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Authors: Jennifer Probst

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BOOK: Searching for Disaster
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chapter four

T
WO DAYS LATER,
Devine sat in the car and stared at the house.

This was crazy. He had no right to knock on her door and demand to talk to her. After all, they'd only shared a night of sex. Great sex. Sex that wrecked him and made him compare her to every other woman he'd slept with since. Still, it was unbelievable she would've remembered him so clearly the moment their gazes met. Could this be considered stalking? Harassment?

His damn palms were sweating.

He raked them down his jeans. The real problem was it was more than sex. He'd thought of her constantly over these past six years, her beautiful face haunting him in his dreams. How many times had he tortured himself about his decision to leave? If he would've stayed, could he have convinced her not to take the drugs? Would things have ended differently?

He didn't know. But now she was here in Verily, back in his life, and there was no way he'd miss this opportunity for a second chance.

It had been easy to find out where she lived. Stone had offered the information that she'd taken up residence in the bungalow when Arilyn moved in with Stone. He hadn't meant to drive over. Coming home from the pool hall, he just kind of found himself here and decided to park and think a bit.

In front of her place.

The light was still on, and the blinking colors told him she was watching television. Women hated being interrupted during their evening routine. If he knocked, she probably wouldn't even open the door. This was stupid.

He got out of the car.

He couldn't knock.

Cursing under his breath, he paced back and forth on her front porch, trying to psych himself up. Okay, so maybe she remembered him, but it didn't mean she'd been dreaming of him all these damn years. He was about to make a complete ass out of himself. Stone would eventually hear about it and torture him. But if he didn't talk to her, he'd regret it. If he was really going to try to find a woman through Kinnections, he needed to flush Isabella out of his system for good.

Right?

Devine didn't expect her to actually open the door to his knock. He waited for a while, shifting his feet, feeling like the schmuck he was for the slim opportunity she'd want to talk to him, too.

The door opened.

She wore gray sweatpants and an old, worn-out gray T-shirt. The soft, washed cotton molded to every curve. Her curly hair was pinned up on her head, but unruly strands escaped from every direction. No makeup. Bare feet. Toes painted purple.

His dick sprang to life and strangled within his jeans. The sizzle was immediate and just as intense as it was six years ago. Her dark-blue eyes widened to the size of saucers as she stared at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Good question. She'd always been direct. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk.”

She blinked. “About what?”

A strangled laugh escaped his lips. His humiliation grew. “About us.”

“There is no us.”

“Isabella, can you please let me in just for a minute? Please?”

A frown creased her brow. She waited a few long moments, and Devine figured he'd be thrown off her porch to do a walk of shame minus the sex. Finally, she motioned him in with a jerk of her hand. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest as if to protect herself. That hidden touch of vulnerability squeezed his heart. What was it about this woman that fascinated him? “I'm sorry I barged in on you like this. I just wanted to talk.”

She shook her head. “About what? We slept together six years ago. I'm sure this stuff happens now and then. Just because you're Stone's partner doesn't mean we can't keep our distance.”

For one moment, he wondered if he should just walk out the door. Maybe this had been a terrible idea and she really didn't want to see him again. But hell if he'd back off now when he needed to find his own answers. His frown matched hers. “Don't want to keep my distance. I've thought about you these past years. How are you doing?”

Ice chilled her eyes. He knew he had made a mistake from the way she squeezed herself tighter as if to ward off an attack. “Oh, I get it,” she said softly. “You want to confirm all of your ideas about me came true. You want to know you made the right decision by walking away from me.”

“Isabella—”

“No, I understand why you came here. Let me give you the short version. I took the coke after you left. Then I took more the next day. This continued with greater frequency, which you don't need to know, until I found myself without family, friends, or an ability to live. I finally checked into rehab, did my work, and now I'm clean and sober.” She smiled tightly. “So you see, Liam, you were right about everything. Now that we've strolled down memory lane, I'd like you to leave.”

“Fuck. I didn't mean—I'm not talking about that shit! I hate that it happened to you, but I'm not here to judge or gloat over being right. I didn't want to be right! I'm here because the woman I spent the night with was special, and I want to get to know her again.”

Her muscles relaxed slightly. “That night was special to me, too,” she said softly. “But there can't be anything between us anymore, Liam. We're too different.” Her small laugh was humorless. “I knew it when I met you. You were heading toward greatness. You're a police officer, just like you dreamed. And you were right to warn me about the drugs, but I couldn't hear you then. I was too trapped within my own stuff.”

“But you're clean now,” he pointed out. “You faced your demons. I just want some time with you. Don't we owe ourselves that after the way we left things?”

“No. We owe ourselves the truth. We'd never be good together.”

“You won't even give me a chance?”

Her eyes held not only a touch of sadness but a banked fire that snapped with ferocity. “I'm not even thirty years old and I don't feel comfortable in a bar. Or at a party where everyone's drinking. I go to meetings on a monthly basis, and I have a mentor I still regularly check in with. Every day, I wake up and tell myself I'm not going to drink or use. Every night, I almost weep with gratitude that I stayed clean. Is that the type of girlfriend you want? I have more baggage and issues than you could possibly imagine. You think that'll be fun for you?”

Her words pegged him like jagged glass splitting skin. The truth shone in her face, the acceptance of what she'd experienced and the new path she walked. She was right. He could have an easy woman, one who clung to his arm and accompanied him to social events, who drank beer with him while he played pool, who he never had to worry about or doubt.

Problem was, that woman wasn't Isabella. A woman he'd spent one too-short evening with. A woman whose last name he didn't even know.

His entire life had been about achieving goals and reasonable expectations. From his grades to mentoring his younger brother to making his parents proud. He was precise, controlled, and liked things neat. Police work called to his sense of justice and righting the imbalances of life.

But he'd found something else about himself throughout the years. People were messy. So was life. He'd arrested criminals who broke the letter of the law but who he could easily understand. They had difficult backgrounds. Made wrong choices. Screwed up. He'd realized imperfection had a rough beauty about it, especially when people held a willingness to see the truth about themselves.

Izzy had reached that type of epiphany that most never got to. She'd done it the hard way, but damned if he didn't want to delve deeper to see the woman she'd built through disaster.

So he gave the only answer he could. “Yes.”

She tilted her head, regarding him. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I think it will be fun, because I'd get to be with you. Will you go out to dinner with me?”

She gulped, staring at him like he'd gone crazy. “No! I just told you all the reasons we're not good together.”

He smiled slowly. “I don't think they're good reasons. Unless you're seeing someone?”

He caught the flash in her blue eyes. She wanted to lie, but she didn't. “No.”

“Good. How about Friday night?”

“No, Liam. You have to go. I'm not going to date you or pursue this any further. Kinnections will find you a woman who's meant for you.”

He analyzed the situation. He bristled at her determination to dismiss him before getting to really know him. He also understood her wariness. He needed to move slowly so she could get used to the idea of him being around. She needed to begin to trust he was interested in her, including her past. This brief encounter only proved the energy between them was real. They were connected in some way and needed to explore that deeper.

He also desperately wanted her in his bed.

Devine nodded. “Okay, I'll leave. But first you need to answer one question.”

“What?”

“What's your last name?”

Her tentative smile was sweet and ripped at his heart. “MacKenzie. Isabella MacKenzie.”

There was so much more he craved to know, but it would have to come later. “Isabella MacKenzie,” he repeated, rolling the name on his tongue like a caress. “I like it.”

“Should I be calling you Devine, instead?”

“Never. You can call me Liam. That's who I will always be with you.”

She pressed her lips together. Then opened the door. “Good-bye, Liam.”

He wanted to ruffle her hair or touch her cheek. Tell her not to worry. Instead, he kept his distance. “Good-bye, Isabella.”

When he left, excitement and promise surged in his blood. Her honesty humbled him. She never flinched when she told him her story, owning her mistakes as well as her triumphs. She had been fascinating and confident when he'd first met her six years ago.

Now she was pure magnificence. Real.

And the challenge of a lifetime.

Driving away, he felt as if the color had leaked back into the world around him, ripe with the tantalizing fruit of the unknown. The strange restlessness inside quieted.

chapter five

I
ZZY DRAGGED IN
A BREATH
and prepared herself for the upcoming hour.

She could handle it. Liam had an appointment with Kate for his interview so he'd be matched with the right woman. Kate was a genius when it came to her matchmaking skills, besides having a very special talent that Izzy had a hard time believing at first but finally witnessed in full force. When Kate put her hands on two people who were soul mates, she got jolted by an electrical shock. Gen had given her the entire story of how Kate had met her husband, Slade, when he stormed into Kinnections calling her a fraud. Izzy could only imagine how their love story had played out.

Arilyn and Kennedy were out of the office, and the day had been a bit calmer than usual for an early Wednesday afternoon. The lunch-hour rush had passed, so she kept busy working on the spreadsheets and calculating matching data to load back into the system to find proper matches.

She was still experiencing aftershocks from Liam's evening visit.

Knowing she'd been just as important to him that night had healed some deep wounds. But there was no way she could relive a night where she consistently questioned her actions, wondering if she had listened to Liam and climbed back into bed her path would've veered in a different direction, saving so many people she loved horrible pain.

Regrets are part of healing. You can never take back your actions, but you can forgive, make amends, and move on. You have a responsibility to lead a full, happy life, for you and God. Obsessing about regrets will poison your soul.

Her sponsor's words echoed in her mind, allowing her to calm down.

Her body thrilled to life when he told her he wanted to have dinner, but her brain firmly dragged her back from the precipice. She couldn't have sex with Liam. She was past jumping into bed with a guy because it scratched an itch, and though she couldn't regret her open sexuality, she'd changed. She realized she'd dove into sex as an escape from her real problems and swore the next time she got physical with a man, it would be because real feelings were there.

He may have offered dinner, but she knew the hidden meaning behind the words. He wanted her in bed, just like six years ago. Problem was, she was a different person now and he'd only be disappointed.

Her body raged and whined. Two years with no sex was a damn long time. Especially when orgasms had been a regular occurrence. Now she had to rely on a machine, and although it was capable, it was definitely not the same.

On cue, Liam walked in.

Her hands fisted, then slowly relaxed. He was out of uniform, wearing dark-washed jeans, a pale-gray button-down shirt, and leather tied shoes. Even out of uniform he looked handsome. Proper. And sexy as hell.

He stopped in front of her desk and leaned over. Trying not to shrink back, she watched the color of his pale-blue eyes reflect a tinge of silver, hypnotizing her. His perfect face could have launched a thousand movie careers. “Hi, Isabella. I'm here for my appointment with Kate.”

“Of course.” She prayed her skin wasn't turning a hot pink. Why did she suddenly feel like a schoolgirl? She was always so confident in her sexuality. “Umm, Kate is running a bit late. Let me take you into the conference room so you're more comfortable while you wait.”

“I'm comfortable hanging with you.”

His easy smile curved full lips. She had a sudden urge to lean over and take a succulent bite. “No! I mean, you need to wait in there for her. It's more comfortable.”

“So you said.”

Damn him. Amusement laced his molasses-rich voice. She wasn't going to let him make her uncomfortable. “Follow me,” she snapped smartly, getting up and leading him down the hall.

Her ass tingled like his gaze was stuck on it.

The room was large, set up for easy conversation and sharing. The silver rug was accented by purple chairs, a large mahogany desk, and encouraging signs scattered about the walls. A large coffee machine and pitcher of homemade lemonade sat on a side table. “Can I get you anything?”

“Yes.”

“Coffee? Lemonade?”

“Have dinner with me.”

She jerked slightly. “No, thank you. If you'll just take a seat, Kate will be right with you.”

“It's just dinner.”

Her brow arched. “Nothing is just dinner. If you haven't learned that yet, you've been with the wrong women.”

He laughed. “This time it would be. I just want to talk.”

“Said every man in the history of time. Excuse me.”

She walked out with her head held high, breathing a sigh of relief when she was out of his energy force field. She'd never met another man who affected her like this. The phone rang, and she jumped to get it. “Kinnections matchmaking agency.”

“Izzy? It's Kate. Listen, I have a huge problem and I need your help.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I got a flat tire on my way and Slade insisted he come to get me even though I have Triple A. He says he doesn't trust them.”

“I think it's sweet he's a bit overprotective.”

Kate snorted. “Yeah. The only reason I'm letting him is he's been working late at the office this week and I haven't seen much of him. It will give us a quick opportunity to have a roadside drive-thru lunch.”

“Romantic. Your appointment is here. I'll reschedule for you.”

“No, I'll be able to get there in half an hour. I need you to do the initial intake for me. We've gone over it and you're ready. The papers are right on my desk, so complete the first two forms for me, and I can jump in for the rest.”

Izzy's mouth dropped open. Kate never let anyone else interfere with her clients' first appointments. “I don't understand. Let me check with him—maybe he can wait till you get here.”

“No, I have back-to-back appointments and I can't reschedule. It's critical, Izzy; I know you can do it. Just write down all of his answers. Make him feel comfortable. I'll get there as soon as I can.”

Her heart pounded so hard the echo reached her ears. Her first shot at a client and it had to be Liam? Why was this happening to her? “Sure, no problem,” she said with forced brightness. “I can handle it.”

“Great—I knew you could! See you soon.”

Izzy replaced the receiver, dropped her face in her hands, and groaned. How was she going to do this? The questions were intimate—and crucial to making the right match. But she didn't have the time to explain to Kate about their past relationship. She just had to be professional. She could handle this.

She headed to Kate's office to pick up his file, shuffled through the forms, and grabbed a few pens. Then walked into the conference room.

“Kate has been slightly delayed,” she said calmly. “She would like me to start the intake process, and then when she gets here, she'll take over. Unless this isn't acceptable to you. If not, I'd be happy to reschedule the appointment.”

He was lounging in the violet cushioned chair, ankles crossed, head back in a relaxed pose, reminding her of a graceful cat taking a break between hunts. The pleased look on his face told her he was quite happy with her statement. “Fascinating—I didn't know you did any of the matchups.”

She threw her shoulders back. “This is my first. Again, if you'd rather wait for Kate—”

“No. I want to be your first.”

The words hummed with meaning and crackling sexual tension. She clung to her professional demeanor tighter than a politician to fake promises and sat down in the opposite chair. Cursing her luck that she wore a decently short skirt today, she gave a quick tug, then propped the folder on her lap. Clicking the pen, she paused on the first question.

“Tell me one of the reasons you want to find love now.”

“I need a little foreplay first.”

The pen dropped from her fingers and rolled to the floor. “Excuse me?”

He tamped down a grin, retrieved her pen, and held it out to her. She snatched it back, trying to make sure their fingers couldn't touch. “Foreplay. I'm not comfortable getting right into serious questions without some warm-up conversation.”

She wanted to scream with frustration, but she wanted to impress Kate. Damn him. He was having fun with this and didn't seem the least bit stressed about her asking him intimate questions. “Conversation? Fine. How was your day?”

“I gave out two speeding tickets, dealt with one minor traffic accident, and gave out four Breathalyzer tests. I had the night shift, so I'm a bit worse for wear.”

Yeah, right. He looked fresh, other than his hair being a bit mussed up. It only made him look hotter. “Did they all pass?”

“Yes.” A smirk rested on his lips. “I had to give one to a father who was throwing up on a neighbor's lawn. She called the police, suspecting him of drunk driving. Turned out his toddler had vomited in his minivan and he's a sympathetic vomiter.”

“Oh no. Bet his wife is going to hear about that.”

“He was desperately texting her through the whole mess.”

Izzy laughed and relaxed a bit. “So your job has many potential pitfalls.”

“Yes, but a small-town cop doesn't see much action. Which is good, don't get me wrong. But sometimes—”

He cut himself off. She waited. When he didn't say anything else, she gave in to her curiosity. “Sometimes what?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if there's more out there for me.” Suddenly, his pale-blue eyes glinted with a fierce determination. “Which is why I'm here right now. I'm ready for more. Does that answer your question?”

Shivers raced down her spine. He had the oddest ability to be relaxed one moment, then intense the next. She remembered the way he'd casually leaned against the wall that first night they met, then closed the distance with a purpose that made her belly drop.

Professional . . . professional . . . professional . . .

“Yes, thank you.” She scribbled down his answer in the white space. “What type of hobbies or interests do you currently pursue?”

“I dance.”

Her head shot up. “What?”

“I dance. I'm not a stripper, though. Kind of like
Flashdance
. But the pole gives me some issues.”

The memory rose and exploded between them. God, had he remembered her every word? Caught between laughter and irritation, she shook her head and allowed a small smile. “Very funny.”

“You never tried it again, did you?” he asked softly.

“Dancing? God, no. Didn't want to torture myself or others.”

“Doubt a man alive could be tortured watching you dance for him.”

Wicked heat licked through her body. Her nipples hardened through her lace bra, and her thighs clenched under her short skirt. Oh, this man was good. Ignoring his comment, she strove for a proper tone. “Sports? Gym? Hiking? Books? It's important to find the things you like to do and achieve a good balance with your partner.”

“None of the above. Not too interested in any sports. I use the gym because I have to keep my body in shape for my job. I like to read but it's nothing I'd consider a true hobby.” He paused as if trying to come up with something. “I like
Star Wars
.”

Izzy froze. No way. Impossible. “What did you say?”

“You know the movies?
Star Wars
? Silly, but I'm kind of a junkie. Was obsessed when I was a kid, and with the new franchise, it just set me off again.”

She stared at him, unable to speak.

“Umm, now that you're looking at me like I'm weird, I'd like to retract my statement.”

“No, I'm sorry; it's just that I happen to really like
Star Wars
, too.”

“You kidding me?”

“No. Because I'm a girl you don't think I can like it?”

He threw up his hands in defense. “No, you surprised me. Who's your favorite character?”

“Princess Leia. But Rey is kick-ass and comes in second. She's a tie with Yoda.”

“Gotta love a woman in a gold lamé bikini who can fight.”

“Why are men so obsessed with that bikini?”

“It's epic. If you ever wore one, they'd need to resuscitate me.”

Why did he have to make her want to laugh? It was the worst torture. She fought her grin desperately. “Who's your favorite?”

“Han Solo.” Surprise must have shown on her face. “You didn't peg me for a Solo and Chewie guy?”

“Solo is a rebel. Smuggler, criminal, smart-ass. I would've pinned you for a Luke fan. He's more the hero. The rule follower. In a good way, of course.”

“Han is more interesting to me. More layers. More . . . passion.”

The air lit and charged. She shifted her weight, tore her gaze away, and tried desperately to focus on business. Matching him with someone else. “What do you do when you're not working? Or on weekends?”

“Play pool. Tinker at my house. I bought a fixer-upper and I like to work on small projects. I enjoy seeing my friends and family. My job has been my main priority. I take extra shifts to help some guys out. Our department got cut, so we never have enough manpower.”

BOOK: Searching for Disaster
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