Page 39 of Lawson & Jill

His arms wound around her. “Nope.”

“Uhm, Mexican?”

He smiled. She saw two dimples. “I think maybe we’ll go out to a candlelit dinner sometime around midnight tonight. Or tomorrow night.” He drew her closer. “We absolutely have something to celebrate.”

She sucked in more air. “We do?”

“Absolutely. When the woman I adore tells me she loves me, I definitely want to celebrate.” He pulled her even closer and Jill melted against the hard length of his body.

Law placed a tender kiss on her cheek, close to her ear. Then he whispered, “I love you too, Jill. I thought you knew that.”

She shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again.

“Well, I’m glad you cleared that up,” he chuckled.

He feathered kisses all along her jaw until he reached her lips. Once again, Jill lost her mind as Law’s taste and touch took her to an entirely new universe. She felt dizzy, and then she was laughing when she realized he had carried her into his bedroom.

Yes, life in Law’s arms was amazing.

* * *

“I can’t fucking believe it. We finally find Angela, and now her husband has disappeared?” Law thought he might be losing his damned mind.

He looked at his brother and Kane. They had flown in from Virginia that morning on military transport. He hadn’t been expecting them at Camp Pendleton. Somehow, Kane had managed to commandeer one of the briefing rooms for Law to have his freak-out in private.

“You need to keep your shit together,” Asher coached.

“Where’s Cullen? Shouldn’t he be here?”

“He went over to your house as soon as we disembarked. He has Jill covered.”

“Well, la-dee-da. She’s at work. So you all screwed the pooch on that one. Explain this to me again. In words small enough for me to understand, because this is some convoluted fucked-up shit.” Then he yanked his cell phone out of fatigues. “Scratch that,” he said as he held up his index finger and pressed in Jill’s number.

Dammit, it went to voice mail.

“Honey, it’s Law. Call me immediately. It’s important.”

He glared at the two men in front of him. “Continue.”

“At long last, Jamison tracked down Angela. She’d quit waitressing. She’s been working as a cook out on a ranch and taking care of a widower’s two kids. He knew that she wanted to stay hidden, so nobody on his ranch let out a peep that she was there. It took Jamison the last four weeks to find her. When he did, he almost got the shit beat out of him for his trouble.” Kane and Asher laughed.

“Okay, so there’s a funny story somewhere,” Law growled. “Get to the point, besides the fact that Angela now seems to have a protector.”

“The point is,” Asher drawled, “that Angela finally feels safe enough to talk. She told Jamison some interesting shit. The night her son died, her husband came to see her in the Detroit hospital. He said, that he had always wanted her all to himself, and now she belonged just to him.”

Law felt his blood run cold.

“She can’t possibly think that her husband purposely killed his own child.”

“It gets worse,” Asher said. “Angela told Jamison that there was always something odd about the way her former fiancé died. It was a boating accident with his best friend, who was…” Asher let his voice drift to a stop.

“Wanna guess?” Kane asked.

“Tim Goshen?” Law asked.

“Give the man a cigar,” Kane nodded. “Yep. Then Tim goes in and comforts Angela over her fiancé’s death, and two months later, they’re married. She told Jamison she had always felt rushed into the wedding. And she knew for sure that Tim had been mad about her getting pregnant.”

“But still, killing your own child?”