Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

She dropped her hand to his cheek. “Reed. I love you. I’m not available to anyone but you.”

Those words never grew old.

He captured her hand in his, kissed her bare ring finger. “I want anyone who looks to know you’re mine.”

Her long lashes dropped to her hand and back. “Oh.”

And when her smile grew larger, he knew just how unavailable he was going to make her.

An hour later, Reed watched her from across the room as she socialized with Neil and his wife, Gwen. Kids of all ages meandered around the room decked in ties and dresses. He knew somewhere in the house a temporary nursery had been set up with a gaggle of babysitters and nannies at the ready.

Rick blocked his view and extended his hand. “Merry Christmas.”

They avoided spilling their cocktails while they shook hands.

“How was training?” Rick asked.

“They kicked my ass.” Reed had put aside his private investigator hat to join the security team Neil and Rick ran. Doing so required taking his police force skills to a new level. The boot camp–style training went for a week and ended with a commitment to return every few months for a year.

“Every man needs a good ass kicking once in a while.”

“If it helps me protect that woman over there, I’m in.”

“Speaking of women, I need to find mine. See you Monday.”

Reed zeroed in on Lori and heard his cell phone ring. He nearly ignored the call when a tiny voice told him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Sasha.

He stepped out of the noisy room and out under the bright Christmas lights that littered the loggia and backyard overlooking the ocean.

“You left without me saying thank you.”

“How sweet.”

“Well, I owe you.”

“Those IOUs are adding up. I thought you might want to know, word is that Petrov didn’t put a hit on your lady.”

“Really?”

“No. He did take out his hired hand, however. Can never be too careful on who you work for.”

Noise from inside drifted through an open door, he turned to see Lori walking toward him.

“Who hired you?”

Sasha laughed, low and deep. “Alice Petrov.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Before she died. I’ve been protecting Trina since before her husband died. Alice wanted me to find the truth behind Trina’s marriage and keep it from her ex-husband.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“While finding the truth and being paid from beyond the grave, I found a security team worthy of my talents. If Petrov ever finds me out, I’ll need to call in a favor.”

Lori moved within hearing range.

Reed lifted a hand to keep her quiet. “You won’t have to ask twice.”

“Good, now take your girl back inside. She looks cold.”

Reed noticed Lori shivering, her arms wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’m considering a little work on my Texas accent, what do you think?” Her last words sounded less Russian and more Texan.

“If you need our help, you know how to find us.”

“I’m counting on that.”

When Sasha hung up, he shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over Lori’s shoulders. “Who was that?”

“Sasha.”

“Really?”

He turned her back toward the house. “It appears Trina’s mother-in-law has been hard at work beyond the grave.”

Lori paused.

“She hired Sasha to keep your secrets.”

Lori’s jaw dropped. “Why did Sasha tell you that now?”

“For our protection . . . well, Neil’s team’s, in any event.”

They stopped under one of the patio heaters and warmed up from the crisp December night.

“Should I be jealous of this woman who keeps calling you?”

Reed couldn’t help it, he laughed. “There is only room for one woman in my life.”

She lifted his left hand and kissed the back of it. “I feel the need to go cavewoman on you.”

His eyes lit up, his hand moved under his jacket and dipped his fingers past the back of the dress. “Isn’t that out of your comfort zone?”

“I heard once that life begins when you step out of that zone.”

How he loved this woman. “Cavewoman . . . I like it. Next year’s Halloween costumes.”

“Already on to next year?”

“Baby . . . I’m planning the next sixty years.”

She lifted her smiling lips to his, kissed him. “I love you.”

Without breaking their lips apart, he said, “Love you more.”





Acknowledgments

So many people to thank, and only one page to do it. First, and probably most important, would be my readers. You crazy kids kept asking me for an eighth day of the week so that I could extend the Weekday Brides. Even my publisher asked if I could pull that out of my hat. But alas, there are only seven days in the week, and as much as I tried, an eighth day didn’t manifest. Someone mentioned a Holiday Brides Series, and I thought . . . I might be able to do that. Then I thought, let’s make this a divorce bride series. Since yours truly has had the real-life drama of her own divorce in the past couple of years, I realized I could add some depth to the plot line. Thank you, readers, for wanting more, and thank you, Montlake, for seeing my vision.

Now on to the name-dropping.

Thank you, Jane Dystel, for always being there for me, not just as my agent, but as a dear friend. Between a divorce, fire, and floods, you’re the one who always checked in.

Everyone at Montlake for their understanding and compassion with all my delays and personal drama. Kelli, my dear, you are a rock.

Denise, aka Divorce Attorney Extraordinaire . . . thank you for taking care of me, and my friend, during that . . . ah-hum . . . little issue we had to deal with.

To Cecilia, my unexpected travel companion. Your suggestion of that cruise to the Mediterranean is forever in print. Now let’s do that shit and have a blast!

And now back to Tracy Brogan.

There are very few stressors we have in this life that top getting a divorce. We cry and laugh . . . and then cry some more. The roller coaster of emotions isn’t something you can describe in any clarity and truly make the reader understand. Yet once you’ve gone through it, even if it’s what you wanted, you feel as if you’ve gone through a battlefield, and those standing beside you when it’s all said and done are people you hold tight for life. You, Tracy, are one of those people for me. We have a unique bond by our profession, and again by our personal journey. A divorced romance author almost sounds like an oxymoron. But to me, it sounds like a strong woman who refuses to live an unhappy happily ever after.

To the next chapter in our lives. I love you, m’friend. Let’s kick some ass and take a few names.

~Catherine