Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

all of it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the bruises still on your throat.”

“I told you I ran into trouble. Stanton was there. He saved my life, I realize now. And has again since then, too. Twice.”

“That’s why I told Dad, sis. If anything ever happened to you...” Soledad’s matching dark eyes filled with tears. Dominique shared her sister’s concern, because she felt the exact same way about her twin.

“I know. And I’m sorry that I haven’t kept you up on all of the story’s developments.”

“I don’t care about the story, this one or any other, as much as I care about you. I want to know what you’re thinking, and what you’re feeling.” Soledad poked her in the chest for emphasis. Right over her heart, a heart that raced at the emotions this conversation had set free. As if unbridled by Stanton last night while they made love, her hormones raced around, and it wasn’t solely about sex anymore.

Was this deep longing in her soul, the one she’d ignored for the last two years, not only due to her breakup with Stanton, but in fact an unrecognized-by-her biological clock’s incessant ticking? More likely, it was her extreme regret that she hadn’t given Stanton another chance. Heard him out, and allowed him to hear her out, after things had settled. Because if she had, they might be at a point now where having kids wouldn’t feel so strange. Where they both accepted each other’s jobs, and the inherent risks with them. Wasn’t that what two mature, loving partners did?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have. Of my past, present and future.”

Soledad rolled her eyes. “Stop making it so dramatic. It doesn’t have to be a twisted Dickens plot. There’s nothing more natural than wanting to settle down, have a home, build a family, if that’s what is right for you.”

“Maybe.” She’d focused on her career so much and had thought she’d found the perfect partner in Stanton, before. Before he’d decided that the only relationship they could have would be if she’d quit her job, or at least switched to “safer” stories, and have his babies. But had he ever asked her to quit? Or demanded that he wanted kids? As she reviewed that painful day, all he’d been asking her, and insisting upon, was that they marry. And that yes, he wanted children as soon as possible. But could she have convinced him to wait?

“What? Tell me, sister.”

“I know it’s not like me, but these past days with Stanton have got me thinking. Maybe it isn’t such an awful idea to think we could have made a go of it. And you know how you’re always saying you can feel your eggs screaming for a baby daddy?” They both giggled. “You know what I mean. I think mine are, too, but I ignored it before. Shoved it down.”

“So you, Dominique de la Vega, are admitting that—gasp—your biological clock is ticking?”

“I suppose I am.” But it wasn’t a purely biological event. It had everything to do with the sexy man standing in her dad’s kitchen, laughing and talking with her relatives as though he were part of the family, too.

“What does Stanton think?”

“I haven’t mentioned any of this to him, how could I?” At Soledad’s mind-meld stare, she relented. “Oh. My. Goodness. I think I may have made a huge mistake with one of the people who meant the most to me.” Recrimination reared its nasty head and pried at her peace of mind, what little she had left. “What a mess I’ve made of things.”

“Well, duh. He was stupid to give you an ultimatum about marriage two years ago, and you were equally idiotic to not answer his texts and calls. We’ve already determined this. That doesn’t matter now. My point is, what are you going to do about it today?”

“I, I’m—”

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her red leather cross-body bag. It was from her senior editor.

Hamm witness wants to talk to you on landline in office. Come in ASAP.

She looked at Soledad, who stared at her with expectation. “Spill it, Dominique. What are you going to do about Stanton now?”

“I’m not doing anything but getting to the Grave Gulch Gazette. I’ve got a break in my story.”

“We haven’t even sung ‘Feliz Cumpleaños’ yet. Dad has to blow out his candles. All fifty-nine of them.”

“More like put them out with a fire extinguisher.” At Soledad’s shocked gasp she laughed. “I’m teasing. He’s the one who said he’s too old for birthdays.”

“Fifty-nine isn’t old.” Soledad stood with her and held out her hand. “Give me your cup. You go and do whatever you have to.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” She kissed Soledad on the cheek, gave her a big hug and relished the resounding hug back. There was no one who knew her better than her sister.

Except perhaps one man, who stared at her from the kitchen with unmistakable admiration. And maybe something more that flickered in those indigo depths.

* * *

Stanton recognized Dominique’s straight-spined posture, her purposeful strides toward the kitchen as confirmation that the text he watched her read was important.

Her perfume reached him a split second before she did and his nostrils soaked it up. As if being separated for the last half hour was a lifetime. He stifled a groan, the urge to get out of the house, away from her. Away from a second broken heart. He had a job to complete, and he would. Then they’d be out of each other’s lives again.

“What is it?”

“I have to go into the Gazette offices.” She held up her phone so that he could read the text. His stomach clenched as he realized what this might mean. Besides giving Dominique her story, the witness who lied on the stand and sent Charlie to prison might very well know who attacked her.

“What are you talking about, going into work?” Rigo’s rich tenor flowed across the kitchen and he watched the interaction between father and daughter.