Evening Hours
Mary Lynn Baxter
Her dream of becoming a fashion model shattered by a car accident, Kaylee Benton has a successful career running a top Texas modeling agency. But the scars run deep.She longs for two things she believes she can never have: a husband and a child. When she is swept off her feet by D.A. Cutler McFarland, she tries to catch her breath long enough to fathom: why her, why now.Cutler McFarland can't deny his attraction to Kaylee, but marrying her is blackmail, pure and simple. Kaylee's father believes he's doing the right thing when he orders Cutler to marry Kaylee so the secrets of Cutler's past won't come to light. It's a dark revelation that could destroy Cutler's family and his career. But that doesn't stop Cutler from fighting back…or falling in love with Kaylee–from whom he now must keep the hardest secret of all.
An excerpt from
EVENING HOURS
Life was good, and Kaylee had learned early to treasure such moments. After nearly losing her life at such a young age, nothing had ever been the same, and she never wasted one precious moment.
That thinking gave her all the more reason not to waste one second contemplating a particular man. Her heart did a sudden somersault as she admitted to herself that she had thought about that cowboy off and on all night.
Unsettling?
Absolutely.
Crazy?
Absolutely.
A waste of time?
Absolutely.
Lethal.
Absolutely.
So why couldn’t she get him off her mind?
Evening Hours
Mary Lynn Baxter
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to my
friend and gym buddy
Walter Bates
who should be writing instead of running.
Thanks for all your plotting expertise.
Contents
Chapter One (#ud4b888a2-7eb8-573b-af04-22ebb1cefec1)
Chapter Two (#u88501a69-ceba-565f-ab49-3c49fb97e26e)
Chapter Three (#u3864b686-c327-5d35-937d-1b7edf21126c)
Chapter Four (#u8fde1ebb-5311-542f-ac2f-45ef9cac8c30)
Chapter Five (#ud648d759-f8df-52e5-80f5-72ab645e78d4)
Chapter Six (#uf796ca2f-850e-5f7c-beae-da3f498737fa)
Chapter Seven (#u1a5f9b45-fae5-55de-a819-744e19b75817)
Chapter Eight (#ueb16e099-3b83-549f-9ae5-918286921f95)
Chapter Nine (#uac746f38-ac5a-5968-b553-864aa3051b43)
Chapter Ten (#u0bb62641-cf8d-5bda-b664-a3d6b5de9745)
Chapter Eleven (#ub052f2b1-e1aa-5d5e-a40b-c40639155bd0)
Chapter Twelve (#u3640acb4-8ecb-53ad-8b99-fa7d70d26dc8)
Chapter Thirteen (#udab547e3-e910-5247-8cb3-6b14d1448cae)
Chapter Fourteen (#u4b982c1e-b397-559c-8acb-8afbfc897e80)
Chapter Fifteen (#ud4f94784-3498-530f-9a57-525a54920f1f)
Chapter Sixteen (#u5f747f4a-6995-5996-960a-be03277122c0)
Chapter Seventeen (#u69265d72-cd84-5e01-8e56-802c5cf4506b)
Chapter Eighteen (#u3e86bdbf-f2dc-594d-a9a8-efc2921ba029)
Chapter Nineteen (#u082a836d-adb9-5a65-8f18-8f1c0312d586)
Chapter Twenty (#u8206af36-c31d-5406-9475-aa32cc65c18b)
Chapter Twenty-One (#u7c9b7000-571c-5cea-8c87-efa62595fedc)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#u67e746af-cdfe-51e0-9ea4-adc8c5f088da)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#u2f09da2b-164c-5a70-be2a-60226f64bb28)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#ud9f26017-9595-5cd1-9d24-33e2a1710ff8)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#u2f00f9e4-ade7-5d9e-a699-09559ace3dc3)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#uffa56e99-03f1-53d9-91a6-11b87ac1874f)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#u6ac0daa7-a368-50e6-a8fe-f7642c05b1db)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#u20f14f5f-c0d2-5e39-bd3c-9d37706def1a)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#ucbc4de8a-8b69-5247-84ab-aa1267902fe4)
Chapter Thirty (#u982c9b20-3616-5870-8ce6-20e4a4f04c40)
Chapter Thirty-One (#ua5dd4818-13cd-5a4e-bd24-054564bc9918)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#ube23a4f4-42c6-5e21-88fe-f5a029ea76c0)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#ufe5d15c6-ffc4-5873-8c04-d805d61ff9f9)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#u5d9e4951-de49-58f6-a68c-e5f84a91f42f)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#u3773bd7b-70b7-5a1a-b9bf-0ac543255d57)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#u28d5c8d8-c6de-5422-bd3a-7ecfa8652962)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#uda8af425-d45b-54ca-b656-6b107e2dc510)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#u44b324b6-dc27-581a-af3c-14bfb9c279b2)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#u7e5b0fdc-5e55-593a-8800-22a9ea135bb1)
Chapter Forty (#ubd3aa00f-1f25-5841-ac61-90fba979cbe9)
Chapter Forty-One (#uda52aec0-687e-5d37-ae87-5eb9e74381ab)
Epilogue (#u33d913d3-f1dd-5d1d-8578-2b813ec6980e)
Prologue
She looked dead.
For a second Edgar Benton’s heart beat uncontrollably against his chest cavity. When he leaned forward and placed a trembling hand on the exposed arm and felt her warm flesh, a breath of relief seeped out of him. Thank God she wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway, he reminded himself as fresh tears dribbled down his face.
This was the first time he’d seen his daughter since she’d been whisked away to surgery several hours ago. His precious sixteen-year-old lay like a beautiful corpse on the sterile hospital bed. Panic seized him and his knees buckled.
He pulled a chair close to the bed, his eyes never leaving her face. Edgar took several deep gulping breaths, then whispered in a garbled voice, “Please, Kaylee, hang on. I can’t bear to lose you, too.”
No response.
His baby, his only child, remained unmoving and unresponsive. His tears kept coming. What had he, they, done to deserve such an awful tragedy? His twisted, angry face looked toward the ceiling, silently cursing God. He couldn’t fathom how he was going to survive without his wife. As he thought of her lying on a cold slab in a morgue, another onslaught of pain ripped through his gut.
How would he tell his daughter that she might not ever walk again and that her body would always be scarred?
“Oh, God, why?” Deep sobs racked his body.
After realizing he’d cried aloud, Edgar peered at Kaylee to see if the sound had aroused her. It hadn’t. Taking several shuddering breaths, he felt a semblance of rationality return. His daughter was not going to die, not right now anyway. She faced an uncertain future, but at least she was alive.
If only he had been driving instead of Kaylee, who had just gotten her beginner’s license and was testing her moxie behind the wheel for the first time.
If only she’d had more experience, then maybe she could have dodged the car that had barreled through the stop sign as if it owned the road. As it was, Kaylee had plowed into the side of it. His wife, Vera, had died on impact while his daughter had flown through the windshield, her lower extremities ripped to shreds by the broken glass.
If only he had taken the vehicle into the shop and had the seat belt repaired. If he’d taken care of that, the latch might not have popped open. His good intentions would certainly not have prevented the accident, but it might have prevented Kaylee’s serious injuries.
He recalled the investigating officer’s words at the scene of the accident as the paramedics loaded his daughter into the ambulance.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, sir.”
Edgar couldn’t respond, torn between staying with his dead wife and going with his injured daughter.
“It’s one of those freak accidents when neither of your loved ones should have been seriously injured, much less killed,” the officer added.
God, it’s my fault.
“Sir, the ambulance is about to leave.”
Without thinking, Edgar had run toward the vehicle.
Focusing on the moment at hand rather than replay the darkest moment of his life, he sank his head into his hands. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew he had to regain control. He hadn’t been with them, and he couldn’t change that. Even if he had, things would’ve happened in exactly the same way. He would have given in to Kaylee’s plea to drive just as his wife had. Rarely had either of them denied their daughter anything.
Kaylee was a great kid, a popular teenager whose many friends were now gathered in the main waiting area, solemn-faced and afraid. Not only was she well liked, but she was a straight A student and was involved in various school activities. Her favorite was the drill team.
Another sharp pain sliced through Edgar, and his groan deepened. If what the doctor said turned out to be the truth, then she would never perform again, never strut her stuff, as she was fond of saying in order to get a reaction out of him.
He could hear her teasing words and see her rolling her eyes as he pretended to be perturbed with her choice of words. It was a silly but fun game they played.
Another stab of pain took his breath even as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Mr. Benton.”
Edgar jerked his head around and squinted up at Dr. Chester Wainright, the surgeon who had only hours before operated on his baby, putting the pieces of her broken body back together. He was a tall, dark-haired, dark-complexioned young man who was as competent as he was good-looking.
“Are you all right?”
Before Edgar could force a reply, the doctor went on, “Sorry. Forget I asked that. Of course you’re not all right.”
Edgar rose to his full six-foot-plus height and ran a hand through his thinning dark hair while he blinked the tears from his eyes. He was only forty-two; before this morning that had seemed so young. Now, in light of how his life had been turned upside down, he felt like an old, old man.
“Is Kaylee going to be all right?” His voice croaked like a bullfrog before he cleared it.
“How ’bout we step outside,” the doctor said, shifting aside for Edgar to precede him.
Once they were in a small adjacent waiting area, Dr. Wainright didn’t waste any words. “Your daughter is going to live.”
“But?” Edgar knew there was more to come, and it wouldn’t be good. He felt himself visibly flinch.
Wainright sighed. “You’re right. There is a but. She won’t ever be one hundred percent.”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Doc. Spit it out. Will she walk again?”
This time Wainright didn’t so much as blink. “If she does, it won’t be without a significant limp. And perhaps a leg brace. Her right pelvic bone was crushed and she suffered a multitude of internal injuries. I anticipate some scarring in that area, disfiguring her.”
The room reeled, and for a moment Edgar thought he might retch.
“Please, Mr. Benton, do me a favor. Sit, then put your head down.”
Minutes later Edgar felt the room right itself; then he whispered, “What…what about a family? Children?”
Dr. Wainright hesitated. “It’s a good possibility that she will never have children.”
A cry erupted from Edgar’s lips, a cry that was reminiscent of a howl.
He felt the doctor’s hand once again squeeze his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head, unashamed of the tears running down his face. “My baby’s alive and that’s all that counts.”
“That it is.” The doctor cleared his throat, then went on in an exhausted voice, “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but as Kaylee’s doctor, I recommend she get counseling while she undergoes intense physical therapy.” He paused as if unsure how to continue. “Her life as she knew it will be no longer.”
“Oh, God.” Edgar ground out the words, rubbing the back of his tight neck with an unsteady hand. “I can’t bear the thought of her not walking again.”
“Yes, you can,” the doctor said in a stern tone. “If that’s the way it is, you have no choice. You have to be there for her and you have to be strong.”
Edgar took a heaving gulp. “I know.”
The doctor stood. Edgar followed suit, their eyes locking once again.
“I’ll be back later to check on you both,” Wainright said. “Kaylee will sleep for most of the remainder of the day, so don’t get worried.”
Edgar blew out a harsh breath. “And when she wakes up, I—” He couldn’t go on. His vocal cords constricted, shutting off further words.
“When she wakes up, you will have to tell her the truth, but only if she asks.”
Edgar nodded. “Knowing her, she’ll ask.”
“Then you level with her.”
Edgar nodded again, feeling his throat constrict even more. Once he was alone, he straightened his shoulders and walked back into Kaylee’s room. For the longest time he stood beside her bed while wave after wave of anger, pain and remorse swept through him.
He finally got control of his emotions and sat beside her. Yet the words were so hard to come by. Reaching for her hand, he whispered, “No matter what happens, I’ll never let you down again.”
Suddenly his heart leaped. She had squeezed his hand. God had not deserted him. He had been given a second chance and he would make the most of it.
One
Sixteen years later
Man, did he ever have a great tush.
The way he swaggered when he walked merely accentuated it, and the white shirt, boots and tight jeans added style.
She figured he was an uninvited guest, as no one else at the party was dressed so casually. No one she knew would dare. This man was either a country bumpkin who didn’t know any better or he had so much self-confidence he didn’t give a rip.
If she were placing a bet, she’d opt for the latter. He seemed to be totally at ease with himself and his surroundings.
For a moment Kaylee Benton was held utterly captive by this stranger’s rear—a first for her. Oh, she’d admired men’s looks and physique, but never had she been blatantly fascinated by a specific body part.
Suddenly realizing where her mind was and what she was doing, Kaylee was about to look away, when his gaze locked with hers.
She had seen movies and read books where two people met and eyes held across a room—but never had such a thing happened to her. Swallowing, she jerked her head around. Her cheeks and body suddenly stung.
Thankfully she realized that she was alone. At least she could regain her composure without an explanation. Taking several slow, deliberate breaths, she still found it hard not to sneak another peek at the man with the great tush.
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself just as her insides settled back to normal. This was so out of character for her. It was bizarre behavior.
Dismissing the entire episode from her mind, Kaylee concentrated on the party around her. It was given in her honor at The Garden Room of the luxury hotel in the heart of down-town Houston. The room was abuzz with the sound of voices, laughter and music, and redolent with the smell of flowers flowing from the glassed-in section out onto the patio.
Kaylee certainly wasn’t immune. She took great pleasure in the fragrances that encircled her, inhaling the scent from time to time. The shindig had been in full swing two hours and this was the first moment she hadn’t been surrounded by people.
She loved being the center of attention. Being named Woman of the Year was an honor as intoxicating as the strong floral scent. Yet she was grateful for the respite. It wouldn’t last long, she knew, since one of her models had just gone to refill her glass of wine.
She was used to having people constantly being in her face, especially beautiful people like those who now milled about. After all, she made her living off beauty. She had successfully launched a modeling agency several years ago, an accomplishment that hadn’t been easy, especially since her idea had come under attack from the beginning. Her critics had told her she was crazy to think that an agency such as she envisioned would ever get off the ground in Houston, Texas. New York City, yes. Houston, no.
Thank goodness she hadn’t listened to the naysayers. If she had, she’d probably be an embittered young woman chasing a dream that could never be.
Kaylee’s gaze strayed to the cane that lay on the floor beside her. Even after all these years, her heart still constricted with pain when she saw it. She quickly reminded herself that even though she would never walk the walk, she had proved she could talk the talk. Her business was booming, a fact that the chamber of commerce had recognized. The ache in her heart eased.
“Hey, where’s your devoted audience?”
Kaylee looked on as her friend and assistant, Sandy Nelson, plopped down in the chair next to her, a smile creasing her face right along with a devilish twinkle in her blue eyes. She was a tall, busty woman with, as Sandy described it, a widening ass and a mop of curly black hair that capped her head like a crown.
Kaylee adored her and knew the feeling was mutual. They made an awesome team. Without Sandy, Kaylee’s career wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it was today, because Sandy had an eye for who could enter the highly competitive world of modeling and survive, a gift that she, Kaylee, lacked.
“Barbie is getting me a refill,” she said, breaking the momentary silence.
“You’re probably enjoying the peace and quiet. You’ve been covered up all evening. I know how squirrelly that makes you sometimes.”
Kaylee quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “It’s scary how well you know me.”
“Not to worry.” Sandy grinned as she reached over and touched Kaylee on the arm. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
“I know.” Suddenly a lump appeared in Kaylee’s throat and she didn’t know why.
As if she sensed the poignancy of the moment, Sandy switched the subject. “This is some blowout, my friend.”
Kaylee acknowledged her statement with a grin. “That it is. I still can’t believe it’s happening to me…to us.”
“Whoa, there’s no us to it. Tonight is all about you and your successful career. Just wallow in it up to your tonsils.”
Kaylee smiled with a sigh. “You know that’s hard for me to do.”
“Get over it. Being in the spotlight for one evening is hardly lethal.”
Kaylee laughed. “What would I do without you to keep me on the straight and narrow?”
Sandy laughed with her, then cocked her head sideways, a light appearing in her eyes.
“What?” Kaylee asked.
“You look great tonight. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look better.”
Kaylee was taken aback. “You think so?”
“I know so. Your skin has a flush to it. In fact, your cheeks look like a ripe peach.”
Giggling, Kaylee rolled her eyes. “That’s gagging.”
“It’s the truth. Is there something going on I don’t know about?”
Kaylee froze as thoughts of that stranger’s ass came to mind. Grappling to regain her composure, she looked down and pretended to smooth a wrinkle out of her gown.
“And the gold in your brown hair, I’ve never seen it shine so much.”
“Now I know I’m going to throw up.”
“How dare you make a joke out of my compliments.”
“Get out of here,” Kaylee ordered with another laugh.
“I can take a hint.” Sandy squeezed Kaylee on the shoulder. “See ya later, my dear.”
Her assistant had barely disappeared into a throng of people when Kaylee looked up and saw Barbie Bishop headed toward her. The model wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was none other than the cowboy Kaylee had eyed earlier.
Despite her efforts to remain calm, Kaylee’s heartbeat quickened. Surely Barbie would detour any second now and bypass her she told herself. But the two never veered off track. Before Kaylee could find her next breath, they were in front of her.
“Kaylee, my friend here wanted to meet you.” Barbie looked at her companion before turning her gaze back to Kaylee. “Kaylee Benton, Cutler McFarland.”
Though she was loath to do so, she held out her hand. When his calloused one took hers briefly, a tingle shot up her arm. She didn’t understand what was going on.
“I’m honored,” he said in a low, drawling voice, his eyes inspecting the length of her even though she remained seated.
Sex personified.
“Thank you, Mr. McFarland.”
“Make it Cutler.”
She nodded, feeling the flush deepen in her cheeks.
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Barbie said in her shrill voice, setting the glass of wine down before she strolled off.
Kaylee could cheerfully have strangled the model.
For the longest time neither said a word. Then someone came up to Cutler and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to speak to the man, Kaylee took the opportunity to give the cowboy the once-over. Up close, the front view fell short of the back one.
He ought to have been pretty-boy good-looking. But his features were too harsh for that. Even so, he oozed charisma and sex appeal. He was tall and thin with just the right amount of muscle. His black hair was streaked with silver and his blue eyes were surrounded by dark sooty lashes.
“Would you care to dance?”
Kaylee gave a start, worried she’d been caught staring. That fear actually took precedence over the fact that he hadn’t noticed her cane. “No…no, thank you.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not.”
As if he read between the lines, a grin, more in keeping with a smirk, crept across Cutler’s lips. He eased down in the chair in front of her and said, “I understand congratulations are in order. Sorry I wasn’t here when you received the award.”
“Thanks.” Could he see her heart beating out of sync? She hoped not. That would be the final humiliation.
His lips twitched again. “Relax, Kaylee, I’m harmless.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
He chuckled. “It’s obvious you wish I’d get lost.”
Kaylee opened her mouth to deny his words, but when nothing came out, she tightened her lips.
His chuckle sounded like a low rumble.
Who was this man anyway? And where had he come from?
Once again he seemed to read her mind. “It’s my job to read people. If not, I wouldn’t be a very good district attorney.”
Her eyes widened again. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“That smarts, since I’m running for reelection.”
“Are you drumming up votes?” she asked bluntly.
“I like your style—direct and to the point.”
“Is that a yes?”
He laughed. “I’m the best man for the job.”
“How do I know that?”
His eyes drilled her, and his voice dropped a pitch. “You don’t, but you will as soon as you get to know me better.”
Kaylee sucked in her breath. Was he flirting with her? No, her imagination must be working overtime.
“Look, Mr. McFarland—”
“Cutler.”
His gaze didn’t waver and for a moment hers didn’t either.
“Excuse me for interrupting, Kaylee, but I have some people I want you to meet.”
The voice of the chamber president, Kevin Holmes, brought her back to reality with a jolt. Cutler suddenly stood and moved aside. Pulling her gaze off him, she forced a smile. “I’d be delighted to meet your friends.”
“McFarland, you’re welcome to remain,” Kevin said. “In fact, I insist.”
“Thanks, but I was just leaving,” Cutler said. “I’ve taken up enough of Kaylee’s time.” Then he leaned down and, for her ears alone, he murmured, “I’ll see you later.”
Feeling shell-shocked, all she could do was watch him stride off.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Yet he had no choice. What he was witnessing was a fact. He’d put his hand on the Bible and swear to it. His daughter was actually having a conversation with a good-looking man and seemingly enjoying it.
Hell, if the animated look on her face was anything to judge by, flirting would be closer to the truth. Edgar’s pulse raced and his palms turned sweaty. He’d prayed for this day since his precious daughter had awakened in that hospital room so many years ago and was forced to face the cruelest of futures.
Kaylee had more than risen to the challenges that faced her. Tonight was testimony to that. He was so proud of her he felt his heart would burst.
The man Kaylee seemed interested in looked vaguely familiar; however, Edgar knew he’d never met him. More important, he wondered what his motives were. Those questions and more filled Edgar’s head.
He straightened his slumping shoulders and moved slightly closer, allowing the partygoers to shield him so Kaylee wouldn’t notice his hovering. Yet he remained out of her vision more for his own personal benefit than hers.
Just watching her happiness made him giddy.
Edgar moved a little to his left for a better look at the man. Or should he say cowboy? Edgar almost laughed out loud at the idea that his daughter would give someone in jeans and boots even a second glance, especially at a black tie function.
Then just as quickly as the flirtation began, it ended. The cowboy relinquished his seat to others.
“Damn,” Edgar muttered under his breath.
He had to do something. But what? He couldn’t force the man not to leave his daughter, for God’s sake. Ah, all was not lost. Tomorrow was another day. A day to devise a plan.
That thought brought him more than comfort. It shot his excitement level off the charts.
Two
What an incredible morning.
Kaylee had risen early, much earlier than normal, and brewed a pot of coffee. With cup in hand, she had adjourned to the patio and sat in one of her padded wrought-iron chairs. That had been over an hour ago now, and she still hadn’t the wherewithal to move.
That in itself was unusual. Even before she’d opened the agency she had been an early riser, energized whether she’d slept or not. She didn’t want to miss one moment of any day, her subconscious continually whispering that sleep was a waste of precious time.
Kaylee inhaled the fresh scent in the air. It was as clean as the dew that covered the ground. Turning slightly, she got a whiff of the wisteria blossoms draped on a nearby bush. She breathed even deeper. The fragrance was heaven-sent, like none other. Her gaze drifted to the rosebush on the other side. Although she couldn’t smell it, she knew she only had to press her nose against one of the blooms and its sweetness would also swamp her senses.
Her small backyard was lovely, but then she’d worked hard to make it so—she and the nursery, that is. She couldn’t keep her yard in this shape by herself, although she would’ve loved nothing better. Her taxing career, not to mention her physical limitations, made that impossible. She did what she could when she could, which helped keep her in shape.
She had bought this old home in West University Place, an upscale but older section of the city, even though her dad had discouraged her from making such a bold and aggressive move. He thought it would be too much for her to keep up, but she hadn’t listened. Though he was her best ally and cheerleader, he never let her forget that she was handicapped, a fact that could fester if she let it.
He had wanted her to continue to live in the house with him where she had grown up. But she had desperately wanted her own space. She needed to stake her independence in order to keep her sanity. After all, she was handicapped, not dysfunctional.
Edgar now admitted that Kaylee had proved him wrong once again. He was so proud of her, of what she had accomplished and was continuing to achieve. Her father wasn’t her only avid supporter. Her godfather, Drew Rush, her dad’s longtime friend and employer, had always encouraged her to push the envelope, so to speak.
Without his monetary help and his endorsements, Benton Modeling Agency wouldn’t be in existence today. While she might not have a husband, she certainly had two strong men in her life for whom she was grateful.
Suddenly a bird chirped loudly in a nearby tree. Kaylee listened to his melodious music, and smiled. In that same tree two squirrels were playing tag. She concentrated on them until they jumped to another limb and disappeared into the lush foliage of the live oak tree.
Lifting her head, she searched for a puff of clouds. Nary a one was visible. The sky was azure blue and the sun was well on its way to full strength.
This was a great way to start a morning.
Soon, though, she was going to have to stop lollygagging, dress and get to the office. But not just now. She guessed it was only around seven-thirty, which gave her plenty of time to continue down this path of indulgence and still not be late.
She smiled again. She could be late if she wanted, she reminded herself. After all, she was the boss. For a second that thought made Kaylee giddy. She still couldn’t believe she’d been honored in such a fantastic way. She had enjoyed every minute of it, too, even though she had been exhausted when she’d crawled into bed around midnight.
She couldn’t complain. Life was good right now, and Kaylee had learned early to treasure such moments. After nearly losing her life at such a young age, nothing had ever been the same and she never wasted one precious moment.
That thinking gave her all the more reason not to waste one second contemplating a particular man. Her heart did a sudden somersault as she admitted to herself that she had thought about that cowboy off and on all night.
Unsettling?
Absolutely.
Crazy?
Absolutely.
A waste of time?
Absolutely.
Lethal.
Absolutely.
So why couldn’t she get him off her mind?
She couldn’t answer that. All she knew was that she didn’t want to think about any man, not in that context, anyway. But then Cutler McFarland wasn’t just any man.
Under no circumstances could she label him average. After meeting him, she thought he would be better suited to have been born in the early eighteen hundreds. She could see him with a holster and gun strapped to his waist and thigh, defending justice at all cost.
That picture forced a chuckle from Kaylee’s lips; but she saw no humor in her thoughts. She was just setting herself up for trouble and heartache, neither of which she could afford. Only since her agency had taken off had she felt like a whole woman, as if she wasn’t different from the average female walking the streets.
Now was not the time to let a man, especially a man’s man, the kind she could never have, undermine her happiness.
When she had first looked at her scarred stomach, the result of a trek across jagged glass, she had been repulsed. But over the years, and after several plastic surgeries, she could now bear the sight. But she couldn’t stand the thought of a man seeing it. She’d built an impenetrable wall that hadn’t failed her until she’d noticed Cutler McFarland’s great tush.
The fact that he appeared taken with her hadn’t helped any. Still, the minute he noticed her leg, she knew she’d see pity replace interest. She couldn’t handle that. So any further thoughts of that cowboy were taboo.
“You can dodge this bullet, Kaylee Benton,” she said to the tiny wren who perched on a sagging wisteria limb. Only something that small could light on such a flimsy place and be safe, she thought with inane desperation.
Her verbal warning did no good. Her mind settled back on Cutler and wouldn’t let go. Had he been as attracted to her as she had been to him? His gaze had held a special gleam, one she had never noticed in a man’s eye, though she was certainly no expert on men. Relationships had never been in the cards for her, nor could she have explored any had they been. She’d been too busy trying to put her body and soul back together and trying to craft a life for herself outside the handicapped world.
She hated the word handicapped, but she despised the new socially correct “special needs” term even more. She didn’t want to think of herself as special in any way. Or needy. She just wanted to be thought of as normal.
Unfortunately, that often became impossible, even for her.
When she got tired and her leg refused to function, she had to depend on her leg brace. That was when she noticed the pitying glances. They gagged her now just as they had so many years ago.
Suddenly Kaylee found herself traveling back in time to that fateful day when she had awakened from surgery to find her dad sitting beside her bed, his face twisted and drenched with tears.
“Daddy, where am I?” she remembered asking in a weak, trembling voice.
“In the hospital, baby.”
“Why?”
“There’s been an accident,” he choked out. “Don’t you remember?”
She thought for a moment, then said, “No. What happened?”
“You just got out of surgery.”
“Is that why I hurt so badly?”
“Are you in pain?”
“My leg—”
“I’ll call the nurse.” He punched the button on the side of the bed.
“How bad am I injured?”
“Oh, God, baby—” Edgar’s voice broke and he couldn’t go on.
“Tell me, Daddy.”
He must have heard the panic in her voice, because he blurted out the words that changed her forever. “You had a wreck and hurt yourself real bad.”
“Mom? Mom was with me, wasn’t she?” When he didn’t answer, Kaylee went on, her voice in the shrill range. “Wasn’t she?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Where is she now? Why isn’t she here with me?”
Edgar put his head down and sobbed.
“Daddy,” she cried, placing a hand on his head and burying it in his hair. “Where’s Mom?”
“She can’t be here, baby,” he sobbed.
“Why not?”
“She…she didn’t make it.”
At first those horrible words didn’t penetrate, so she asked, “What do you mean?”
“She’s…she’s dead, baby. Your mother died on impact.”
“No!” Kaylee let out a wail that sounded like a wounded animal’s cry.
Edgar raised himself just enough to fold her in his arms, his chest absorbing the brunt of her sobs.
“I want my mother,” she cried over and over. “I want my mother. I want my mother….”
It was fresh tears falling on her arm that brought Kaylee back to reality. She raised her head and struggled to swallow the huge lump lodged in her throat. Dear Lord, she hadn’t taken that stroll down memory lane in years. But whenever she did, it racked her body and soul, rendering her useless for hours, days, even weeks.
This time was no exception. She felt spent, utterly drained and so depressed that she wanted to curl into a fetal position in the closet and say to hell with the world and everyone in it.
She wouldn’t do that. Pity parties where she was the only one in attendance were another part of her past that no longer existed, but she knew that hadn’t always been the case. Once she had gotten over the shock of her mother’s death, she’d had to deal with another shock—her broken body.
And guilt. Even though the accident hadn’t technically been her fault—the other driver had been charged—she had nonetheless borne the responsibility of causing her mother’s death.
That, combined with the fact she would never be a vibrant sixteen-year-old turning cartwheels and dancing at will, had turned her into a monster, especially after her daddy had told her that she might not walk again and would definitely suffer permanent scarring on the lower half of her body.
Kaylee didn’t realize she was no longer alone until she turned and saw her father standing behind the French doors watching her. Knowing it was too late to mask her tears, she motioned for him to join her.
Once he was outside, he walked over and silently pulled her into his arms.
“I’m so glad to see you, Daddy,” she whispered, clinging to him as tightly as she had done so many times in the past.
“You’re still my baby and you can always count on me.”
Three
Cutler’s desk was piled high with files and folders.
He looked at them, feeling a knot form in the pit of his stomach. If he didn’t get off his ass things were going to start unraveling. He couldn’t afford that. Not in an election year.
Not in any year. His high standard of ethics wouldn’t allow it.
As he peered at his calendar, a sigh split Cutler’s lips. Two major cases were on the trial docket, cases that even his top assistant wasn’t up to prosecuting. That responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders.
Both were controversial, with the potential to explode, and that was precisely why he had to be perfectly prepared. Losing was not something that interested him. When he walked into a courtroom, he expected to walk out a winner. He would accept nothing less.
Cutler glanced at his watch. He and Angel were due to meet as soon as he made it to the office. Too bad he hadn’t told his prime investigator to meet him early, but he knew Angel wasn’t in the best of moods first thing in the morning. Besides, it was barely seven and all his staff worked more nights than not. Ergo, he needed to cut them some slack. That was hard, because he required very little sleep.
Coffee could take most of the credit for that, Cutler reminded himself. Thinking of coffee made him realize he hadn’t taken advantage of the pot he’d brewed minutes after he’d walked into the office. He’d had several cups at home, but those didn’t count. He was just getting started.
Moments later, back from the kitchenette, mug in hand, Cutler sat behind his desk. The paperwork hadn’t lessened any, he noticed with a smirk. After sipping on the hot liquid, he leaned back in his chair, lifted his arms above his head and stretched.
Man, he was tired. No sleep and long hours were telling on him, something he couldn’t let happen. He had to be razor sharp mentally because he knew a shark was circling, a shark that was after his blood.
During his tenure as district attorney, Cutler had made more than his share of enemies, one of whom, his current opponent, Winston Gilmore, was a high-profile attorney from an old established family with big mouths and big dollars. Gilmore was known to be abrasive, self-confident and into mudslinging.
No matter.
Cutler was more than ready to take him on. He had earned a reputation for his own brand of hard-ass volatility. He’d been accused of being so self-assured he wouldn’t listen to others. His own head of Major Crimes, Mike Snelling, had told him that to his face. He couldn’t argue with him.
He liked to think that he merely approached everything with the grit and determination that eventually brought justice to all. For that Cutler would make no apologies regardless of whether he was reelected. He’d be devastated if he wasn’t, but no one would ever know, not even his mother.
He’d started out as a cop before attending law school, then had spent several years practicing criminal law, and his determination had catapulted him to the office of district attorney.
If he lost this election, Cutler knew he could always go back to practicing law, but he didn’t want to do that. He had grown to respect, if not actually enjoy, his job and he wanted desperately to hold on to it. According to his mother, he’d sacrificed a home and family for the people, which was only partly true.
Although he’d been with a lot of women, he’d never found one with whom he thought he could spend the rest of his life. That included his present significant other, Julia Freeman. He cared about her as a friend, though he wasn’t positive that was her perception of their relationship despite his candor on the subject. When he needed a woman on his arm for social purposes, he chose Julia.
It would take a special woman to put up with him, and he knew it. Until last night he hadn’t met anyone he felt the desire to sleep with.
Kaylee Benton had set his heart racing, and he was still thinking about her.
He hadn’t had that reaction to a female in ages. But there was something about Kaylee that had intrigued him from the moment his blue eyes had locked with her large brown ones.
He was used to appraising stares from the opposite sex, and he was aware that he was thought of as a player in the singles arena. But there was something different about Kaylee and her eyes. She had touched him on a deeper level.
Had he detected sadness reflected in her expression when they had met face-to-face? Whatever melancholy she might have been feeling, Cutler immediately recognized one classy lady, someone more striking than drop-dead gorgeous, in both looks and personality.
Perhaps it was the dimple in her right cheek that had revved his engine. Perhaps it was her body, although he hadn’t seen her standing. His instinct assured him that wouldn’t be necessary. She was nipped in all the right places. And for someone with such a lithe figure, she was amply endowed.
In his opinion, she would light up a runway more than any of the models who worked for her, and he assumed she had been a model herself. Her unblemished skin, high cheekbones and shoulder-length golden-brown hair were dazzling features.
Down, boy, he warned himself. Now was not the time to get seriously involved with a woman, not when his life was already on maximum overload. On the other hand, maybe a relationship was exactly what he needed to take the edge off his overstressed mind and body.
For a moment he considered turning to the computer and running a background check on her.
Nah.
If she was a woman he wanted to know better, even on a short-term basis, and she was, then it was better to slowly unwrap the package and savor its contents.
“You got a moment?”
Startled at the unexpected interruption, Cutler barely managed not to show his surprise. And disgust. He’d rather start his day biting into a wormy apple than cross paths with this man.
Mike Snelling, head of Major Crimes Division, was a royal pain in the ass, and had been from day one of Cutler’s term in office. He and Mike had crossed swords from the start, and he didn’t see that changing. Whatever Cutler said, Mike would argue the opposite.
Yet he’d have to give the devil his due. Snelling was damn competent and when push came to shove, Cutler could depend on him. That was why he curbed the urge to deck him every time he opened his mouth.
“What’s up?” Cutler finally asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Mike, who was short and round with ears that protruded far too much, ambled toward one of the vacant chairs in front of the massive desk, sat down and took a deep breath. That short trek had clearly winded him. Cutler wanted to point that out, but that would be like tossing a lighted cigarette butt on a puddle of gasoline.
“I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing,” Snelling said without mincing words.
What a pompous prick. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”
“I’m referring to Judge Jenkins,” Snelling pressed.
“I know that.”
“My advice is to back off.”
Cutler squinted his eyes. “I don’t recall asking for your advice.”
“I know you two butt heads in court like angry bulls,” Snelling went on as though Cutler hadn’t spoken. “Everyone knows that, but to blatantly open an investigation against him is preposterous, if not suicidal.”
“Thanks for that assessment.”
“Just because he’s overturned several of your cases doesn’t give you the right to go for his jugular. There’s such a thing as evidence.”
Cutler narrowed his eyes and strengthened his voice. “I’m not going to take that as an insult, Snelling. Not this time, anyway.”
Snelling flushed, but didn’t make a comeback. Good call, Cutler thought.
Following a terse silence, Snelling asked, “Give me something tangible to work with.”
“What I have is suspicion. It’s your job to get the evidence.”
This time it was Snelling who looked as if he’d bitten into a worm. “I’m listening.”
“Angel and I have noticed a pattern in Jenkins’s dismissals. Not just mine, either, though mine were slam dunks for sure.”
“You’re saying he’s taking bribes.”
“That’s my guess.”
“How?”
“Several of the dismissals were good-looking women….” Cutler purposely let his voice fade.
Snelling looked shocked. “Are you saying he’s trading dismissals for sex?”
“Maybe, maybe not. What I am saying is that the bastard has something going, and I aim to find out what it is.”
“He’s a powerful man, Cutler, one who has the power to knock your dick in the dirt with one hand tied behind him.”
“That thought ought to make your day.”
“I don’t know why I try to reason with you.” Snelling’s tone was testy.
“Look, I’m going to get the judge, one way or the other.” Cutler’s features were grim. “Your job is to help me.”
“As head of Major Crimes, I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“He’s going to sink you, cost you the election,” Snelling stressed.
“Then so be it.” Cutler clenched his jaw. “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”
“Maybe I should come back later.”
Talk about timing. Cutler could cheerfully have gotten up and hugged Angel Martinez’s neck for opening the door enough to get his head through it. “Come on in. Mike was just leaving.”
“You haven’t heard the last of this, McFarland,” Snelling said, stomping to the door, then slamming it behind him.
“Why don’t you two put on gloves, climb in a ring and get at it?”
Cutler grinned for a second. “Not a bad idea.”
Angel just shook his head as he made his way farther into the room. He was dark haired and white skinned. His name was the only thing that labeled him Mexican-American. Still, he was proud of his heritage even though he’d never set foot in Mexico, having been born and reared in Houston.
He was good-looking, a truly decent guy and a competent investigator. Cutler didn’t know what he would do without him. Angel’s calm demeanor and sound advice had saved his ass on many occasions.
“So what’s got Snelling up in arms this time?”
“The judge.”
“He thinks we can’t nail him.”
Cutler noticed that Angel made a plain statement of fact. “You agree?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yep.”
A short silence.
“Let me put it this way,” Angel said. “When you make up your mind to get someone, judge or not, my money’s on you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Angel snorted. “As if you ever doubted.”
“I never take anything or anyone for granted. You should know that.”
“If Major Crimes can get the evidence on Jenkins, then I can prosecute.” Angel paused, then changed the subject. “From the looks of your desk, we’re drowning.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“So let’s get started.”
Cutler opened the first file and groaned. When he would’ve chucked it aside, Angel shook his head. “No choosing favorites. We have to take them as they come. Let’s hear it.”
Cutler blew out his breath. “It’s the Sessions case.”
Angel visibly winced. “It’s cases like this one that make me want to take this job and shove it. How any woman can drown her three kids in the bathtub is more than my mind can comprehend.”
“Me, too. In fact, I could vomit right about now.”
“To make matters worse, she’ll probably get off on an insanity plea.” Angel paused. “You know her husband’s hired Arthur Beaumont.”
“No, dammit, I didn’t.”
“If anyone can get her off, it’s that double-dealin’ son of a bitch.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Cutler said, a violent edge to his voice. “Not as long as I’m upright and breathing, that is.”
“Then we’d best put our heads together and plan our strategy.”
For the next hour they made significant progress depleting the stack. Once Angel left, Cutler helped himself to another cup of coffee, went over some files with his secretary and then buried himself in more files.
The growl of his stomach told him the day was more than half gone. Pushing away from his desk, Cutler rubbed the back of his shoulders, trying to get rid of the burning sensation in his muscles.
He needed a break, but he needed to continue to work, as well. He was surprised that Julia hadn’t called him, asking him over for dinner. He wouldn’t go anyway. Dinner with her didn’t appeal to him.
Without weighing the consequences of his actions, he reached for the phone and called his favorite florist. Then he dialed Information. “Benton Modeling Agency, please.”
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