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“You can go into my bedroom if you’d like.”
Instantly he realized he’d made the offer sound suggestive. A Freudian slip if he’d ever had one.
Kelli did a half-snort laugh and retreated into the room. It could have been his imagination but it looked as if her cheeks had reddened. Then again, he could have been mistaken.
Mark stretched out his legs and realized just how tired he felt. Resting his head back on the cushions, he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. When Kelli was finished he’d offer her some coffee and make a very strong one for himself.
His thoughts went from coffee to the woman who had suddenly become a part of his life. Would she still be after they’d somehow found the justice they both wanted and so desperately needed?
And, more important, how would he feel about it?
Full Force Fatherhood
Tyler Anne Snell
TYLER ANNE SNELL genuinely loves all genres of the written word. However, she’s realized that she loves books filled with sexual tension and mysteries a little more than the rest. Her stories have a good dose of both. Tyler lives in Florida with her same-named husband and their mini “lions.” When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s playing video games and working on her blog, Almost There. To follow her shenanigans, visit www.tylerannesnell.com.
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This book is for Lillian Grace and Katie.
Lily, thank you for being the coolest kiddo I know. One day you’ll be able to appreciate there’s a book dedicated to you. Until then I’m sure your mom will hide this sucker until you’re older!
Katie, thank you for being a sister, a true friend, and giving me motherhood goals to aspire toward. Not to mention showing me such a strong bond between mother and daughter that it was almost easy to translate it to paper. I’ll always love every bit of you and your family!
Contents
“Something’s not right.”
Kelli Crane looked at her husband and sighed. “Making fun of me isn’t going to win you any points, Victor,” she warned. “Don’t poke the bear.”
“Because she might poke back?”
He walked into the cabin’s bedroom, where she had been lounging with a book, and took a seat at the edge of the bed. In his late thirties, Victor Crane had managed to hold on to his boyish grin with ease. Tall, almost lanky, he had short strawberry blond hair that looked like extensions of the sunlight that fell through the windows, and eyes that mimicked the blue of the sky. She could claim the same kind of brightness about herself, but slightly different—dirty-blond hair, green-gray eyes,