Her Stolen Son Read Free

I’m working for the sheriff, I’m not. Your son hired me.”
    Her gaze latched with his. “Petey hired you?”
    A smile quirked at his mouth. “Yes, he offered me all the money in his piggy bank.”
    Fresh pain and love squeezed her heart. “I’ll pay you,” she said firmly. “You’re not taking Petey’s money.”
    His jaw hardened. “I never said I’d accept it.”
    She frowned at his curt tone. He almost sounded offended. “It’s just that…I feel bad for my son. Ever since my husband died, Petey thinks he has to be man of the house.”
    A pained look crossed Colt’s face. “A big job for a little guy.”
    â€œExactly.” Her voice cracked. “He doesn’t deserve this right now. He’s been through so much already….”
    Colt cleared his throat. “Then let’s see if we can clear up this matter, and get you home with him. Now, tell me what happened last night.”
    Serena chewed on her bottom lip. Lord help her. She hated Parker for dying. And she hated feeling helpless, as if she was failing her son.
    Even worse, she hated to give her trust to a stranger. After all, Parker’s murder had taught her not to trust anyone.
    Â 
    C OLT STUDIED Serena Stover, his nerves on edge. He understood her wariness to trust. If little Petey was telling the truth, it sounded as if Lyle Rice was a bastard and had probably deserved his fate.
    But kids lied to protect their mothers all the time. What if she had used that fire poker on the man? Or what if he’d come back after Petey went to bed, and they’d fought? She could argue self-defense.
    Unless she had gone after the man with the intent to kill him…
    But everything about this woman, from her delicate bone structure to her wild curly hair to those mesmerizing terror-stricken eyes, screamed that she was a victim.
    â€œSerena?” he asked.
    She worried her bottom lip for another moment, then inhaled a deep breath. “Like I said before, Petey’s father died a couple of years ago. He was a cop, shot in the line of duty.”
    He didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but simply nodded, silently urging her to continue.
    â€œI…haven’t dated since he died.” She picked at a loose thread on that scraggly blanket. “I didn’t want to. I was grieving.”
    â€œBut you decided to go out with this man Lyle?”
    She nodded, regret wrenching her face. “The worst mistake of my life.”
    He let that comment simmer for a moment. “Go on.”
    She lifted her gaze to his, tears swimming in the crystal orbs.
    God, that hurt look sucker punched him and made him want to yank her in his arms and comfort her. Made him want to promise her he’d make everything right.
    But that wasn’t a promise he was sure he could keep.
    â€œSerena, I’m not judging you for dating. That’s human, normal.”
    She sighed, then glanced away, and he realized she had judged herself. That she felt guilty, as if she was cheating on her husband when he was dead and never coming back. She must have loved him deeply.
    â€œAnyway, Lyle and I only went out a couple of times,” she said softly. “First coffee. Then a movie. But last night we had dinner, and I sensed something was different, that he was ready to take things to the next level.”
    â€œYou mean sex?”
    A blush crept onto her cheeks, then a sliver of fear darkened her eyes. “Yes.”
    â€œBut you weren’t ready?”
    She shook her head. “No. Not at all.” She swallowed, then licked her lips, making him uncomfortably aware that she was sensuous and fragile and a woman.
    â€œAnyway, when he brought me home, he came in for a drink, which I never should have allowed,” she added beneath her breath. “Then he came on to me. I told him right away that it wasn’t going to work between us and asked him