Tool Belt Defender. Carla Cassidy

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but I always have Sunday dinner with my brothers and their families,” she replied.

      “Then what about Monday evening?” They stopped in front of her house.

      Her brown eyes studied him thoughtfully. “Alex, I’m not looking for any kind of romance.”

      “I’m not, either,” he quickly replied. “I have no intentions of ever marrying again. But I’m new in town and to be honest, I’ve been a bit lonely. I just thought it would be nice to have a friend to share a meal or spend some time with.”

      “Okay,” she agreed. “As long as we both understand where we’re coming from, I’d love to have dinner with you on Monday.”

      “Great! Why don’t we say around six-thirty?”

      “Sounds good and thanks for the ice cream.” She looked down the walk to Emily. “Bye, Emily,” she called.

      “Bye, Brittany.” Emily waved. “See ya later.”

      Brittany looked back at Alex. “And I’ll see you Monday morning, right?”

      “Bright and early,” he replied. They said their goodbyes and he watched as she climbed the stairs to her porch and then disappeared into her house.

      Emily fell into step beside him and began chatting about her plans to play with the neighbor girl the next day. Alex listened absently and wondered why he wanted to kiss a woman he’d just told he only wanted to be her friend.

      Chapter 3

      She shouldn’t have agreed to dinner. Brittany walked into her kitchen, dropped her purse on the counter and then sank down into one of the kitchen chairs.

      Alex Crawford disturbed her in a distinctly pleasant way. Something about him made her heart flutter in her chest and caused her palms to dampen. She liked the way he looked, the way he smelled. She liked the sound of his laughter, so rich and deep, and she liked the way he interacted with his daughter.

      As she’d watched him eat his ice cream she’d found herself wondering what his lips would taste like, how his arms would feel wrapped around her.

      Dangerous thoughts.

      She knew she wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship, and as cute and sweet as Emily had been, Brittany definitely wasn’t ready to be a mom. Her brothers would laugh at the very idea and remind her how flighty and immature she was.

      Still, she could use a friend and apparently that was what Alex was looking for, too. He was new to town and obviously hadn’t made any real friends, and hers had all pretty much deserted her in the months following her rescue while she’d been living with Benjamin and Edie on the family ranch just outside of town.

      “Two less lonely people in the world.” The words to an old Air Supply song filled her head. Maybe Alex was supposed to be her transitional man, the one who, through his easy friendship, could bridge her way from recovering crime victim to healthy young woman ready for love.

      Dinner at Alex’s place was nothing to be concerned about, she told herself. Emily would be there, and besides, Brittany had made it clear to Alex she wasn’t ready for romance.

      She was about to get out of the chair when a shadow darted across the kitchen window. Every muscle in her body froze—except her heart, which roared to a painful gallop.

      Somebody was in her yard … just outside of her window. What was he doing out there? Had the person been watching her? Why? The inertia left her and with her heart still beating far too fast, she got up from the table.

      Her feet felt leaden with fear as she tentatively approached the window and cautiously peered outside.

      Nothing.

      Although the evening shadows had thickened, there was still enough ambient light to let her know that there was nobody lurking in her backyard.

      Had the shadow just been a figment of her imagination? Had a cloud danced over the moon to create what she’d thought was somebody just outside the house?

      She drew a deep breath and backed away from the window, her heart not yet finding its normal rhythm. She felt foolish and yet couldn’t halt the feeling of threat that combined with a deep sense of dread that washed over her.

      She wished she had her gun, but she’d turned it in to Tom just after she’d been rescued, knowing it would be some time before she was ready, if ever, to go back to work as his deputy.

      The fear kept her awake until near dawn when she fell into a restless sleep. She didn’t get out of bed until almost noon the next day and as always the sunshine made her fears of the night before seem silly.

      She hated the fear, was ashamed of it. It was part of the reason she knew she wasn’t ready to go back to her job. A good deputy didn’t feel fear. A good deputy didn’t think the way she’d thought when she’d been held by a madman.

      It was just before six in the evening when she left her house to drive to the family ranch on the edge of town. Since the crime that had taken her away for four months, it had become a tradition that on Sunday the whole family got together at the old homestead for dinner.

      As she parked in front of the large, rambling ranch house, she tried to slough off the exhaustion that had been with her all day long. Two nights of too little sleep had definitely taken its toll.

      She was the last to arrive and when she walked through the front door the chaos of family greeted her. Her brothers were all in the great room, Tom’s wife Peyton’s little girl, Lilly, tottering back and forth between them with squeals of delight.

      “Hey, girl.” Caleb got out of his chair and greeted her with a kiss on her temple. He stepped back from her and frowned. “What’s up with you? You don’t look so hot.”

      She punched him in the arm. “Thanks, you’re terrific for a girl’s ego.” She worried a hand through her long hair. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

      “Bad night?” Benjamin asked, his dark eyes filled with compassion.

      She shrugged. “I thought I saw somebody outside my window. It freaked me out a little bit and I had trouble getting to sleep.” She watched as they all exchanged glances.

      “You know, Brittany, maybe you should talk to somebody,” Jacob said. “You won’t talk to us about what happened for those four months. Maybe you need a little therapy.”

      “I don’t need therapy,” she replied with a touch of irritation. “I just need a good night’s sleep, that’s all.” She left the great room and her brothers and went into the kitchen where the wives were all gathered.

      Of all the women who had become sisters-in-law, Brittany felt the closest to Layla, Jacob’s wife. Layla had been the last victim kidnapped and placed in a cell to await The Professional’s final party of death. Although she’d only been captive for a few hours before they had all been rescued, Brittany knew that Layla understood at least part of the kind of terror that Brittany had tasted, had endured throughout her ordeal.

      “Mmm, something smells good,” she said as she entered the large, cheerful kitchen.

      “Roast

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