Hard Core Law. Angi Morgan

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Hard Core Law - Angi  Morgan

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tried so hard to keep in place was curled in the middle of her forehead. Most of the time she shoved it back in with the rest, but he practically had her hands pinned at her sides. This time, he followed through on a simple pleasure. He took the curl between his fingers and gently tucked it away.

      Josh allowed the side of his hand to caress the soft skin of Tracey’s cheek. His fingertips whispered across her lips and her eyes closed. It was time. Now. A conscious decision. No spur-of-the-moment accident.

      He leaned down as he tilted her chin up. Their lips connected and his hands wrapped around her, smashing her body into his. They molded together and all the dormant parts of his soul ignited.

      Four years since he’d really held a woman in his arms. The last lips he’d tasted had been a sweet goodbye. It had been a long time since he’d thought about passion.

      Tracey’s eyes opened when he hesitated for a split second. He didn’t see fear or surprise—only passion waiting for him. He kissed her again, not allowing them time to think or reconsider.

      Her lips tasted like the coconut-flavored lip balm she recently began using. But her mouth tasted of the butter-flavored icing from her birthday cake. Lips soft and rich. Her body was toned, yet pliant against him.

      Yes, he analyzed it all. Every part of her. He wanted to remember just in case he never got another chance.

      Intimacy hadn’t been his since... Since... He couldn’t allow himself to go in that direction. Tracey was in his arms. Tracey’s body was responding to his caresses.

      Their lips parted. He wanted to race forward, but they needed a beginning first. He’d worked it all out a hundred times in his head. This was logical. Start with a kiss, let her know he wanted more.

      “Okay, that was...surprising for a birthday present.”

      No doubt about it, her voice was shaking with breathlessness.

      “Sorry, that wasn’t it. I kept the box at the office so the kids couldn’t say anything. It’s in the truck.” He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets to stop them from pointing to one more thing. One step away from her and he wondered if she was breathless or so surprised she didn’t know how to react.

      “Josh?”

      No.

      “It’ll just take a sec.”

      Tracey caught up with him and followed him onto the porch. “Maybe I should go home?” She smiled and rubbed his arm like a pal.

      “Right.” He slipped his thumbs inside his front pockets. He lifted his chin when he realized it was tucked to his chest.

      “It’s just... Well, you’ve been drinking and I don’t want...” Her voice trailed off the same way it did when she was sharing something negative about the twins’ behavior. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Ever.

      “Got it.” He marched to her car and forced himself not to yank the door off the hinges.

      “Don’t be mad. It’s not that I didn’t—”

      “Tracey. I got it.”

      And he did. All he knew about Tracey was that she’d been there for him and the kids. Assuming she felt the same when— Dammit, he didn’t know anything about her life outside their small world here.

      “I’m going to head out.” Purse over her shoulder, she waved from the front door of her car. “Night.” She waved and gently shut the door behind her.

      Change is a mistake. Nah, he’d had this debate with himself for weeks. It was time to move on. He couldn’t be afraid of what might or might not happen.

      Tracey’s tires spun a little in the gravel as she pulled away. He hoped like hell that he hadn’t scared her away. From him, maybe. But she wouldn’t leave the twins, right? She was the only mother they’d ever had in their lives.

      For a while, he’d thought he admired her for that. But this wasn’t all about the kids. He needed her to say that she felt something for him. Because four years was long enough.

      He was ready to love again.

       Chapter One

      Nothing. Two weeks since Josh Parker had kissed her, and then avoided her like the plague. Two weeks and she’d barely seen him. Adding insult to injury, he’d even hired a teenager to watch the kids a couple of nights.

      Tracey tilted the rearview mirror to get a better view of Jackson and Sage. They were too quiet. Smiling at each other in twin language. It was ice cream Friday and they’d behaved at school, so that had meant sprinkles. And they’d enjoyed every single colored speck.

      The intersection was busier than usual. The car in front of her turned and Tracey finally saw the holdup. The hood was up on a small moving van at the stop sign. She was making her way around, pulling to the side, when another car parked next to the van.

      “Tracey, we’re hungry,” Sage said.

      “I know, sweetheart. I’m doing my best.” She put her Mazda in Reverse trying to turn around in the street. “Can you reach your crackers, Jackson?”

      “Yep, yep, yep,” he answered like the dinosaur on the old DVDs he’d been watching. She watched him tug his little backpack between the car seats and snag a cracker, then share a second with Sage.

      “Just one, little man. You just had ice cream.”

      Two men left the moving van and waved at her to back up. She was awfully close to the other van, but she trusted their directions. Right up until she felt her car hit. She hadn’t been going fast enough for damage, but the guy seemed to get pretty steamed and stomped toward her door.

      Great what a way to begin her weekend.

      The men split to either side of her car, where one gave her the signal to roll down her window. She lowered it enough to allow him to hear her, then she unbuckled and leaned to the glove compartment for her insurance card.

      “Sorry about that, but your friend—” Tracey looked up and froze.

      Now in a ski mask, the man next to her window shouted, pulling on the door handle, tapping on the window with the butt of a handgun before pushing the barrel inside. “Open the door!”

      She hit the horn repeatedly and put the car back into gear, willing to smash it to bits in order to get away. But it was wedged in tight. Once she’d backed up, they’d quickly used two vehicles to block her, parking in front and behind, pinning her car between the three.

      Would they really shoot her to carjack an old junker of a Mazda?

      “You can have the car. If you want money, it’ll take a little while, but I can get that, too. You don’t have to do this.” She kept careful control of her voice. “Just let me unsnap the twins and take them with me.”

      “Get out! Now!” A second gunman shouted through the glass at the passenger door.

      Where were all the cars now? Why had she lowered the window

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