Not Without Her Family

“Ignore my brother,” Allie told her. “He’s a bit overprotective.” She smiled. “I’m Allie Martin. Jack says you’re looking for Dillon?”

“That’s right. I thought he’d be working here today.”

“He ran out for some lunch,” Allie said. “But he should be back any minute. Can I get you something? A soda, maybe?”

“Uh…” Kelsey’s eyes darted from Allie to Jack, but then she slid onto a stool. “A soda would be great. Thanks.”

Allie filled a glass and placed it in front of Kelsey. “Is Dillon expecting you?”

Kelsey twirled her straw between two fingers. “I doubt it. I was in the area and thought I’d drop in to see him.” She sipped her drink. “So…uh…you own this place?”

“I do.” His sister’s pride was unmistakable. And, if you asked Jack, unwarranted.

Not that he wasn’t thrilled to have Allie back in Serenity Springs where she belonged, but why couldn’t she have opened a law practice instead of mixing drinks for a living? Or at least bought a place that hadn’t sat empty for the past year?

Allie leaned her elbows on the bar, her chin in her hand. “Actually I’ve only had it a few months. Dillon just started the renovations and he figures it’ll be at least two months before we’re done.”

“Have you thought of moving the pool table there?” Kelsey pointed to the far corner by the kitchen. “It would open the flow of traffic and leave you room for more seating.”

“You think?”

Kelsey nodded. “Yeah. That way you could put in a small dance floor as well. You could even add a dartboard.”

Jack sat two stools down from Kelsey and zoned out of their conversation before they started swapping decorating tips and cake recipes. His instincts went into overdrive when he looked at Kelsey. It was more than just her looks, her clothes and her bad-girl vibe.

He’d been brought up to never judge a book by its cover. Helen and Larry Martin had raised their four children to be fair and nonjudgmental. His liberal mother insisted on tolerance and compassion, and his father—Serenity Springs’ previous chief of police—truly believed justice was for all.

Nice sentiments, but Jack knew better.

Nine years working the streets of New York City, working his way up to detective, had wiped away any idealistic beliefs his parents had instilled in him. Tolerance and compassion were no match against the endless stream of violence and ugliness so many people faced day in and day out.

He’d learned to look beyond the obvious. To count on his instincts. At the moment, those instincts were telling him there was more to Kelsey Reagan than met the eye.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Jack turned to see Dillon Ward standing in the doorway. Ward’s usual cold, flat expression had been replaced with a dark scowl. And that dark scowl was aimed at none other than Kelsey Reagan.

Jack glanced at Kelsey. Gone was the cocky, go-to-hell attitude. Instead she seemed apprehensive. Nervous. Almost…vulnerable.

What was that about?

Kelsey got to her feet. “I…I wanted to see you.”

Her statement was met with silence. Not the comfortable kind, either. More like the oppressive, somebody-say-something-to-break-it kind.

“Well,” Allie said brightly, doing her part to ease the tension in the room. “I’m starving. I think I’ll just go make some lunch. Come on, Jack.”

“I’m not hungry.” He kept his eyes on Ward.

Allie walked around the bar and stopped in front of Jack. “I said—” she grabbed his arm and pinched, hard “—let’s go.”

Ow. Damn, that was going to leave a bruise. “Fine.” He twisted out of her reach knowing he could keep an eye on Kelsey and Ward from the kitchen. Allie grabbed her coat while Jack picked up her groceries.

“What was that for?” Jack asked when they were in the kitchen.

“What do you think?” She unloaded her groceries onto an old, large farm table. “They don’t need us watching their every move.”

“Wanna bet?”

She sent him an exasperated look. “You’re overreacting, Jack. Just because you don’t like Dillon—”

“He’s a convicted felon. A murderer.”

Allie’s expression darkened and she slammed a can of tomatoes onto the table with more force than necessary. “Dillon has paid his debt to society, and he’s been an exemplary citizen since he moved here. Besides, whatever’s going on between him and Kelsey is none of our business.”

“As chief of police, everything that happens in this town is my business.” He edged toward the doorway to watch the couple in question. “But, as long as Ward and his sister keep their noses clean, they won’t have anything to worry about, will they?”

KELSEY MET DILLON’S HAZEL EYES and emotions surged through her, too numerous to name, too frightening to acknowledge. The only solid thought she could grasp and recognize was that after so long, she was finally face-to-face with her brother again.

Too bad she’d only been fooling herself all these years thinking time would heal their wounds.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come. She barely recognized Dillon as the young man who’d given up his future for her. In his place stood a broad-shouldered stranger who looked at her with cold, emotionless eyes.

Well, one thing was for sure. He hadn’t been expecting her.

Guess she should’ve remembered how much he hated surprises.

“What do you want, Kelsey?”

“Leigh’s dead,” she blurted out as she twisted her fingers together. “She died in her sleep three months ago. The coroner said it was heart failure.”

“I know.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

And here she’d thought the news of their mother’s death would be the perfect excuse for tracking him down.

“If that’s what you came here to tell me—”

“I just wanted to see you. To talk to you.” No response. Not a flicker of emotion crossed the hard planes of his face. “Uh, how have you been?”

“You mean since the last time you saw me?” He stuck his hands in his front pockets and shrugged. “Hard to get much worse than being in federal prison, isn’t it?”

She flinched at the bitterness in his voice. At the accusation. Of course he had every right to accuse her. After all, he wouldn’t have gone to prison if he hadn’t been protecting her.

She wanted to beg him to forgive her for what happened. To throw herself into his arms and never let him go again. Instead, she took several deep breaths and wiped her damp palms down the front of her jeans.