Fight For Me (20 page)

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Authors: Hayden Braeburn

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #romance series, #the everetts of tyler, #hayden braeburn

BOOK: Fight For Me
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Just like
that?”


Does it have to be
difficult? Do you think she'll slam the door in your
face?”

She might. And there was the small detail of
her brothers to deal with as well. “You don't happen to know where
she is right now, do you?”

The detective smiled. “Of course I do.”

~*~


How goes the house hunt?”
J.D. asked as he stepped into Cassidy's office.

She hadn't been motivated to buy anything,
even though her insurance money had come through. Nowhere she
looked was really where she wanted to be, but Dylan's home in the
woods wasn't for sale, and he certainly wasn't asking her to move
back in. “Okay, I guess.”


That good,
eh?”


Something like that.” She
closed her eyes against the pain. “It's been two weeks. I should
decide on something soon.”

J.D. tilted his head, a smile tipping his
lips. “Caleb getting tired of you?”

She tossed up her hands. “Who would know?
He's never home. If his place weren't so beige, I might feel at
home.”


Beige? What's wrong with
beige?”

Men. “It was obviously painted in neutral
tones to sell, and he's never changed a thing.”


Maybe he likes
it.”


Uh-huh. Everyone loves
multiple shades of tan.” She focused on her brother's one
shortcoming, fully aware she was redirecting from her own glaring
issues. “He's lived there for nearly four years, and he hasn't
picked up a paintbrush.”


Or a phone to hire a
designer. I was happy with Michelle Guthrie's work.” He gave her an
exaggerated wink. “The ladies never complain.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “God, J.D.,
why do you think you're funny?”


Cheered you up, didn't
it?” he asked, flashing her his lady-killer grin before sailing out
the door.

She could always count on J.D. for a laugh,
an idea, an insight, anything really. Why couldn't she have fallen
in love with him instead of a huge lumberjack of a man who felt
betrayed when she'd tried to protect him from a madman? She pinched
the bridge of her nose, blew out a long breath. It was over. She'd
fallen hard and fast against her better judgment, and now she was a
mess. For the third time today she blinked back tears. She wanted
to see Dylan, talk to him, beg him to change his mind. She put her
head down on her desk. She might love him, but she would not beg.
Tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to
suck it up and move on, but she didn't know how.

She ignored her work and everything else on
her desk for a while, leaving her forehead against the cool wood
until she heard heavy footfalls outside her door. Her heart leaped
in her chest as she listened before she shoved the thought away.
Dylan wouldn't be here, not at nine on a Friday night. Who was she
kidding? He would never be here. He'd written her off, walked away
after saving her life God knew how many times. The footsteps
stopped at her door, and she refused to lift her head, sure it had
to be security shooing her out, instead pretending it was Dylan
here to make amends. If she kept her eyes closed, she could always
pretend.


I know I should go,” she
said, her voice muffled by her desk. “I'll go home soon, I
promise.”


I hope so,” came the
quiet reply and her heart stopped. “I miss you, Cassie.”

She lifted her head slowly, afraid she was
dreaming, hallucinating, wishing. When she finally opened her eyes,
Dylan was standing before her, an expectant look on his incredible
face. “You don't have any idea how much I miss you,” she croaked
through the tears that had started flowing as soon as she'd heard
his voice.

He pushed her chair away from the desk,
dropping to his knees at her feet. “I need you, Cassie. Come
home.”


I wasn't the one who
left. Not really. Not ever. Thinking about doing something and
doing it are different.”

He swept away her tears with his thumbs, his
big hands cradling her face. “I was wrong, darlin'. I was angry
with you for puttin' yourself in danger, the terror of almost
losin' you fresh in my mind.” He kissed her softly. “I told you
that I would die for you, kill for you, fight for you, and I would,
I did, and I have.” He paused. “You almost died because you wanted
to protect me when Archer took you, and again when the ceilin' was
cavin' in.”

She couldn't do anything besides nod and
cry, all the words she wanted to say backed up in her throat, so
she leaned forward to join their mouths. The kiss was one of
healing, reconciliation, of love. “I love you,” she murmured when
she broke the kiss.


Come home with me. Let us
love each other, protect each other, bicker, fight, and entertain
the hell out of each other forever.”

She stared into his golden eyes.
“Forever?”


Marry me, Cassie.
Whenever you're ready.” He wiped more tears, different tears, from
her cheeks. “I walked away from you once because I was hurt and
angry and a judgmental asshole. I'm never walkin' away from you
again unless you send me out that door.”


I would never send you
away.” She took a deep breath. “I love you, I want to marry you, I
want to be mother to your children. I want everything.”


My world, my life, my
love, my future is yours.”

What amazing words. “And mine, yours.”

 

Epilogue

Dylan walked into the hospital behind his
wife, his mind still boggled by the last few months. When he'd come
to her office that Friday night, he'd promised he'd wait for her to
decide when they should marry, and he had—until she'd told him
about the baby. There was no way he was waiting after that, and
together with Carolyn, she'd planned a wedding in weeks. God, she'd
been gorgeous, her strapless dress hugging her curves, her
reddish-brown hair piled on top of her head and threaded through
with flowers.

He smiled to himself, watching her perfect
behind in her gray suit. She'd never fit into that snug dress now,
but she'd never been more beautiful. Dr. Melton estimated she'd
been pregnant during her ordeal with Archer, so early in her
pregnancy that being beaten so severely hadn't affected her badly,
but Cassie insisted it wasn't until their moment in the hospital
bed. He didn't care either way, he just wanted her to take it easy,
cut back on her case load a bit. Working fifty hours a week wasn't
healthy for an expectant mother, and he told her as much on a daily
basis.

He knew she loved her job, loved putting
away the bad guys, and he understood—he'd loved it, too. After days
of answering questions pertaining to his shoot-out with Archer,
he'd been offered jobs at the FBI, ATF, and Trent, McKenna &
Buchanan, and with a lot of deliberation he'd chosen the latter.
The flexibility of the private sector appealed to him, and he'd
requested he be assigned more research, strategy, and security
instead of straight bodyguard type duties. He enjoyed the work
designing security systems for the rich and famous, including his
new in-laws rebuilt estate.

He followed his wife toward Dr. Melton's
office, spotting his brother-in-law in what looked to be a serious
conversation with Haleigh Carlisle. The physical therapist had what
could only be described as a dreamy look on her pretty face,
seemingly enraptured by whatever Caleb was saying. He chuckled
before leaning forward to whisper in Cassie's ear, “Looks like
little brother has a new member of the fan club.”

She stopped walking and focused on the pair.
“They look good together, don't they?”

He guessed they did. Haleigh was an
attractive woman, and Caleb certainly wasn't a troll. “Sure.” He
glanced at the couple again to see Caleb lean into Haleigh, placing
a hand against the wall. “He'd better treat her right.”


That's my brother you're
talking about there,” Cassie laughingly warned.

Caleb was a good man, but he had a
reputation as a player. He really didn't think his brother-in-law
was a bad guy, but he didn't have much in the way of time, and a
lot of women had tried and failed to keep his attention. “And she's
the reason my arm works.”

Cassie giggled at his description of his
physical therapist. “They're both adults. I'm sure they'll figure
it out.”

He remembered his question to Haleigh six
months ago now about the man who had hurt her, and hoped Caleb was
not only ready to treat her like the special woman she was, but
deal with the emotional land mines horrible men caused. He was
standing there contemplating the best punishments for men who
mistreated women when Cassie grabbed his elbow. “C'mon, Daddy, it's
time to see who we've got in here.”

He grinned like a fool, more excited than he
should be to see an ultrasound. In four months they'd have a baby,
and today they would find out what color he was painting the
nursery.

Live For Me

The
Everetts of Tyler, Book 3

Spring, 2013

Caleb Everett tore off his scrub top,
depositing it in the laundry basket. He'd spent twelve hours in the
ER today, and he'd still had to prioritize, taking emergencies and
pressing surgeries only. He sighed. He needed a shower, a handful
of aspirin, and two fingers of bourbon. He'd buried himself in
work, not allowing himself to dwell on his missing sister and the
deja vu that caused from his brother's recent kidnapping, and doing
what he did best—healing others. He glanced at the clock, briefly
allowing himself to worry when his phone rang.

His heart beat double-time when he saw it
was Dylan. “You find her?”


We did. She and Tiffany
Morgan are hurt pretty bad, but I'm afraid to bring her to you.”
Dylan sounded ragged, and Caleb's mind conjured all kinds of
scenarios. If Dylan was afraid to bring them to Aylesford, he
expected something to go down here.

He swallowed the fear that crept up his
spine and asked, “Should we evacuate?”


Probably. Call Aylesford
PD.” He blew out a slow breath and Caleb wondered what other bomb
he was going to drop on him. “There are two bodyguards there I
brought in to protect you. You might recognize them if you see
them. I need you to stay close to them, and get out of harm's
way.”

He hadn't expected that one, but it made
perfect sense. Dylan was crazy about Nugget, and his sister
wouldn't let him go unprotected. “Why, Superman, I might believe
you care,” he remarked through a laugh.


Nah, it's an act, but
your sister would kill me if I let you get dead, so play along,
okay?” Dylan joked back, downplaying the gravity of the
situation.


Aye-aye, sir.” He paused
for a beat. “You said I'd know these bodyguards?”


Yeah, you will. They were
just at your brother's house.”

He thought for a second, trying to come up
with names and failing miserably. Instead of naming his protectors,
he just said, “Ah. You keep my sister safe, and I'll follow
directions.”

He pulled on a new set of scrubs, skipping
the shower, the aspirin, and woefully the bourbon as well to go
speak to the hospital administrators. Trying to evacuate a hospital
wasn't as crazy as it used to be considering the ever-looming
threat of terrorism, but it would take a lot of logistical
planning. Somehow he was always involved with everything. Aylesford
Memorial was a small hospital, catering to just Ayles county, with
a staff considered small by most standards, but still numbering
somewhere in the hundreds. If Dylan was right and there was a bomb
threat, they'd have to act fast. He decided then to enlist the help
of his assigned bodyguards—if they could keep him safe, they could
look after those who really needed it.

He ran from the break room and nearly
toppled the new physical therapist, Haleigh Carlisle.


Dr. Everett?” she
questioned, and he wished he had time to really study the beautiful
woman before him. She was flushed with embarrassment over running
straight into him, and it was a look that worked for
her.


Miss
Carlisle?”


Um.... Is something
wrong? You look stressed.”

You could say that. He was afraid the
hospital was under attack, so stressed might be an understatement.
He thought briefly of lying to her, but decided against it. “My
sister was beaten and kidnapped early this morning, and now they're
afraid we might be in danger here.”

Her big blue eyes went wide as the color
leeched from her face. “I thought we were safe here. I thought—”
her sentence cut off when she fainted.

Neighborhood Watch

An
Aylesford Story

Spring/Summer 2013

Chris Delmonico sipped his afternoon beer
and enjoyed his first day off in he wasn't sure how many weeks. He
savored the full flavor of the dark beer, enjoying having nothing
to do but watch the world go by. He was leaned back against his
chair, reveling in the quiet around him when his eye was drawn to
the porch across the street, and the lovely and clearly agitated
redhead tapping a booted foot against it. Oh, and what a boot it
was, black, high heeled, and molded to a very shapely calf, never
mind that it was moving at a mile a minute. The rest of the woman
wasn't lacking either. Her red hair was long and curly, spilling
over the shoulders of a black sweater showing off more than ample
curves. Her bottom half was wrapped in dark jeans, ending in those
delicious boots. He watched as she checked her watch again and let
out a sigh that sent her hair fluttering, and braced himself for
her to turn around. If the back was as distracting as the front, he
might find himself glued in his chair for the duration.

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