Laughter in her brown eyes matched the smile on her
just-right lips. A smile that was directed right at him, just as those eyes
were. Somehow Richard forced himself to stand, then blessed whatever gods
existed that his back was to the crowd at the larger table and her parents were
focused on her.
She hugged her mother, then her father, all the while
watching him. Then she wrapped those wondrous arms around him. The hint of
vanilla speared his senses. He was aware of every curve, every press of her
body against his. And one thing was certain—she could damn well feel his
response.
He expected condemnation of some kind when they pulled
apart. What he got was a look so filled with longing it nearly knocked him the
rest of the way off his feet.
