From New York Times best-selling author Cristin Harber and USA Today best-selling author Megan Mitcham comes an exciting collaboration. |
NEVER MINEWhen love means betrayal…
Jillian Cooper never wanted Callum, until a dream morphs him from her best friend's husband to a singular nocturnal fantasy. Revolted by her own mind and loyal to a fault, she refuses to give the dream life. Still, it manages to make her awkward around her only family; Amery, Callum, and their two stunning daughters. As an orphan and an Explosive Ordinance Tech with the Navy, things have a way of crashing down around her. The world crumbling call came in the form of a single car, single fatality accident. Amery died. While she spins in dizzying circles, the girls she's loved since they were in their momma's belly cling to her. When Callum's strong arms fortify them and keep them all from falling apart, Jillian's inner struggle reaches a breaking point. She does the only thing she can to honor her friend's memory...run to the other side of the world to contract for Titan Group, an elite private securities force in need of an EOD. Callum Bradfield adapts and overcomes. Even after the tragic death of his wife, his core values as a Navy SEAL march him forward...to safer waters. His gig as mission transport for Base Branch—the special operations force for the UN—isn’t as adrenaline laden, but he refuses to make his girls orphans. Things are beginning to regroup when Jillian bails on his girls—and him—without a word. To ensure she's safe, he hacks her personal information and follows the crumbs into Titan's database. Crossing that line gets them both under a microscope in the middle of a desert, searching for the proof they need to show their innocence, while he tries to convince Jillian he's more than just her dream. |
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-28-1
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-29-8
Release: January 24, 2017
Length: 135 pages
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-29-8
Release: January 24, 2017
Length: 135 pages
Excerpt
“What’s your deal, Jilly?” Callum barked.
“My deal?” Her long loose hair fanned wide as she spun in a short angry tornado. “I thought your new gig was safer.”
“It is. I’m not leaving the girls, but I can’t lose my edge.”
She backed toward her door.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he reminded.
“I don’t have a deal. I’m cold and tired.”
“You’re acting like you don’t know me—like we haven’t laughed the hours away over a bag of potato chips and a beer, like I haven’t carried your drunk ass in from my back lawn and held your hair back when you puked on my carpet, like—”
“I get it.” When she got angry, her upper lip curled into a sneer, revealing her little crooked tooth.
“Whether you’re acting weird as shit or not, I know you. I’ve never known you to shirk from confrontation. So nut up.” Again, maybe not the best choice of words. He hated how different things were now that Amery was gone. Things he’d said to her a thousand times before never seemed crude or inappropriate until today.
“You told the girls we’d go to the beach together?”
“I told them we’d see. Besides, what’s the big deal if we did? Amery wouldn’t want us to never go to the beach again because she’s dead.”
“Us? You and me? You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
“Just because Amery is gone, I’m not going to get weird on you, Jilly.” He hoped, at least.
She braced both hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. He’d said something wrong, and he didn’t have a damn clue what it was or how to make it better.
“The girls would love to see you more. They need stability. We need you in our lives like…”
“Like before?” One severe brown brow arched.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I need…” Her lips pressed together, rubbing off the last of her lipstick.
“What do you need, Jilly?”
Her anger fell away. Hollow eyes welled with sadness. “I need distance.”
“From the girls?”
“No.” Her head shook.
“From what, then?”
“From you.”
He knew the words were coming. They still hurt like a motherfucking knife to the guts. “Why?”
“Have you gone through Amery’s things?”
He should have kept his mouth shut. Jillian had gone through everything with the girls, boxed up what they wanted to keep, donated a lot, and boxed up things that he needed to go through. He hid the boxes at the back of the closet and went on about his life.
“I’ll text you with my new schedule. I’ve signed on with a private outfit for some trial runs.”
“You retired from the Navy?” he croaked.
“You’re not Navy anymore, Base Branch.” She used the name of his employer like a curse word.
“Yeah, but I told you before I did it.”
Jillian opened the door. “You wouldn’t have approved.” She climbed into the cab, slammed the door, and left him all alone with his dead wife and precious girls.
“My deal?” Her long loose hair fanned wide as she spun in a short angry tornado. “I thought your new gig was safer.”
“It is. I’m not leaving the girls, but I can’t lose my edge.”
She backed toward her door.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he reminded.
“I don’t have a deal. I’m cold and tired.”
“You’re acting like you don’t know me—like we haven’t laughed the hours away over a bag of potato chips and a beer, like I haven’t carried your drunk ass in from my back lawn and held your hair back when you puked on my carpet, like—”
“I get it.” When she got angry, her upper lip curled into a sneer, revealing her little crooked tooth.
“Whether you’re acting weird as shit or not, I know you. I’ve never known you to shirk from confrontation. So nut up.” Again, maybe not the best choice of words. He hated how different things were now that Amery was gone. Things he’d said to her a thousand times before never seemed crude or inappropriate until today.
“You told the girls we’d go to the beach together?”
“I told them we’d see. Besides, what’s the big deal if we did? Amery wouldn’t want us to never go to the beach again because she’s dead.”
“Us? You and me? You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
“Just because Amery is gone, I’m not going to get weird on you, Jilly.” He hoped, at least.
She braced both hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. He’d said something wrong, and he didn’t have a damn clue what it was or how to make it better.
“The girls would love to see you more. They need stability. We need you in our lives like…”
“Like before?” One severe brown brow arched.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I need…” Her lips pressed together, rubbing off the last of her lipstick.
“What do you need, Jilly?”
Her anger fell away. Hollow eyes welled with sadness. “I need distance.”
“From the girls?”
“No.” Her head shook.
“From what, then?”
“From you.”
He knew the words were coming. They still hurt like a motherfucking knife to the guts. “Why?”
“Have you gone through Amery’s things?”
He should have kept his mouth shut. Jillian had gone through everything with the girls, boxed up what they wanted to keep, donated a lot, and boxed up things that he needed to go through. He hid the boxes at the back of the closet and went on about his life.
“I’ll text you with my new schedule. I’ve signed on with a private outfit for some trial runs.”
“You retired from the Navy?” he croaked.
“You’re not Navy anymore, Base Branch.” She used the name of his employer like a curse word.
“Yeah, but I told you before I did it.”
Jillian opened the door. “You wouldn’t have approved.” She climbed into the cab, slammed the door, and left him all alone with his dead wife and precious girls.