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“You’re more than one of my agents now. You’re my wife.”
The teasing light warmed in her beautiful eyes, and he felt a thrill over assessing her correctly.
He stopped. She faced him and a long, silent moment filled the energy between them. Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“You’re going to make a great mom.”
Her slow blink told him she received his comment favorably, in opposition to her choice in profession. Maybe he’d overgeneralized. Women could take on any type of career and be great moms. Jocelyn’s case differed in how she’d come to her decision. It didn’t matter. She fascinated him.
Without any thought over why he shouldn’t, Trevor leaned in and kissed her.
* * *
We hope you enjoy this preview of The Coltons of Texas: Finding love and buried family secrets in the Lone Star State…
A Baby for Agent Colton
Jennifer Morey
Two-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Quill Award winner JENNIFER MOREY writes single-title contemporary romance and page-turning romantic suspense. She has a geology degree and has managed export programs in compliance with the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR) for the aerospace industry. She lives at the feet of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado, and loves to hear from readers through her website, www.jennifermorey.com, or Facebook.
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For Allie, my adorable, smart, loving Australian shepherd, who always knows when to paw me for attention!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
“It’s not her.” Trevor Colton strolled around the body lying on blood-soaked carpet next to the bed.
Evidence of a violent fight for life cluttered the scene, a tipped-over lamp and chair, broken picture glass and the item that had prompted the call to him. A red permanent marker lay on the floor where a pen and pencil jar had fallen from a small desk crammed next to a dresser. That, in addition to the first letter of the victim’s name, had alerted him and his team that this could be the work of the Alphabet Killer. As soon as Trevor saw the scene, however, he didn’t agree.
When his most promising agent didn’t respond, he turned to see Jocelyn Locke staring at the body, one arm folded against her ribs, the other propped on top, fingers curled at her lips.
Since when did she get queasy at crime scenes? The bloody body and overall gore surrounding what had once been Jane McDonald would shock anyone not familiar with this line of work. Jocelyn was a trained FBI agent, still a rookie, but this wasn’t her first murder case. Trevor enjoyed training her, molding her into an excellent detective. He ignored the little voice that taunted he liked something else about her, too.
She noticed him scrutinizing her. Lowering her hand, she asked, “What?”
Whatever had her disturbed abruptly disappeared. He decided to let it pass for now. They had work to do.
“Our subject didn’t do this,” he said. “Someone who once loved her did this. A man. Husband. Lover.” He pointed to the stab wounds. “See how many times he stabbed her? Twenty or twenty-five times. Look at her chest. It’s shredded.”
Jocelyn’s
