Marie Ferrarella - Becoming a Cavanaugh

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Cover Page

Title Page Becoming a Cavanaugh Marie Ferrarella www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author Marie Ferrarella has written more than one hundred and fifty books, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website at www.marieferrarella.com.

Dedication To Jaren Sterkel Hope you like this one

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

Copyright

Marie Ferrarellahas written more than one hundred and fifty books, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website at www.marieferrarella.com.

To Jaren Sterkel Hope you like this one

Too much.

It was just too damn much to handle at the same time, Detective Kyle O’Brien thought as he walked out of his lieutenant’s office.

His late mother used to be fond of saying that God never gave you more than you could handle. Obviously, this had to be the new, improved God heaping all this on him. Either that, or his mother wasn’t really as close to the Man upstairs as she thought. All this was more than he could put up with at one time.

It had been hard enough dealing with his mother’s recent death without finding out that she had lied to him, to his brother and to his sister for the last twenty-five years.

All of their lives.

Their father hadn’t been a Marine who had died overseas for his country. Their biological father had actually been the late, malcontented Mike Cavanaugh, a police detective who had never married their mother because he already had a wife and family. From what Kyle had managed to gather, unlike his older brother Andrew and his younger brother Brian—both high-ranking officials on the Aurora police force—Mike Cavanaugh selfishly preferred the company of a bottle to that of anyone around him.

The revelation, made by his mother on her deathbed, had hit Kyle like the full swing of a sledgehammer right to his gut. What made it even worse was that they were the last words his mother uttered.

Angry at the immediate world and feeling deprived of his mother and the illusion of the father he’d thought he had and his very identity, Kyle had gone storming over to Andrew Cavanaugh’s house to confront the former chief of police with this information.

At the time, Kyle had believed that everyone else in the vast Cavanaugh clan had known about Mike’s indiscretions. As it turned out, Andrew Cavanaugh and the rest of the family were just as stunned by this latest twist as he and his siblings were.

None of the Cavanaughs were angered by this information, and he, Ethan and Greer suddenly found themselves welcomed into the family with open arms.

Well, almost everyone. It had taken Mike Cavanaugh’s son, Patrick, a little while to come around. But eventually—thanks to his wife and his sister—he had. The whole of the Cavanaughs had come around a great deal faster than he, Ethan and Greer had. Barely two months later, Greer was still a little in shock but coping. As for Ethan, he seemed to be acclimating to the reality of who his father was.

Funny, when you’re part of triplets, you expect the other two-thirds to feel exactly the same way as you do. He supposed he couldn’t fault them and in a way, he envied Ethan and Greer the peace that seemed to be coming into their lives.

But here he was, still trying to work through his hurt, his anger and his confusion, not to mention his grief. And if that wasn’t enough on his plate, his partner up and quit the force.

Oh, he hadn’t called it quitting. Eric Castle called what he was doing retiring, saying something about wanting to enjoy his life before his luck ran out. Whatever the hell he chose to call it, it felt like desertion.

Castle had been his first and only partner and he’d worked out a system with the older detective. One that served him pretty well. Now he was supposed to just skip off happily into some other partnership? With a Cheshire cat?

That was apparently what the lieutenant thought when he’d called him into his office.

Kyle sighed. He should have known something was up when he walked in and saw the woman sitting there in front of Lieutenant Barone’s desk. A petite, pretty blonde, with lively blue eyes and a mouth that kept pulling into a smile as easily as she drew breath. Also as often. At first glance, he’d just assumed she was a friend of the lieutenant’s. Maybe even his daughter, given the age spread.

The last thing she could be was his new partner. But then, he hadn’t noticed the telltale bulge of her weapon.

His new partner.

The words stuck in his throat the first time he tried to repeat them. Finally, he managed to ask, his voice low, the words coming out almost on a growl, “You’re replacing Castle?”

By the tolerant smile on the lieutenant’s face, it was obvious that he’d expected resistance and had decided to be amused by it rather than annoyed. “Well, given that the man’s on his way to Lake Arrowhead…” The indulgent smile widened as the lieutenant cocked his head, as if he was trying to read him. “Did you miss Castle’s retirement party? Wasn’t that you I saw giving the toast?” he prodded.

Kyle blew out an angry breath, but kept his expression blank. “Yeah, I know he’s retired. I just thought you were going to let me go it alone for a while.”

“I was,” the lieutenant replied. “I believe my exact words were, ‘You can go it alone until I can find you another partner.’ And I did.” He gestured toward the young woman in the other chair. “Detective Rosetti,” he emphasized.

Kyle kept his unfathomable eyes on the lieutenant. “It’s only been a week.”

Barone inclined his head. “So it has. I didn’t want you to get too used to being on your own. You need someone to watch your back.” There was no arguing with the lieutenant’s tone. “Rosetti’s a transfer from the Oakland PD. As luck would have it, she’s from the homicide division, so there won’t be a breaking-in period.” He ended with a smile aimed at the young woman.

“As luck would have it,” Kyle murmured under his breath.

Right now, he wasn’t feeling particularly lucky. Just the opposite. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to babysit a novice, no matter what Barone claimed. The woman couldn’t possibly be a seasoned detective. Not with that face.

A glimmer of Barone’s temper surfaced. He tolerated a little stubbornness, but only for so long. “Look, it’s not as if we’re some bed-and-breakfast township where arguments are resolved by going, rock, paper, scissors. People have hot tempers here and they kill each other. We need all the good men—and women,” Barone amended, nodding his head at the new detective by way of a semi-apology for his near oversight, “we can get. Am I right?” he asked Kyle.