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He slid his hands to her elbows, stopping her. “I’m not treating our first time together like we’re teenagers looking for a fast thrill in a game room. We’re not only too old for that, we deserve better.”
Dusting her hands as if she was done, she hurried away. “Fine. This is all I have, Bryce. All I can do.”
He touched her shoulder and she stopped. Did she want him to change her mind? Show her how much he cared about her? “If it were me … If our positions were reversed, and I was the one with scars, what would you do right now, Kylie? Would you let me run away? Continue to be afraid?” She covered her face. “I am afraid.”
He could barely hear her. He asked just as quietly, “Of me?”
“Strangely enough, no. But yes, maybe of you most of all.”
Gunslinger
Angi Morgan
ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi’s work has been a finalist for numerous awards, including the Booksellers’ Best Award and the Daphne du Maurier Award. Angi and her husband live in north Texas.
Visit her website, www.angimorgan.com, or follow her on Facebook at Angi Morgan Books. She loves to hang out with fans in her closed group: bit.ly/angifriends.
There is never a book completed without my pals Jan and Robin.
This one also goes to my wonderful agent, Jill, and to the patience of my amazing editor, Allison! Thanks, ladies, for hanging in there with me.
Contents
Austin, Texas, five years ago
Sissy Jorgenson-Tenoreno attempted a smile at her friends to make the empty parking lot less spooky. It didn’t work. “This is an odd place to meet, even for Xander.”
The food truck’s inside lights were glowing. So were the Christmas lights strung around the single picnic table out front. Daddy Cade’s Po’Boys didn’t seem to be one of the more popular gourmet trucks in town. Good thing she’d brought her entourage of Darren, Janna and Linda with her.
Xander should think twice if he thought she’d meet him anywhere alone.
“Your soon-to-be ex-husband probably chose this place because he knew you’d never eat here,” Darren said. “You make every calorie count twice. Especially now that you need your figure back.”
She was still the same size as when they’d eloped eight months ago. In fact, the outfit she was wearing had been bought on their unofficial honeymoon trip to Paris.
“Sissy Jorgenson shouldn’t be forced to come to a place like this,” Janna complained. “You should send the police for your things. Even the cat.”
Xander’s father owns the police.
Did it really bother her that they talked as if they understood the life she’d led before getting married? Teen model, then married to the mob? They had no clue. Not really. A different location every week was glamorous to them. A different hotel each week was appealing. A life of travel and what appeared to be one party after another.
Even the parties got old. The same faces night after night. There weren’t