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Grace hadn’t signed up for this. She’d agreed to a professional relationship.
Kissing did not belong in a professional relationship.
She’d committed to helping him. And she had. He now knew his name. Jackson Hawke, billionaire. The truth was he didn’t need her anymore. His people could give him the support he needed. In fact, they’d be better qualified than her by far.
But she took pride in keeping her promises.
She liked helping him. Being honest, she admitted he’d helped her, too. In the beginning, the challenge of his situation gave her something to focus on at a time when she was at a loss.
The problem was he kept breaking the rules.
The kiss changed things. Her response changed everything.
His Unforgettable Fiancée
Teresa Carpenter
TERESA CARPENTER believes that with love and family anything is possible. She writes in a Southern California coastal city surrounded by her large family. Teresa loves writing about babies and grandmas. Her books have rated Top Picks by RT Book Reviews and have been nominated Best Romance of the Year on some review sites. If she’s not at a family event, she’s reading or writing her next grand romance.
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This book is dedicated to Patty, Maria and the gang at the Grab & Go on 6th Street in downtown San Diego. Much of my books are written during lunch. Thank you for your service and your patience. And for not throwing me out when I’m the last one there.
Contents
“G. DELANEY, YOU look beautiful tonight.” Chet Crowder slurred the compliment.
Sheriff Grace Delaney glanced down at her khaki uniform, thought of her black cap of hair slicked back for convenience and her lack of makeup beyond a swipe of mascara and a touch of lip gloss, and figured if she needed any further evidence of Chet’s intoxication she had proof of it in that comment.
“Is it midnight yet?” the eighty-year-old demanded. “I get a kiss at midnight.” The words barely left his mouth when he bent over and puked all over the slick concrete floor.
“It’s against procedures to kiss the prisoners.” Grace cited policy as she nimbly avoided the deluge, stepping around the mess to escort him to the middle cell.
“But it’s New Year’s Eve,” Chet protested with a burp. “You can make an ex-exception for New Year’s Eve.”
He didn’t have to tell her it was New Year’s Eve. Not even eleven o’clock and they already had three D and Ds—drunk and disorderly. Business as usual for the holiday. But not much longer for her. In a little over an hour she’d be handing over her gun and shield, her interim assignment as sheriff at an end.
“Rules are made for a reason,” she stated. Her father’s mantra, and thus the words she’d lived her life by. He’d been on her mind a lot tonight. “No exceptions.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, G. Delaney.” Chet lumbered across the cell to the cot chained to the wall. “But no fun. That’s why I didn’t vote for you. Too serious, girl. Need to have a drink and lighten up some.”
