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

some type of comfort. “As long as we live, there’ll be people in the world who do senseless crap. But I hope you’re not still blaming yourself for not being able to help him.”

She shook her head and blew out a rough breath. “I know there was nothing I could do, but it still bothers me that I cowered and did nothing.”

Trace grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look at him. “Sweetheart, you probably did more than anyone else did or could’ve done. You gave the authorities a lead. A lead that they hadn’t gotten with the other robberies. With your information and what they should be able to pull from security footage, hopefully they’ll have those assholes in custody in no time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Trace hoped so, too, because the sooner those guys were behind bars, the less he’d worry about Connie. Until then, she was going to see a lot more of him, whether she liked it or not.

CHAPTER 6

“I made the right decision in not letting Trace stay the night,” Connie said as she drove her sister to the next house that the real-estate agent wanted Erica to see. “Besides, I didn’t trust myself.”

After hearing the news about Richard’s death, it would’ve been easy to fall into bed with Trace. Anything to take her mind off the day, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t use him like that, even though she wanted him more than she had ever wanted another man. But since she told him that they could only be friends, she had to stick by that decision and not send mixed signals. It was going to be hard, but she had to stand firm.

“Come on, sis. I hope you’re not letting a couple of bad relationships keep you from hooking up with a good guy. I don’t know Trace, but from the way you talk about him, I know he’s a catch. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Connie glanced at her sister, then returned her attention to the road. “Who said you’re going to meet him? He and I are just friends. Nothing else.”

Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would sink in. Before the electricity had come back on, Connie had struggled to keep her hands to herself. There was no way Trace could’ve stayed. She would’ve wanted a repeat of the night they’d shared a month ago.

“I don’t agree with you, but, hey, if you want to live the rest of your life alone, then who am I to stand in your way?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you,” Connie said as she entered a neighborhood that had a mixture of older homes and new buildings. For the past month, she’d been tagging along with her sister to look at real estate and enjoying every minute of it.

“Thanks for driving today. It feels good to not have to be the chauffeur for a change. Between gymnastics, Girl Scouts and playdates, your niece has me running all over town,” Erica said.

“No problem.” Connie parked her BMW in front of the house that had a large For Sale sign in the yard. “Besides, your driving makes me nervous. Chauffeuring you around for a change helps me keep my sanity.”

“You are not funny.” Erica laughed, despite her words, then slowly sobered as she stared out the passenger window at the beautiful home. “I still can’t believe I’m actually looking at houses to buy.”

The melancholy lacing her words pierced Connie in the chest. Two years ago, she thought Erica would never recover from the death of her husband. Connie had never seen two people more in love than Erica and Kevin. They had given her hope that a happily-ever-after was possible.

That all ended when Kevin was killed on his way to work. He had stopped to get gasoline and a cup of coffee, but while he was inside the gas station, a robbery was taking place. He and one other person were killed. Erica had been inconsolable, especially knowing she’d have to raise their daughter alone. Nakia had been five at the time.

Connie had been living in Los Angeles, overseeing LEPA’s other office. She had spent a few weeks with her sister and niece after Kevin’s death, then made the trip from LA to Vegas once or twice a month to check on them. When Trinity had suggested Connie relocate and run the Vegas office, she’d leaped at the opportunity. It had only taken a couple of months to get her life in order and find an executive to oversee the LA location.

“What do you think so far?” Connie asked as she took in the two-car attached garage that seemed to dominate the front of the home.

Living in Vegas, she was getting used to the desert scenery, and this home’s front yard was beautiful. The grassless landscaping, with gravel and mulch, had two short palm trees, cacti, agave plants and a few other blooming flowers.

“Not bad, even though I’m not a fan of the front-facing garage. It’s like the first thing I noticed when we pulled up to the house,” Erica said.

“True, but at least it’s attached to the house, unlike mine.” Not only was her garage a stand-alone, but it also could barely accommodate one small car and offered no space for storage.

As they trekked up the walkway, the front door opened. “Hey, you two.” Angela, the real-estate agent, stood on the concrete stoop. “Hopefully, you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

Connie followed them into the house. “No trouble at all.”

The smell of fresh paint greeted them at the door. The home had a partially open floor plan. The stairs to the second floor were just beyond the living room and a short hallway led to what looked like the kitchen and dining area.

Angela handed them each a sheet of paper. “Here is the home’s spec. As you can see, Erica, it’s under your budget and still in your daughter’s school district.”

“That’s great.”

Looking at the house with her sister made Connie think about her