The O’Connells Books 1- 3 E-Book

Lorhainne Eckhart

• Herausgeber: Lorhainne Eckhart, INC.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The O'Connells Box Set
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 692

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

The O’Connells of Livingston, Montana, are not your typical family. Follow them on their journey to the dark and dangerous side of love in a series of romantic thrillers you won’t want to miss. Raised by a single mother after their father’s mysterious disappearance eighteen years ago, the six grown siblings live in a small town with all kinds of hidden secrets, lies, and deception. 

—“A new family series more suspenseful than the Friessens.” Karen L. Vine Voice 

This Boxed set collection in The O’Connells series includes The Neighbor, The Third Call & The Secret Husband

The Neighbor: Park ranger Ryan is shocked when Jenny, a one-night stand from years ago, moves to his Montana town with her troublesome daughter, Alison. But he can’t resist the pull he feels toward her — especially once Alison goes missing and the truth about her daughter’s real identity comes out… 

The Third Call: When dispatcher Charlotte Roy passes along a call to bad-boy deputy Marcus O’Connell, they learn a six-year-old child is in danger. Can they save the girl from a desperate situation?

The Secret Husband: Small-town lawyer Karen O’Connell receives a call from Jack Curtis, her vengeful ex-husband, whom she’s never told anyone in her family about. He’s found himself in jail charged with murder. He says he's innocent, and Karen soon learns the mysterious circumstances surrounding the murder could be the reason their hasty marriage ended so badly. 

Leseprobe

The O’Connells Books 1 - 3

The Neighbor, The Third Call, The Secret Husband

COPYRIGHT © Lorhainne Ekelund, 2020, All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contact Information: [email protected]

Editor: Talia Leduc

THE O’CONNELLS BOOKS 1- 3

The O’Connells Box Set

Book 1

LORHAINNE ECKHART

Contents

Keep in touch with Lorhainne

About the O’Connells

The O’Connells Books 1 - 3

The Neighbor

The O’Connells

The Third Call

The O’Connells

The Secret Husband

The O’Connells

What’s coming next in The O’Connells

The Quiet Day

The Quiet Day

Other Works Available

The Sacrifice

A New Crossover Series!

Finding Honor

Finding Honor

About the Author

Links to Lorhainne Eckhart’s Booklist

Keep in touch with Lorhainne

Sign-up for Lorhainne’s Newsletter & Monday Blog

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About the O’Connells

The O’Connells of Livingston, Montana, are not your typical family. Follow them on their journey to the dark and dangerous side of love in a series of romantic thrillers you won’t want to miss. Raised by a single mother after their father’s mysterious disappearance eighteen years ago, the six grown siblings live in a small town with all kinds of hidden secrets, lies, and deception. Much like the contemporary family romance series focusing on the Friessens, this romantic suspense series follows the lives of the O’Connell family as each of the siblings searches for love.

The O’Connells

The Neighbor

The Third Call

The Secret Husband

The Quiet Day

The Commitment, An O’Connell Novella

The Missing Father

The Hometown Hero

Justice

The Family Secret

The Fallen O’Connell

The Return of the O’Connells

And The She Was Gone

The Stalker

The O’Connell Family Christmas

The Girl Next Door

Broken Promises

The Gatekeeper

The Hunted

The O’Connells Box Set Collections

The O’Connells Books 1 - 3

The O’Connells Books 4 - 6

The O’Connells Books 7 - 9

The O’Connells Books 10 - 12

The O’Connells Books 13 - 15

The O’Connells Books 16 - 18

The O’Connells Books 1 - 3

The O’Connells of Livingston, Montana, are not your typical family. Follow them on their journey to the dark and dangerous side of love in a series of romantic thrillers you won’t want to miss. Raised by a single mother after their father’s mysterious disappearance eighteen years ago, the six grown siblings live in a small town with all kinds of hidden secrets, lies, and deception.

CLICK HERE TO ADD AUDIOBOOK NARRATION TO THE O’CONNELL’S BOOKS 1 - 3, Available from all retailers

—“A new family series more suspenseful than the Friessens.”

Karen L. Vine Voice

The Neighbor: Park ranger Ryan is shocked when Jenny, a one-night stand from years ago, moves to his Montana town with her troublesome daughter, Alison. But he can’t resist the pull he feels toward her — especially once Alison goes missing and the truth about her daughter’s real identity comes out… 

The Third Call: When dispatcher Charlotte Roy passes along a call to bad-boy deputy Marcus O’Connell, they learn a six-year-old child is in danger. Can they save the girl from a desperate situation?

The Secret Husband: Attorney Karen O’Connell’s ex-husband, Jack Curtis, has been accused of murder — and he wants her help. Could this case be connected to their failed marriage?

The Neighbor

Secrets and Lies in a Small Town

“A story of family dynamics, teenage angst and rebellion, and secrets that can tear a family apart.”

Rebmay

From a NY Times &USA Today bestselling author: Park ranger Ryan is shocked when Jenny, a one-night stand from years ago, moves to his Montana town with her troublesome daughter, Alison. But he can’t resist the pull he feels toward her — especially once Alison goes missing and the truth about her daughter’s real identity comes out…

—“A new family series more suspenseful than the Friessens.”

Karen L. Vine Voice

Park ranger Ryan is one of the six O’Connell siblings in Livingston, raised by an independent mom who has been a rock to him. He has a career he loves, and up until six weeks ago, he lived a comfortable life. When a new neighbor moves in and disturbs the quiet peace of the area, bringing with her a daughter who’s walking trouble, Ryan is shocked to discover that the woman is a one-night stand he picked up at a bar years ago.

Right now, the gorgeous Jenny isn’t too interested in making friends, but despite her cool façade, as Ryan gets to know her, he can’t fight an idiotic need to try to ease the pain he sees her trying to hide. At the same time, he knows deep down that both mother and daughter have a secret, and if he were smart, he would listen to his brother’s warning and walk away.

When Alison goes missing, everyone in town believes she simply ran off or found her way into trouble, but nothing about her disappearance adds up. She simply set out on an afternoon hike into the park and never came back.

Jenny soon learns she’s not alone when Ryan takes matters into his own hands and sets off with her into the park to find her daughter. What he doesn’t know is that Alison is actually his daughter, too, and when he learns the truth and the real reason she left, the secret could end up dividing the O’Connell family.

ChapterOne

More or less, Livingston was a quiet town—except for the person next door, the supreme a-hole he had yet to meet.

Ryan O’Connell’s scale of assholes went from your average pain in the ass, to the lying, cheating dirty dog, to the class A supreme asshole who didn’t give a fuck about anyone and conceivably embraced being said asshole, considering the intolerable noise from next door.

Ryan wasn’t in the mood to deal with yet another asshole today as he dragged on a pair of gray sweats after toweling off from a cool shower in the August Montana heat.

The stereo thumped from the Kunkels’ house next door. Actually, scratch that. Althea Kunkel had been a sweet old busybody, always trying to fix Ryan up. She had been the ideal neighbor, though she had always invaded his privacy and his peace of mind, waking him at seven a.m. on Sundays with freshly baked cinnamon rolls. At times, he’d been forced to sneak into his own house after parking up the street so she wouldn’t know he was home.

She was now six feet under, and Ryan missed her.

Good neighbors were hard to find.

He would’ve given anything to have that meddling busybody back instead of the unnamed scumbag who’d recently moved in. Every night for the past three weeks, his new neighbor had incessantly cranked the music so loud that the thump of the bass bounced the only piece of artwork, a painting of dogs smoking and playing poker, that he had on his vibrant white walls. It had been a joke from his sister Suzanne, one of Livingston’s three fulltime firefighters, and he swore she hadn’t expected him to hang it in such a prominent spot in the house.

That was just one of those things they did on their birthdays, really digging in and competing to find the perfect gift the other would hate. But Ryan was determined always to have the last laugh, and he’d hung the painting in the living room for everyone to see. He liked dogs and found humor in it, and he could see how much it annoyed his sister every time she stopped by.

“Goddamn asshole,” he said under his breath as he jogged down his stairs, barefoot and pissed, ready to lay out the dos and don’ts of being a good neighbor as the annoying thump continued.

He pulled open his front door, wanting only peace and quiet, a beer, and an hour or two in front of his idiot box to watch the episode of Survivor saved on his PVR. He stepped out onto the covered porch, the sky dark except for the streetlights, and strode across his overgrown grass, taking in the rusty Hyundai parked in his neighbor’s driveway.

Across the street, Ham Johnson, bald and fortyish, with three kids and a wife who visited her sister in Idaho every other week, which was when his girlfriend would stay over, was standing on his front porch and watching. Yeah, Ham was just another asshole, but he lifted his hand in a wave and walked back into his house.

Ryan’s neighbor’s two-story craftsman was identical to his, with now wilting daisies in the flower boxes. He took in the lit house, the closed door, and the noise, which was nearly deafening as he stepped onto the front porch and fisted his hand. He lifted it to the screen and yanked it open with a barely audible squeak, then pounded on the door. “Hey, shut it down!” he yelled. He could be loud when he wanted to, but he was having trouble hearing himself, considering the music was still thumping.

It was a tune he knew well, “Bad to the Bone.”

“Fucking asshole,” he said under his breath, then pounded the door again with his fist, louder. He kept pounding until the music suddenly stopped, and he could finally hear his heart thumping, the pull of his breath, and a noticeable ring in the air as the quiet of night was no longer disrupted.

One, two, three… He heard the footsteps and then nothing, forcing himself to listen, as he thought for sure the asshole had stopped on the other side of the door. He waited for it to open when the light suddenly flicked off, not just the inside light but the porch light too, leaving him standing in the dark. Like, what the fuck?

“Hey, open the damn door!” he said and pounded on the door again. The neighbors’ dogs were now barking and doors were opening, as if he was now the problem. “You think I don’t know you’re in there? Like, what are you, two years old? Open the damn door.”

He was positive his neighbor was standing just on the other side, the fucking little coward. Now he had no intention of walking away. “Look, I’m not leaving until we talk and set some ground rules…”

The light flicked on, and he heard the deadbolt click and watched as the doorknob turned and the door opened. He was staring into the deep brown eyes of a girl who was maybe sixteen, seventeen. She had shoulder-length black hair and wore black eye shadow, a low-cut green army tank, and cut-off shorts that left nothing to the imagination. She also had a nose ring.

For a second, he was speechless. She said nothing.

“I live next door,” he finally said. “I’m your neighbor. Do you have any idea how loud your music was? It was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.” He gestured next door with his thumb and took in the way she stared at him, her eyes lingering on his naked chest. Shit, he’d just stepped out of the shower and pulled on a pair of sweats. He hadn’t bothered with anything else.

“Sorry,” was all she said as she moved to close the door.

He slapped his hand on it. “Whoa, hang on a second. You know, it’s not as if this is a first offence. This had been going on every night. Who all lives here? Is this, like, some frat house or something?” He took her in and could see the teenage attitude emerging. She was likely going to tell him to go fuck himself.

“What’s it to you?” she said. Her eyes went right to his hand pressed to the door, holding it so she couldn’t slam it in his face. In that moment, he realized how she could’ve taken it.

“Look, is your mom or dad here?” he said. She hadn’t told him anything about who lived there, not that he could remember seeing anyone.

“Nope, just me,” she said and didn’t pull her gaze from him.

He had to fight the urge to laugh. “So you live here by yourself? A little young, aren’t you?”

She slid her hand up the door frame and cocked her hip in a teasing motion that had him pulling his hand away and stepping back. “Depends on what you like,” she said.

He wondered if his eyes bugged out, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Cut the crap, kid. Don’t…” he started, but just as he did so, he heard a car and saw the flashing lights of a cruiser as it parked out front. “You called the cops?”

She just shrugged, and he thought he saw the hint of a smile. In that second, he knew what the teen, whose name he still didn’t know, had done. This was a girl who could cause him some serious trouble. He should’ve called the cops first!

“Oh, I’m so glad you got here when you did, officer,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do. My mom’s not here, and this man won’t leave. He threatened me and scared me, pounding on the door…”

Ryan couldn’t pull his eyes from what seemed like an actress pulling off the perfect scene, and even her expression seemed to be that of a truly scared girl. He heard the creak of the step and took only a second to glance to the deputy now standing beside him, his hands on his belt. The man had the same O’Connell blue eyes he did, his dark wavy hair in the same cop cut he always wore. It was none other than his younger brother, who placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you for real, kid?” Ryan snapped.

“Well, aren’t you going to arrest him?” the kid said accusingly, and he wondered for a second if this was a joke. The look on her face was all the reality check he needed.

“Care to explain, Ryan?” said Marcus O’Connell.

Just then, Ryan spotted the headlights of a small Jeep Patriot that was pulling in behind the rusty Hyundai.

“Wish I could,” he said. “Came over because of the damn noise, a stereo, and now you’re here. She called the cops?” He couldn’t figure out when, maybe while she was avoiding answering the door.

“What’s going on here?” said a woman emerging from the Jeep. She had dark hair and wore a baggy sweatshirt and a jean skirt that stopped at her knees, and she was carrying what looked like a grocery bag. Damn, she looked familiar. “Alison, what’s going on? What did you do now?”

She was pretty—no, cute, slender. She had one of those faces that wouldn’t get lost in a crowd, and he saw the spark of recognition when she saw him. Nothing friendly. He had to rack his brain to figure out where he knew her from.

“I’m Ryan O’Connell. I live next door,” he said, and he actually held out his hand to the woman, who was now on the first step. For a second, he didn’t think she’d shake it, but she did. Small hand, firm grip—and untrusting eyes. She said nothing, and he didn’t miss the glance to his brother.

“Your music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think,” he explained. “I came over here because it’s been a nightly thing. I take it you’re one of her parents?”

The woman pulled her hand from his and flicked her gaze to the teen in the doorway. Yup, definitely the angry mom look. “I’m so sorry,” she said, then looked to the teen. “I told you no loud music! I apologize and can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Well, I’m not here about the noise,” Marcus said. “This young lady called 911 and said there was an intruder trying to break in, that she was home alone… We were just trying to get to the bottom of it when you showed up. I take it you live here?”

Ryan moved back and leaned against the post to watch.

“Yes, sorry. I’m Jennifer—Jenny, and this is my daughter, Alison.” She handed off the paper bag to her daughter. “You called the cops? What were you thinking?” Her voice squeaked, and he wondered whether this was something her daughter did often.

He glanced to his brother, who only shook his head. He wondered how many times Marcus had to deal with this kind of thing.

“He was being a dick, pounding on the door,” Alison said. She didn’t even try to pretend that she hadn’t just made up a big lie. Ryan had heard of neighbors from hell, but he’d never expected to have one. He stood with his arms crossed over his naked chest, still trying to think of how he knew Jenny.

“You don’t call the cops!” she said. “Seriously, Alison… Go unpack the groceries.”

“Just hang on a second, here,” Marcus said. “Calling 911 for kicks is a serious offense. At the same time, if I’m called out here because of noise, for example, your music cranked too loud, I’m going to fine you, because that’s a problem.”

Alison was holding the grocery bag and dragged her gaze to her mom, who appeared barely old enough to have a teenage daughter.

“I can assure you it won’t happen again,” Jenny said. “I will have a talk with my daughter and see to it that she behaves herself.”

He noted the edge in her voice. That was the same tone his own mom had used on each of them when they misbehaved, pulling them aside alone at home for a talk they didn’t want to have. There was fun mom, and then there was angry grounded-for-life mom. He could see this teen was getting the latter.

“So, then, the music…” he started.

Jenny lifted her hands, shaking her head. “It will stop, like right now, and I’m sorry for the trouble my daughter caused.”

Alison had already walked away, seeming completely unaffected at having a cop call her out. She was trouble with a capital T. He wondered if he should also give Jenny a heads-up on how her daughter had been toying with him and offering herself up to him.

“Is that all?” she asked. So much for any friendly neighborly talk. He was still trying to figure out how they knew each other and when they’d met.

“Guess so,” he said. “Music’s off, so the neighborhood should be happy. Oh, and you may want to keep your daughter on a short leash,” he added as he stepped away from the post and down the steps. He stopped at the bottom, taking in the withering look his brother dragged over to him. Finally, Ryan said, “I’m trying to place it. Seems we’ve met. You look familiar.”

She actually made a rude noise and crossed her arms. “So you don’t remember?” she said.

He could feel his brother taking him in. “I’m great with faces, but I meet a lot of people in my line of work as a ranger. We meet on the trail or someplace in town or something?”

She seemed unimpressed. “Or something,” she replied, and the way she said it oozed with sarcasm. She gestured to him. “Is this how you always dress, half naked, flaunting that perfect chest?”

Damn, her eyes were the same dark brown as the girl’s, and he didn’t miss the anger simmering below the surface.

“Just got out of the shower, and this is all I managed to pull on,” he said. “Word of advice, Jenny: We’re neighbors. It would be better to get along, and so far, you’re not off to a great start.”

He just couldn’t help himself, and he wasn’t sure what the amused grin on his brother’s face was about as Jenny narrowed her eyes, lifted her middle finger to him, and then stepped into the house and shut the door.

“Wow, you really have a way with women,” Marcus said with a laugh.

Ryan just stepped down and took in the house a nice old woman had once lived in. God damn it, did he miss her. “It’s a gift,” he said, then lifted his hand to his brother as he cut across the grass, still barefoot. “See you at Mom’s tomorrow.”

“Hey, Ryan, word of advice?” Marcus called out.

He turned, resting his hands on his hips, not saying anything, knowing his brother had something on his mind.

“Next time, call me first,” Marcus said. “Seen this before, and it ain’t pretty. Remember, your territory’s the woods, the park. Mine is this town. If a young girl calls the cops and makes up a story, a stupid schmuck could walk right into it and land in jail. It never ends well for the stupid schmuck, so don’t let that be you.” Marcus let out a sigh and shook his head. “She’s trouble,” he added. “Steer clear—and it’s your turn to bring the beer tomorrow.”

Ryan watched as his brother climbed into his cruiser, flicked off the still flashing lights, and drove away. He wasn’t sure what made him look back to the house next door, but when he did, he was positive the girl was watching him from the upstairs window.

ChapterTwo

“So what you’re saying is this isn’t your vehicle, and you didn’t know you had to have a license to operate it in the park, and insurance, and actual tires?” Ryan said as he took in the two good ol’ boys who had been ripping around the park in a souped-up pickup.

They had said their names were Bob and Darren. Bob shrugged, while Darren just stared at him with dark eyes as if still trying to figure out what his story was.

“Words, please, or do you not speak English?” Ryan said. “Again, I’m going to ask you one more time, any weapons on you or in the truck?”

“It’s not as if it’s a real road or anything,” Darren said. He had to be at least five inches shorter than Bob. “Got a pistol, is all, for protection. I’m entitled to have a gun.”

“And where is this pistol? You have it on you, or is it in the truck?” Ryan rested his hand on his heavy belt, feeling his holstered revolver. He’d lost count of the times he’d felt the need to reach for it. He was starting to get that feeling again.

“Glovebox, right? That’s where you said you shoved it?” said Bob, who seemed unusually nervous.

Darren just stared at him and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right, just a harmless little pistol.”

“You two weren’t also shooting out the window, were you? Or do you need a minute to change your story? Some hikers called in about a tireless truck screeching through the park, firing off a gun. I want both of you to lift your shirts and turn around right now,” he snapped and waited, not expecting an answer.

Darren lifted his grimy white T-shirt, and Bob followed. Ryan scanned their white bellies and gestured for them to turn around, his other hand resting on the butt of his gun. He took in the pistol shoved in the back of Darren’s baggy jeans and reached for it, pulling it out.

“Okay, link your fingers together, hands on your heads. Lie to me again and I’ll cuff both of you. You forget that you were carrying a gun, or were you planning on pulling it on me? If I search your truck, what am I going to find?”

“No, sir,” said Darren, shaking his head. His thick arms were sunburned, with a scratch on one forearm. “Listen, I just forgot it was there, is all. Thought I’d stuck it in the glovebox. Simple mistake. And it’s just junk in the truck, not mine. Borrowed the truck from a friend, so don’t know what all he’s got in there.”

Ryan checked the gun, seeing it was loaded with one in the chamber, and he didn’t miss the scent of gunpowder, a sign it had recently been fired. He emptied the bullets and tucked the gun in his waistband at the small of his back, feeling the midday sun beating down on him. Beads of sweat dripped down his spine, and his damp short-sleeved dark shirt clung to his back. “Right now, I want you both to pull your wallets from your back pockets and show me your IDs.” He didn’t pull off his shades as both did so.

“Told ya, though, I forgot my license,” Darren said. He was missing one of his lower front teeth. He appeared to be the older one, early thirties, whereas Bob was tall and lanky, mid-twenties, give or take. Ryan didn’t buy anything they were saying. It was just that feeling he got when he knew someone was hiding something.

“Right, and you think I haven’t heard that before? Open up your wallets. I want to see something with your names on it.”

They both gave an awkward shuffle, and he took in the truck. Both doors were open, but he had blocked their exit by parking his four by four across the trail. When people saw him standing in front of his rig, cutting off their escape, it was always the same. These assholes figured they could do whatever they wanted in his park, believing it was their personal playland. Only once had he had to pull his gun on a driver to get him to stop.

Darren opened his wallet first, and Ryan could see the cards that filled the slots. He pulled out a Montana license, expired, with the name Dirk Hoskins. Sweat lined his brow. His dark greasy hair hung to his shoulders, and it was thin and balding in front.

“Look, we weren’t causing no harm,” Bob said. “It’s not as if it’s a real road, anyway. Just having some fun and blowing off steam, you know.” He actually laughed as he said it, then pulled out an Idaho license with the name Ronald Steele.

Ryan glanced at the photos. Just the bugged-out expression in both showed the resemblance. “Hate to tell both of you this, but driving an unregistered vehicle in the park isn’t allowed. And your way of blowing off steam could have killed someone. Let me guess: You forgot your license was in your wallet? One valid, one expired. You’re both in deep shit.”

Darren, or rather Dirk, shrugged.

“So explain this to me, Bob and Darren. Why are your names listed on these licenses as Dirk and Ronald?”

Ronald swallowed.

“So which is it, is the license fake, or did you just lie to a federal officer and give me a false name?” Ryan said. The expressions on their faces said everything. “Okay, let me help you out here before you dig yourselves in any deeper. I’m going to run your licenses, and the best option is to be straight with me, because if you lie to me one more time, you’ll find yourselves cuffed and tossed in the back, then behind bars. I can come up with a dozen charges just off the top of my head.”

“Okay, okay, didn’t mean to lie, sir,” Dirk said. “We weren’t hurting nobody, just having some fun. It’s just the park, the trails, not a real road…”

“Hate to tell you this, but you can get in a shitload of trouble for driving in a park, and you do need to have a properly registered vehicle, with papers and insurance and a valid driver’s license. Then there’s shooting off a gun in a national park…” He took in both the men, wondering if they’d keep arguing.

“Well, sir, I’m sorry,” Dirk said. “We didn’t realize. Can you let us off with a warning?”

He just took in the men, seeing another two who fit on his asshole scale, then shook his head, opened up the back of his four by four, and gestured inside. “Nope. Climb in. I’ll give you a ride back to the station, where I’ll write up your fines. The truck will be towed in, and you can tell your story again before a judge.”

* * *

It was after five when he pulled up in front of the one-story bungalow where he’d grown up. Looked like some of his siblings were already there. He parked behind Owen’s white cargo van, emblazoned with the logo of his plumbing company. Suzanne’s work-in-progress red 1970 MGB was in the driveway behind Karen’s practical four-door Honda. He stepped out of his rig just as Marcus pulled up in his cruiser, and he reached for two cases of beer in his back seat, one the stout his sister preferred and the other the light ale he and Marcus always went for.

“Heard you nailed those assholes ripping up the park,” Marcus said. “Aren’t they the same ones who’ve been causing all that ruckus out there over the last few weeks?”

Ryan handed off one of the cases and shoved the back door closed. “Not sure, maybe. Should’ve seen their faces when they saw me standing there. Damn near crapped their pants. It was fantastic.” He laughed. “But at least now they’ll think twice about heading into the park.”

Especially considering the fines he’d slapped on them. Ryan and Marcus strode across the lawn, which had been littered with bikes more than a decade ago. His mom had just painted the front door a vibrant red.

“Just another asshole, right?” Marcus added.

Ryan wanted to roll his eyes, but he grunted instead as his brother headed first through the door. He could smell garlic from the roast beef he knew their mom was cooking. The game was on TV, and voices came from the kitchen as he took in his image in the mirrored coat closet that greeted everyone the minute they walked through the door. Yeah, his ranger’s uniform was dusty, and his mom would tell him he needed a haircut.

He wiped his black boots and went down the two steps into the front room, seeing his brother Luke on the sofa, his long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. His blue O’Connell eyes were filled with an odd watchfulness that followed Ryan’s every move.

“Toss me one of those beers,” Luke said.

Ryan rested the case on the sofa table, ripped open the top, and lifted out two of the cold ales. He handed one to Luke, who always sat in the same spot when they visited his mom: the corner of the sofa in the corner of the room, with the wall behind him.

“You go out today?” Ryan asked. Luke was home for nine days on leave from the military—special forces, he knew, but where exactly he and his team had been, he didn’t. That was what they didn’t talk about.

“Yup. Montana State is behind.” Luke gestured to the TV and downed half the beer. Okay, so they were still at that point. It would be another day or two before Luke would get off the sofa and have a real conversation.

“Hey, heard you had some trouble last night,” his mom said as she strode out of the kitchen in light blue capris and a blue tank top. She was still slim and stylish, with short dark hair. She set a stack of plates on the dining room table.

“Oh, and who did you hear that from?” Ryan said. It was a ridiculous question, considering Marcus just couldn’t help himself from sharing everything with their mom. He always had.

“Trouble? You, Ryan?” Suzanne added with a ton of sarcasm. She was in baggy shorts and an oversized T-shirt, carrying one of the stouts he’d brought.

“Just a problem with a neighbor that should now be rectified,” he said—that was, if the mom actually followed through and kept her daughter in line. But there was something about her that seemed so familiar. The thought had popped into his head a time or two already that day, and he’d racked his brain to figure out where they’d met.

“That’s not what Marcus said,” Suzanne called out from behind him, where she now sat beside Luke on the sofa. He turned to see she had her bare feet up on the coffee table.

“What the hell did Marcus say? Marcus, what the fuck did you tell everyone?”

His mom lifted a brow before she walked back into the kitchen, and Suzanne’s lips twitched as she lifted the beer to take a swallow. She was always messing with him.

“You talking about your new neighbors?” Marcus appeared, Karen behind him. She was the only one of them to inherit their mom’s shortness, standing at barely over five feet, wearing a gray sundress, her hair dyed vibrant red and pulled up into a messy bun.

“Heard she’s hot,” Suzanne added.

“And heard she comes with a kid who’s trouble.” Karen pointed her wineglass, likely filled with the same Chablis she always drank, toward Ryan as she sauntered across the living room.

“And he said you knew each other?” Owen strode in from the kitchen, his jeans torn at the knee and faded T-shirt wrinkled.

Their mom reappeared, setting a breadbasket in the middle of the table. She lifted a brow again, and Ryan dragged his gaze back over to Marcus, who was standing there with a big shit-eating grin as he lifted his beer. He really loved stirring things up.

“Is there anything you can keep to yourself?” Ryan snapped.

Marcus just shrugged. “What can I say, Ryan? You seem to attract trouble, drama, and…”

“Difficult women,” Luke added, which had everyone looking at him. He was showing the first signs of emerging from his war headspace, which he’d been living in since arriving a few days earlier.

“So where do you know her from?” Karen asked as she perched on the stool of the chair opposite Luke.

Everyone gave him their undivided attention, and he lifted his beer, took a swallow, and breathed out before doing what dickheads did when they didn’t want to answer: He shrugged and said, “Can’t remember, but when I do, I’ll be sure not to tell Marcus.”

ChapterThree

Jenny was on her knees in the dirt, pulling out the last of the dried flowers that had died weeks ago, when she spotted Ryan O’Connell pulling into his driveway in a ranger’s vehicle emblazoned with the logo of the Montana Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks.

From what she could see, he hadn’t changed one bit. He was still the same tall, broad-shouldered, arrogant asshole she fondly remembered, and she was reeling over the fact that he lived right next door to her! Like, what kind of sick joke was this?

He stepped out of his vehicle in his uniform, and the way he walked with his holstered gun, she couldn’t pull her gaze from him. She peered at him from between the rusty Hyundai she was still trying to sell and her newer used little Jeep, and she sat up straighter, remembering that her tank top barely covered her practical bra. She knew the gleaming white showed at the sides, and she pulled at the blue spaghetti strap of her cotton tank to cover herself. What could she say? Going braless wasn’t an option with her generous C cups.

“See you’re finally getting around to cleaning up that mess?” he said, looking right at her from over the tops of his mirrored shades. He walked across her driveway and onto her grass as if she’d invited him over.

Even the way he said it had her fighting her first instinct, which was to hit back at him with some cutting remark. Instead, she just fisted her hands as she rested them on her thighs and took in the pile of dead annuals in the dirt. She didn’t have a clue what they once had been, considering she didn’t have a green thumb on her.

“I guess it’s a matter of opinion, really,” she said. “Not sure why you’re offering yours to me.” Ooh, she wanted to pat herself on the back. She sensed that his smile and soft chuckle were not from humor, and he lifted his gaze, taking in everything about her aunt’s house.

“I knew the woman who lived here for years. She was a fantastic, generous, sweet lady who knew how to be a neighbor—you know, respectful, courteous. She really took pride in her place. It’s gone downhill. Likely a little too much for you to look after?”

Yup, she got the zinger. Apparently he had a cruel streak, too, considering he was commenting on her character. She had to fight the urge to roll her shoulders. This was the kind of judgy shit she hated, and it never got old with assholes who thought they knew her.

“Guess a privileged white boy like you would think that,” she snapped. “You see a woman and her daughter alone and they’re, what, not capable because neither has a penis?” She took in the shock on his face as he pulled off his shades and tucked them in his shirtfront.

“Uh, no,” he said in a low voice, though he didn’t have the decency to even look embarrassed at having been called out. In fact, he took a step closer, and she had to tilt her head to look up. “This privileged white boy, as you so aptly put it, lived next door to a single old woman who had one of the nicest yards and gardens in the area. She made everything about it look easy. And I was raised by a single mom of six who worked harder than three white men put together and never asked for help. Just stating what I see.”

Nothing like having him point out that she was the one who’d just jammed her foot in her mouth. She could feel her face heat, and she had to pull in a breath and try to regain what she could of her dignity before she came out looking like a bigger idiot. She pressed her tongue against her top teeth as she stared up at Ryan, whose eyes were bluer than she remembered. Perpetual tan, good looks. She had to pull it together.

“Well, this has been fun,” she said. “Are you done pointing out my shortcomings, or maybe you have a few more digs you’d like to add?”

He didn’t smile this time, but his gaze seemed intense, hard. “So you bought this and moved in a few weeks ago. Just you and your daughter live here? You didn’t say last night if there was a husband, boyfriend, significant other in the picture or any other kids.”

She hadn’t bought the house, but she wasn’t about to share that with Ryan. “As I said, it’s just me and my daughter.” Something about kneeling in front of a man didn’t work for her, so she brushed her hands together to wipe off some non-existent dirt, pressed them to the grass, scooted her feet around, and stood up.

Ryan didn’t even step back. Just the scent of him made her angry, because it was too appealing. She let her arms hang to her sides even when he allowed his gaze to skim over her. It was intimate and egotistical and indecent, as if he thought looking at her was his God-given right. His arms were crossed over that amazing chest, which she’d felt skin to skin just one time.

“Your daughter…” he started, and she knew he was waiting for her to step in.

“You mean Alison? Yes, my daughter.” She fisted her hands again and could feel her nails digging into her palms.

This time, he did smile, and he pulled his gaze over to the house. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was interrogating her. “Yeah, Alison. You have a talk with her about the noise? It’s been going on every night since you moved here. I’m assuming you’re not home at night? She’s like, what, sixteen, seventeen…”

Oh, here we go. The topic of Alison wasn’t open for discussion. “She’s almost fifteen, and I work afternoons, evenings. Again, I told you the noise won’t happen anymore. I know about it now, and I put my foot down.”

Actually, her daughter was fourteen and three months, nowhere close to being fifteen. Regarding the stereo, Jenny had yanked the audio connection from the speaker and hid it in her underwear drawer, because her daughter hadn’t been known for her compliance as of late, as illustrated by the nose ring two weeks earlier and the jet-black hair the previous week.

“Where do you work?” Ryan asked. Boy, she was really getting the sense of a full-out interrogation.

“Mini-mart,” she said. Counting cash in the back room and reconciling statements for the small grocery store was the only job she was qualified for, considering her late husband had been the sole breadwinner—his insistence and her mistake.

“So you work for Joel.”

What was it about the way Ryan spoke? She wondered what he was holding back. She had to fight the urge to lean in or yell and ask him what the fuck he wanted with her, to stop toying with her.

“Yes, so if that’s all…” she started before those blue eyes zeroed in on her again.

“Can’t figure out where we met. I’m pretty good with faces, and you didn’t answer me last night.”

She didn’t want to answer him now, either, but he showed no intention of leaving. Maybe his stubborn streak had been what attracted her, the idea of a strong-minded male. She had to force the image of him and that night she’d never forget, being underneath him, from her mind.

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing,” she said. “You picked me up at the Lighthouse Bar, took me home with you, and screwed my brains out. Apparently, I wasn’t that memorable. Not sure how to take that.”

There it was: the first time she’d seen him rattled. She would’ve taken some enjoyment from it if her ego hadn’t taken such a shit-kicking at the thought of being so forgettable.

Then she heard a beep. The smoke alarm—hers. Dammit, Alison! What the hell had she gone and done now?

ChapterFour

Very few people had the ability to shock Ryan anymore, as he would’ve sworn he’d seen and heard just about everything. Except now, as Jenny raced into the house, all he could do was stand there and stare, trying to picture her and place her face from his memory of a night so long ago.

She had basically called him out as a despicable bad boy. Jenny was slim and curvy, with long legs, a generous bust under her faded tank top, and a great ass, from what he could see by the sway of it under her short shorts. She was not someone he’d easily forget, and he was stuck on the Lighthouse Bar.

Like, what the fuck? It wasn’t as if Ryan was a boy scout, but at the same time… It was in that second that the familiarity about his new neighbor, which he hadn’t been able to put his finger on, hit home—the where, when, and how.

It had been a long time ago, before he was a ranger.

He pulled his hand over his jaw, barely hearing the scrape of whiskers over the constant sharp beeping of the smoke detector from inside the house.

He could hear voices, shouting, and something of the discord between mother and daughter as he found himself walking up the steps and taking in the open screen door, assessing everything. Through the smoke, he could see the girl. What the hell was her name? Right, Alison. And then there was Jenny, who was standing now on a stool that appeared to have seen better days, reaching for the smoke detector.

“Is there a fire?” he called out, his cell phone already in his hand, just as the beeping stopped.

“Just my daughter,” Jenny snapped, holding the detector battery.

He automatically held out his hand to take the battery and help her down, and she hesitated only a second before accepting it. The teen who seemed to be the source of every problem was swatting the smoke that billowed from the stove. There was just something about her that he recognized. She was badass, looking for trouble, with a major chip on her shoulder.

“I told you to dump that pan in the sink! Why weren’t you watching it…?” Jenny yelled as she strode back into the kitchen.

With a better view now, Ryan didn’t miss the fact that Alison’s jet-black hair was spiked and suddenly short. What had she done, hacked it off with scissors? It appeared that way, considering the mess it was in. As he moved closer, he could see through the smoke that she wore a nose ring and heavy eye makeup, and her shorts were absolutely indecent. The tank she wore was loose and backless. She wasn’t saying anything as Jenny took the fry pan, flames still flickering inside, and dumped it in the sink. Smoke billowed again, but the smoke detector was now disabled.

He rested the battery on the island, which was covered in cans, boxes, and packaging, and then walked over to the back door to pull it open to let some of the smoke out.

“Seriously, Alison, what is this now, the silent treatment?” Jenny said. “You’re not two years old. You could have burned the house down. How many times have I told you that you don’t put something on the stove and walk away and leave it unattended? You know better. You’re supposed to be responsible, yet all you’ve done since we’ve moved here is cause trouble. Whenever something happens, all I can think is ‘What have you gone and done now?’”

Of course, what did Alison do but roll her eyes? He sensed that she was about to dish out some attitude, but she didn’t have to say a word. She crossed her arms over her chest, her body too much like a grown woman’s for a girl who was all about trouble.

“You’re the one who insisted on moving here without giving me a choice,” Alison said. “I had a life in Atlanta. My friends were there. You completely destroyed my life, so I’d say you’re getting exactly what you deserve. You screwed with my social life and basically said to hell with me. It was all about what you wanted…”

“Oh, stop it, already,” Jenny said. “You know we had to leave. I had no choices, Alison. We had no choice, so instead of causing problems, how about you be part of the solution and try to make the best of it?”

“Blah blah blah, same old⁠—”

“Hey, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Ryan snapped, cutting off the teenage attitude and the back-and-forth between mom and daughter, which seemed to be spiralling downward into a battle of wills that wouldn’t go anywhere.

Both Jenny and Alison stared at him in that minute, maybe from shock or surprise or something. He walked back into the center of the kitchen and stood there, feeling very much like a referee.

“What the fuck is he doing in here?” Alison jabbed her finger his way.

The smoke wasn’t as thick now with the doors open, front and back, but his eyes were still burning. He gave everything to the kid. How old was she, fifteen going on trouble? She had a smart mouth on her, and he didn’t miss the annoyance in Jenny’s tone when she replied.

“Ryan was outside,” she said. “We were talking when you set the smoke detector off. And watch your mouth, Alison—and, while we’re at it, clean up this mess you made. We need to talk about a few things, establish some ground rules.”

He understood the way Jenny snapped at her daughter, but at the same time, he could see it wasn’t accomplishing anything. The girl just wasn’t reasonable.

Ryan sensed a lot of unresolved issues between the two of them, but now he had an answer to at least one of his questions. So she had moved from Atlanta. He took in the mess of the kitchen, the dirty dishes, the packaging and open cans and boxes stacked on the table and floor. Still moving in, it appeared.

Jenny was walking his way, pulling at the spaghetti strap of her tank, which didn’t cover her wide bra strap. There was something about the motion that made him unable to pull his eyes from her bust. He dragged his gaze up to her face, round, cute, with eyes the color of taffy. Her body too was unforgettable, and she tried to wrap her arms around herself as if she was uncomfortable, but all it did was accentuate the size of her breasts. He realized he was staring, and he had to force himself to look at her face again. Was that how he had acted the night he’d met her?

“See anything you like?” she said, and he didn’t think she was happy.

He didn’t say anything. He knew he should be embarrassed, but there was something about her. He wasn’t sure what to make of her demeanor, her sass, her attitude. His memories of her didn’t seem to fit the woman who was standing before him now, unsmiling.

“I told you I was good with faces,” he said. “So, the Lighthouse Bar… How many years ago was it, Jenny, or Jennifer, or Jenn? I suppose this should make things awkward. So you came from Atlanta, just you and your daughter, why?” He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her, and he wasn’t sure what to make of her expression.

She made a rude noise and stepped closer to him before glancing over her shoulder to Alison, who appeared to be listening to everything. Then she rested her hand on his arm. Her touch was soft, her fingers slender. “It’s Jenny, just Jenny. Can I talk to you outside, please?” she said, her voice low.

He suspected her pissed-off tone was from the round with her daughter, but at least now he knew what he’d done to set her on edge. He found himself following her outside after taking a last look at Alison in the kitchen. She was the kind of kid he’d come across one too many times, looking for trouble and landing in it.

Jenny made a point of closing the door and rested her hand on her hip, looking down at the gray porch. He could see she was thinking of something to say, and from how on edge she was, he didn’t think it was polite conversation she had in mind.

She lifted her gaze to him again. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have my daughter knowing about us and what happened. It was years ago, and as you can see, it’s the kind of thing she’d hold over me. Besides, it was a long time ago, so how about we skip going down memory lane? I’d say it’s great to see you, but it isn’t, really, because apparently I’m so unmemorable that you didn’t even remember me. And you know what? It’s fine. I don’t need you to remember me. Actually, I’d prefer it, and you have my permission to ignore me completely over here. Don’t be neighborly, don’t come over, don’t even say hi. You mind your business, and I’ll mind mine…” She gestured to him with the flat of her hand, a motion to leave. When he didn’t move, she strode down the steps ahead of him, making another rude noise.

Ryan took his time on the stairs, walking down, trying to figure out why she was so angry. “You don’t know what I’m thinking or what I remember, so don’t put words in my mouth,” he said. “You said you just moved back here from Atlanta? Guess that would explain a lot, but at the same time, I’m having trouble understanding your attitude toward me.” He was wondering what was different about her, too.

She stood for a second in shock, and her entire body seemed to still. “You don’t understand my attitude toward a man who’s the love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy? You picked me up, slept with me, and…”

“Get your story straight.” He cut her off. “Seems there were two of us involved, and you’re the one who walked over to me in that bar. You were offering, and you bet I took you up on it. At the same time, where were you when I woke up?”

Her eyes widened. It was always the same when he called someone out. Her breath squeaked, her face flushed, and she said nothing.

“Gone is where you were,” he said. “I reached over in my bed, expecting warm skin, a warm body, but instead I touched cool sheets. If you really want to do the finger-pointing thing, it was you, Jenny, who ran out on me.”

ChapterFive

“I’ve left several messages for you, and you haven’t called back. As I said in every one of my messages, this can’t wait. This is a matter of urgency. The situation is becoming untenable with your daughter, and I must speak with you and your husband.”

Jenny had her cell phone pressed to her ear, still feeling the knot in her stomach after seeing the name of Alison’s school on her cell phone and knowing they wouldn’t call unless there was a problem.

She pulled open the bottom drawer of her steel desk and lifted out her purse. She was in a jean skirt, and her legs were bare, her shoes flat and practical. “I’m sorry. You said this is…”

“Mrs. Kramer, the principal at the high school.”

Right. She pressed her hand to her forehead. Just on the other side of the door, her boss was talking with some customers. She hoped he’d stay out there and leave her in the now empty office, as it made it easier to talk.

“I see,” she said. “I didn’t get a message, I’m sorry. You called my cell phone, not my home?”

“I called your home, several times. Left messages for both you and your husband.”

She pulled the phone away, hearing the woman still talking, and silently cursed her daughter under her breath, calling her every name she could think of and wanting to put her hands on her and shake her. Of course, Alison had probably deleted the messages. Who else had called? There was also the fact that the principal was asking about her husband.

She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kramer, but I didn’t get a message. If I did, I’d have called you. I’m just at work right now, but…”

“I’m sorry to call you there, but this is a situation that can’t wait. I need to meet with you now.” There was something about the way she spoke, the demand, that didn’t quite sit right. Jenny sensed the principal’s annoyance loud and clear. That was just something her daughter was gifted at, pushing everyone’s buttons, especially hers.

She stood up, seeing the time on the big round analog clock, eleven thirty. It was close enough to lunch. “Well, I’m at work, as I said, but I’m about to step out for lunch. I could stop by.” She looked at the door again and spotted her boss, Joel, who was ten years her junior, coming her way. He was balding, with a beard, a little on the heavy side. She put everything into the call now, determined to get off the phone before he walked back in. Family problems and unruly teenagers were exactly what she couldn’t bring into work if she wanted to keep her job.

“So you’re on your way, then.” The principal had a way of talking that made Jenny feel herself beginning to sweat. She was unable to shake the idea that she’d just been called in to the principal’s office.

“Yes, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said, then hung up just as the door opened and Joel strode in. He gave everything to her in a look. At times, she didn’t know what to make of him and couldn’t tell what he thought of her.

“I’m going to take off for lunch, if that’s okay?” she said and dumped her phone in her purse, then rested it on the desk, which was neat and tidy. Standing there waiting for the man to tell her it was okay was humbling, just another reason her job was nothing more than a job. Money didn’t grow on trees, so there she was.

“You get the statement of reconciliation over to Clive, and the overages?” Joel said. Right, he was still second-guessing everything she did. He looked hard at her, or rather at her breasts.

“An hour ago,” she said.

Then he was at his desk against the other wall, lifting papers and giving everything to them. For a second, she didn’t think he would answer about lunch, and she pulled in a breath and waited.

He finally lifted his gaze after what felt like minutes but she knew had been only a few seconds, as if he’d decided what she could do. That was something she hated, being treated like a child.

“Sure, just make sure you punch out, as well,” he said.

That was another reason why Joel was the boss of this chain, because he was even better at pinching pennies for the corporation than she suspected the CEOs were themselves. God forbid they had to pay an employee an extra five dollars, but she forced a smile to her face, taking in his frown.

“Absolutely,” she said, although she wondered at times whether he even went through the timecards to make sure everyone had actually punched out.

It took her nine minutes to drive to the school, and she pulled into the student parking lot because there wasn’t a spot left in the staff parking. She stepped out, feeling the angst, and pulled out her cell phone as she took in the teens leaning against an old Plymouth. She locked the door of the Jeep, then pulled up her daughter’s name and sent off a quick text.

Are you in class?

Three dots appeared. Why?

She rolled her shoulders. Alison knew every one of her buttons to push, including how to not answer a question.

Your principal called. She started walking around the kids and into the school, waiting for her daughter to respond.

She could see the three dots as if Alison was thinking of what to say, but then there was nothing.

No idea why she’d call me? Jenny wrote. Two could play that game.

Three dots appeared again. What did she say?