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Never Too Late. RaeAnne ThayneЧитать онлайн книгу.

Never Too Late - RaeAnne  Thayne


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use the pump, and a few moments later he walked across the street to the park, where he could see Belle still gleefully chasing after a ball.

      Without direct sunlight, colors were saturated in the over-cast sky. The russet, sleek dog and Kate with her bright blond hair and gray sweater looked vibrant and alive playing in the light snow covering the ground.

      Even from a hundred yards away, he could see Kate’s smile light up her face as she watched Belle scramble through the snow after that ball as if it were made of raw hamburger.

      She was breathtaking in that pale light, like something out of an impressionist painting.

      He had always been attracted to Kate, he acknowledged now. He had never done anything about it, in fact he had gone out of his way to avoid situations like this one where they would be alone.

      He couldn’t do anything about it. For one thing, she was Taylor’s closest friend. His sister hadn’t had all that many close friends and he wasn’t about to screw this up for her by messing around with Kate.

      He had a poor history with women. Until Dru, most of his relationships had ended after only a few months, usually because the women he dated tired quickly of his complete dedication to his job. Dru hadn’t minded; in fact she had encouraged him to talk about work. In retrospect, he wondered how much of that was genuine interest and how much was her reporter instincts, nosing around for a good story.

      He had a feeling their relationship would have gone the way of all those others if she hadn’t told him after only a few months of dating that she was pregnant.

      Since her murder, he’d had plenty of time to think about things between them. He knew now that he had tried to convince himself he loved her because he’d thought she was pregnant with his child and he’d wanted fiercely to make things work between them.

      His son deserved a father and Hunter intended to be part of his life. The best way to accomplish that—the right thing to do—was to marry his child’s mother.

      Dru had refused, though. Oh, she hadn’t minded him taking her to doctor appointments and fussing over her, but she wasn’t ready to marry him, she said. Now he knew the reason why. She had likely known—or at least suspected—that he wasn’t her baby’s father.

      Kate’s laughter rippled across the cold air suddenly, distracting him from the grim direction of his thoughts.

      He could never act on this attraction simmering through him, he thought as he approached them. He didn’t have room in his life right now for a woman and, even if he did, it wouldn’t be this particular one.

      “Hey.” She greeted him with a smile. “I’ve almost worn her out. A few more throws and I think she’ll be good for a while.”

      He held a hand out for the ball. When she gave it to him, he hurled it to the other side of the park.

      “All right, show off.” Kate laughed as Belle let out an ecstatic bark and set off after it. “Let me guess. You were a baseball player in another life.”

      He shrugged. “All-state in high school. When I wasn’t skiing, I was throwing a ball through a tire hung up in the backyard. I played one year of college ball and had dreams of the majors, then I messed up my shoulder.” Not that the Judge had ever encouraged those dreams for a second.

      “So you decided to become a cop instead.”

      “Right.” He didn’t add that he had dreamed of being a cop as a boy but had entered the police academy mostly in an effort to piss off his father, who would see nothing else for his son except that Hunter should follow in his footsteps and study law.

      To Hunter’s surprise, he had thrived at the academy. By the time he’d graduated first in his class, he knew he had discovered his calling.

      Or he thought he had, anyway. As much as he had loved being a cop, first on the beat then as a detective, he had been betrayed by the brotherhood. He couldn’t work upholding a system he no longer respected.

      “Do you miss it?”

      He wasn’t sure what to say, since the answer to that question was anything but an easy one. Did he miss it? Yeah. He’d been a good cop, a dedicated one. But he certainly didn’t miss it enough to jump right back into the fray.

      He was spared from having to answer by the return of Belle, who came panting back with the ball tightly clenched in her teeth. She rushed to Hunter and dropped the drooly thing like an offering at his feet.

      “Good girl.” He rewarded her with one of the treats he’d brought from the Jeep. She gulped it down then barked with joy when Hunter threw the ball hard for her again.

      What was it about dogs? he wondered. They never seemed to get tired of the same activity. Give Belle a ball and a little attention and she was content for hours.

      “Do you?” Kate asked again. He sighed. He hoped she would let the matter drop, but he supposed he wasn’t really surprised when she didn’t. The woman was nothing if not tenacious.

      “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I loved being a detective, helping people find justice. Giving them answers. The badge meant something to me.” He gazed across the park at a pair of forlorn swings, chains rattling in the cold wind. “But I had already come to hate the politics of the job before I was arrested.”

      She nodded her understanding. “I suppose it’s the same as medicine. I love treating patients but I can’t stand dealing with insurance companies and HMOs. I guess it’s true that sometimes you have to take the bad with the good.”

      “And sometimes it’s easier to walk away from both.”

      She opened her mouth to argue but before she could say anything, Belle came bounding back with the ball. She came running at them just a little too fast, though, and bumped into Kate’s legs in her rush to get to Hunter.

      Kate wobbled a little and tried to keep her balance but the light layer of snow made gaining traction difficult. She gave a small cry as her legs started to slip out from under.

      He didn’t take time to think—if he had, he would have known reaching for her was a bad idea. Still, he couldn’t let her fall.

      He grabbed her to keep her upright, blocking her from falling with his own body. Her hands came out to grab something solid to hang onto—his shirt, as it turned out—and his arms came around her.

      Though she was small, only five-four, maybe, she was sturdy. Still, she felt tiny and fragile in his arms.

      “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gruff.

      “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

      Hunter wasn’t. He felt frozen, cast in bronze like that statue in the corner of the park of a couple of soldiers crouched over what looked like a piece of World War II heavy artillery.

      How long had it been since his arms had held a warm female? Forever. So long, he’d forgotten how absolutely perfect it could be to feel all those intriguing curves and angles, to be surrounded by the mouthwatering vanilla-sugar scent of her, to know he only had to bend his head down a little to capture that perfect, lush mouth for his own.

      He had to let her go. The thought flickered through his mind then flew away like a killdeer on the side of the road.

      Her eyes, wide and lovely in that delicate face, gazed up at him, full of confusion and embarrassment and what he thought might be sexual awareness—though it had been a hell of a long time since he had seen it, so maybe he was wrong about that last bit.

      She made no effort to pull away. Instead her hands seemed to curl in his sweater and her dewy lips parted a little as she hitched in a ragged little breath.

      They stood there, eyes locked and bodies entwined, as the moment seemed to drag on forever. He was vaguely aware of the cold seeping through his boots, of those swings creaking in the wind, of a pickup truck driving past. But nothing else mattered but this moment.

      This woman.


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