Two years ago, flirty FBI agent Jameson Bend was the crush I left behind.
Today, the grumpy Detective Slade is the man who stars in my dirty fantasies.
When my autopsy findings connect five recent murders committed by a single suspect, Jameson and Slade join forces to help solve the series of homicides. Toss in my emotionally abusive ex-husband stalking me, and I’ll not only need Jameson and Slade’s help to piece the clues together on the case but also to protect me from my ex’s attempts to force me back under his control.
As we work side by side in the heat of the investigation, our longing turns into desire, and soon we’re tangled in a passionate affair that could cost us our jobs—and lives. They cater to every side of me, one sweet and sensitive, the other possessive and protective. I never expected to end up with two men, but now I can’t imagine my life without them.
But with the killer hiding in plain sight, I walk right into a carefully planned trap.
If my men can’t get to me before time runs out…
Our happily ever after will end before it even gets started.
Five murders, one killer, and a chance at an unconventional happily ever after.
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Maybe Josh was right that he was the only one who would put up with my increasing level of crazy.
Elbows pressed onto the cool counter, I smacked my face into both palms and raked my fingers back until they tugged through my loose strands.
No. Josh was not right. He was a manipulating asshole who made me dependent on him by making me feel unwanted and unlovable.
Though it was difficult to not see a sliver of truth in his blunt words. Who would want to put up with someone like me long term? My mental state most days was the definition of a shit show, not a hot mess. Looking back, I knew that was why I’d settled for Josh—I thought he was the best someone like me could do.
After that first time he cheated on me, then blamed me, claiming he did it because I worked too much and was never home, I should’ve left. But by that point, I believed his lies, questioning myself and what I had to offer anyone else.
Until a smirking, good-looking detective strolled into the morgue one day.
The man who helped me see through Josh’s lies and manipulations was now back in my life, this time as an FBI agent here to help identify a serial killer. Back then, Jameson was casual about uncovering the issues in my marriage that I wanted to keep hidden. Not sure how he put everything together, but he did. Six months after we first met, our innocent flirting turned pointed, even uplifting in a way. He would constantly build me up, telling me over and over that I was enough.
Not enough for him or anyone else, but for me.
In his own unique way, Jameson gave me the strength to be okay with loving myself just the way I am, quirks and all. I didn’t have to conform to Josh’s needs or wants if they didn’t align with my own—which they never did.
And now that amazing man was here.
My past crush working side by side with my current one.
“Fuck,” I muttered to my reflection. “I can’t even keep my heart rate normal with Slade in the room. I’ll turn into a puddle of mush when it’s both of them.” One hand slipped down my neck, fingers wrapping around the base of my throat. “Both of them,” I whispered, licking my lips. “Me between them—”
The familiar vibration of an incoming text jerked me out of losing myself to the very dirty fantasy. Pulling out my cell, I skimmed the text letting me know the body was back at the morgue and waiting for me. Time to get back to work now that I knew for certain my house wouldn’t turn into ground zero for setting the entire state of California on fire.
As I turned to head for the door, my fingers shifted along a texture different from my smooth cell phone case. Pausing, I rotated my hand to see what was stuck back there.
The note.
What if all my worrying projected into the universe and this was from a neighbor wanting to get to know me? Which could be great, but my nose wrinkled at the thought of all the effort it took to build friendships. An extrovert I was not, so starting a flimsy acquaintance with this unknown neighbor sounded exhausting.
Preparing for the worst, I unfolded the notebook paper.
Three words.
That was all it took to erase all concerns of the hypothetical neighbor friendship, douse the smoldering flames the thoughts of Slade, Jameson, and me together stoked, and make me forget all about the dead body waiting for me at the morgue.
I found you
“Damnit,” I whispered, the paper shaking between my fingers.
Was my dad right about being worried for my safety?
Was I in danger?
For more information about Kennedy L. Mitchell and her books, visit her website:
https://kennedylmitchell.com/
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