Beth Andrews - Not Without Her Family

“Not worth getting so upset over,” he said. “I’ve seen Ward’s kind before. You’re better off without him.”

Her mouth opened. Then shut. She shook her head. “You don’t know Dillon or me. And I don’t need, or want, your opinion.”

He probably deserved her curt tone. Even it he’d only been trying to help. But if she wanted to waste her time with the likes of Dillon Ward, it was no concern of his.

“I apologize if I was out of line,” he said, unable to keep the stiffness out of his voice. With a slight nod, he put on his sunglasses, turned and walked away.

He wasn’t going to apologize for distrusting Dillon Ward. Of course, it was true that Ward had managed to stay out of trouble since being released from federal prison, but Jack wasn’t about to let his guard down. Especially while Ward was working for Allie.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Kelsey called, exasperation clear in her voice.

Jack stopped by his Jeep and slowly turned around. She was still at her car, her arms crossed at her chest, her mouth turned down at the corners.

“Was there something you needed?” he asked when she remained silent.

Her frown deepened and she sighed heavily which, for some crazy reason, made him want to smile. He must really be losing it.

The sun picked up the copper highlights in her spiky hair as she trudged across the parking lot toward him. “I need directions to a place to spend the night.”

“Planning on staying in our fair town long?”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff. I’ll be gone in the morning.”

He wasn’t worried. Much. “Depending on what you’re looking for—”

“Just a clean bed and bit of privacy.”

“You might like the B and B over by the lake. The Bee Hive.”

She snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Afraid not.” He opened the Jeep’s door, pulled out his citation book and ripped out a ticket. After scribbling directions on the back, he handed her the paper. “It’s clean and not too far from here.”

She hesitated a moment before taking it, careful not to touch him.

“Thanks,” she said, avoiding his eyes. Jack leaned back against his car as he watched her march away. She climbed behind the wheel of an older model gray compact and took off like a redheaded bat out of hell.

He blew out a breath, climbed into his Jeep and told himself he was glad Kelsey was leaving in the morning. Though there might have been a small spark of attraction between them, it was only temporary and superficial. Not that he minded superficial when it came to sex, but even if Kelsey did stay in town, he’d keep his distance from her.

The last thing he needed, he thought as he started the ignition, was to get tangled up with Dillon Ward’s sister.

KELSEY STAGGERED INTO HER ROOM, turned the lock on the door handle, crossed the small space and fell facedown onto the plush bed. The room was sparsely furnished but clean. There didn’t seem to be many other options in town. At least not many she could afford. Which Chief Martin had obviously figured out or else he wouldn’t have suggested this place.

She sighed. It was one thing to be down and out. It was another to be obvious about it. Not that she cared what he thought of her. He was just another guy in uniform.

She turned her head to the left and wrinkled her nose. Oh, all right—the cop was gorgeous. In a law-abiding sort of way. And yeah, there had been a moment when she’d felt a definite…connection. Not one of those eyes-locked-across-a-crowded-room moments or anything. More like an awareness. And she was pretty certain he’d felt it, too.

And that he hadn’t liked it any more than she did.

She yawned widely and shut her eyes. It was barely 5:00 p.m. and she was already bone weary, which was so unlike her. For the past three years she’d tended bar during peak hours so she was used to being up late. But the emotional roller coaster she’d been riding since discovering her brother was alive and well—and living a few short hours away from her—left her exhausted.

Too bad their reunion hadn’t gone as smoothly as she would’ve liked.

She rolled onto her side and stared at the sky-blue wall. The color reminded her of the cop’s eyes so she turned onto her back, absently picking at the bedspread.

She’d shocked Dillon by showing up unannounced, but she’d been scared he’d take off if he knew she’d found him. She couldn’t take the chance of losing him again. Once Dillon calmed down, he’d listen to her. Her hand fisted in the bedspread. He had to.

She’d been a senior in high school the last time she saw him. She’d ditched class and taken a bus to the Toledo Correctional Institute where Dillon was serving his sentence for manslaughter. He’d been so distant, so cold. As if she’d meant little more to him than a stranger would.

She had no one to blame for the distance between them but herself. Because he’d had to save her, Dillon spent close to five years locked up.

Dillon told her he didn’t want her to visit or write him again. She’d let him push her away, had allowed her pain—and her guilt—to keep her away.

Even then, she never gave up on him. She’d found an attorney willing to take his case, one who’d been able to get his sentence reduced. But by the time she’d gotten up the courage to face him again, Dillon had disappeared from Ohio and her life.

She hadn’t come this far—literally and figuratively—to give in now. She wanted her brother back in her life. Wanted to prove she wasn’t the same impulsive troublemaker she’d been. Mostly, she wanted a connection to the only person who’d ever believed in her. Who’d ever loved her. And, by God, that’s exactly what she would get.

Whether Dillon liked it or not.

“BUY ME A DRINK, SAILOR?”

Jack glanced up. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Pinching pennies?” Seth Valentine sat on the bar stool next to Jack. “No wonder you never get laid.”

“(a) You’re not my type,” Jack said over the classic Aerosmith song playing on The Summit’s jukebox. “And (b) I’ve had sex plenty of times without your half-assed advice.”

“I’m not talking about your solo sessions. Only the times another warm body was involved. And barn animals don’t count.”

“You’re a riot,” Jack told his closest friend. The bartender, a heavily made-up brunette with a silver hoop in her left eyebrow, took Seth’s beer order and scurried off. “What are you doing here? The NYPD now giving detectives weekends off?”

Seth scooped a handful of bar nuts from the bowl in front of them. Tossed some into his mouth and shook the ones left in his hand. “Came up for my mom’s birthday tomorrow.”

“She still pissed about Mother’s Day?”

“She threatened to sell her house and move in with me if I miss her birthday, and I have to get her a decent gift.”

Having known Mrs. Valentine since he was in kindergarten, Jack knew she didn’t issue empty threats. “Guess that six-month membership to Weight Watchers wasn’t such a hot idea.”

“Hey, she’s always moaning about losing twenty pounds. How was I to know it would set her off?” Seth nodded his thanks when his draft was placed in front of him. “What about you?” he asked, wiping his hand on his jeans before picking up his beer. “Where’s Emma?”

“She’s spending the weekend with her grandparents.”

Ever since his wife died in a car accident four years ago, Emma spent one weekend a month with Nicole’s parents in New Jersey—Jack wanted his daughter to stay connected to both sides of her family.

Seth, in the act of raising his beer, stopped suddenly and whistled under his breath. “Hello. Look what just walked in.”

Jack followed his friend’s line of sight. His stomach did one slow roll.