Broken Fences (A TroubleMaker Novel, #1) (15 page)

Obviously, she
was too upset for him to try to sway her thinking. He wasn’t really sure if he
ever would be able to, but he wasn’t going to give up that easily. She was
dealing with someone who was in love with her, someone who needed her, someone
who wasn’t ever going to leave her again. Heart, body, and soul, Dusty Owens
would always belong with him. “You’re not, nor will you ever be, last on my
list,” he said. She opened her mouth, but this time, he held up his hand. “That’s
enough, Dusty Owens. No more tonight. You run along, go inside, and put that
sweet little ass of yours to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, when you’ve calmed
down a little, and we’ll talk about all of this then.”

She turned back
to gaze out the window. “But you’re leaving tomorrow, and—”

He snatched her
chin, and forced her to look at him. “Leaving?” he asked, as she glared at him
with such uncertainty. He leaned forward and kissed her tense lips until they
softened. When he pulled back, she was breathless but still shooting doubt his
way. He stroked her jutted chin with his thumb. “Believe me, girl, I’ve got
nowhere to go in a hurry, at least not until we’ve settled this. Now do as I
say, off to bed with your ass,” he ordered.

Again, she
glared at him for many seconds, but like a good girl, she ultimately obeyed.
She climbed out of the vehicle with a huff and stomped into her house.

Maybe, just
maybe, there’s hope for us after all.

* * * * *

“Thanks for
coming in today, Miss. Owens,” Agent Norton said as he walked in carrying a cup
of coffee and a folder. He dropped the folder on the desk. “Can I get you
anything?’

“No, I’m fine.”
The sooner she got it over with, the sooner Colden would be leaving. It was
that very thought that had made her break down in his arms after they’d had
sex. She didn’t want him to leave, yet she couldn’t ask him to stay.

Norton lifted
his coffee and looked at her from over the mug. His eyes were a warm gray, but
the five-day shadow made him appear hard and gruff. “I read over your
statement. It looks good. They’re typing it up now, and you’ll just need to
sign it.”

“Great,” she
said, watching him riffle through some papers on his desk. He picked up the
folder he’d brought in with him, and a photograph slipped out and fell on the
floor. Recognizing it, she leaned over and picked it up. It was a picture of
her and Colden standing in front of The Bucking Barrel, back when it was still
Rusty’s Tavern. She remembered the day it was taken, the first time she’d met
him. Sissy had gotten a new camera and was taking pictures of everything.
Colden wasn’t looking at the camera but was staring at Dusty, who was smiling
for the shot. Now, seeing the picture, she recognized the expression on
Colden’s face, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh…and there’s
the infamous troublemaking photo,” Agent Norton said.

“Wh-what,” she
stuttered.

“That’s the
photo that caused all this trouble. I never would have thought Agent James
would have been so careless.”

“I’m sorry. I’m
not following you.”

“My agents know
they can’t keep any personal things with them out in the field, nothing that
would link them to their real lives while they’re working undercover.” He shook
his head. “Despite the rules, James continued carrying that photo around with
him. When he discovered it was missing, he came to me about it. That was right
around the same time when we thought his cover had come into question. We
couldn’t be certain that someone hadn’t found the photo or that it wouldn’t
connect James to this place or to you.”

“You mean this
photo might have set DeSanto off about Colden’s true identity?”

“Yes. In fact,
we later learned that it was the key factor. He found the photo in Agent
James’s wallet and, thanks to all these modern-day social networking sites and
that tattoo on your face, DeSanto was able to locate Rusty’s Tavern and place
James with you here in Odessa.”

“He never said
anything,” she said, more to herself than to him.

Norton chuckled.
“Yeah, he had one hell of time confessing it to me. Frankly, Miss Owens, it was
a real stupid move on Agent James’s part. I could only put one detail on the
case, and it was either cover you, the girl in the photo, or my agent’s family.
Normally I would have put James in protective custody, but he adamantly refused
to go anywhere, fearing that you’d be unprotected. Unable to make that promise,
I decided the best thing to do was to make you his responsibility.”

“Wait…he was
assigned to protect me?”

“Yes. For the
first four days, we sat back and observed, but when he found out about his
brother’s wedding and everything seemed quiet, I had him come out from the
shadows. We needed to shake things up. The government wasn’t willing to cover
the case much longer, so we had to do something to draw Riggs out. James didn’t
like it one bit, but I knew he’d keep you safe. Hell, the man carried your
picture around, the only rule he ever broke. You obviously mean a great deal to
him, Miss Owens.”

Chapter
Sixteen

Sissy was
already gone on her honeymoon, and Mrs. James hadn’t probed Dusty when she
stopped by looking for Colden, she simply stated that she hadn’t seen him all
morning. Dusty passed by The Bucking Barrel, but his truck was nowhere in
sight. After that, she decided it was best to go home. If everything Agent
Norton had told her was true, she thought maybe Colden would come looking for
her there. Then again, she might have pushed him too far and he might have
finally given up on her.

Comprehending
the truth as to why Colden had returned home was nowhere near as difficult as
realizing that he’d care for her for all those years.
Why else would he
carry that picture around with him?

Hope teased her
heart as she rolled up her driveway and saw the half-naked man standing in
front of the fence with his back to her. His shirt was tucked into the back of
his jeans, and the swinging of the hammer seized when she stopped the truck.
Colden’s head turned over his broad, tan shoulder, and he looked at her.

There was no way
she was going to repeat history. Roadside would not be the last time she saw
those beautiful green eyes. Dusty parked the vehicle and got out.

Colden turned
around and watched her as she walked up to him.

Hope had left her
heart. She couldn’t rely on it. If she wanted him, she knew she’d have to make
it happen. She stopped and placed a hand on her hip. “Does this mean the
do-gooder is back in town?” She glanced at the hammer in his hand, ignoring the
quiver in her voice, afraid to look at him in fear of what she might read on
his handsome face.

“No. Sorry,
sweetheart.” The gentle endearment lifted her eyes to his. “I’m afraid he’s
gone forever.” Keeping his steady regard on her, he pointed to the fence. “This
is just a man trying to fix what he’s broken.”

“And this?” She
held out what Agent Norton had called the “troublemaking photo.” “What is this,
Colden?”

Tossing the
hammer to the ground, he reached out and took the picture from her. Gazing down
at it, he smiled. “This,” he said, holding it up and looking at her, “is a
picture of me and my wife on the first day we met.”

Wife?
The
statement did all sorts of strange things to her body, her head, and her heart.
It arrested her ability to speak or to move. The one thing that was working
properly was her heart. Its quick beat thundered in her ears and pulsated in
her veins. Her emotions wanted to run and take cover, but her heart was yelling
for them to stay. A tear crept up to the corner of her eye.

 Colden came
over and put his arm around her shoulder. “Look real close at the man in this
picture, Dusty. You can see it. From the very first moment he looked at his
wife, he’s been hopelessly in love with her.”

“Colden…” Her
bottom lip quivered when she said his name. Yes, she had seen it, that look he
was giving her in the photo. She had noticed it in Agent Norton’s office, and
it was partly to blame for her hope.

“You see,” he
continued, turning closer to her, “no matter what happened, the man in that
picture knew he had to keep this photo.” He wiped away the warm tear of joy
that had finally fallen to her cheek. “It’s the picture he intended to show
their kids and their kid’s kids.”

Trembling, she
struggled for each breath, still too fearful to say anything, afraid that she’d
wake up from what felt like a dream. Colden kissed her on the forehead, which
made it more real than dreamlike.

“This photo,” he
said, lifting it a little, “gave him strength when he had none. When things got
real ugly, it proved to him that there’s still beauty in the world. And, when
carrying his girl in his hardened heart just wasn’t enough,” he continued,
holding her eyes to his for a long second, “I’d look at it and remember you.”

His honest face
had her completely dissolving into a pool of liquid mess over the Saint, over
what he had said to her and what it meant. But like when he had told her he
wasn’t married, she had to be certain that it was really true before she
surrendered her heart.

“But you’re…”
She stuttered, her heart hiccupping in her chest. “You’re leaving, so—”

“I’m not going
anywhere. Even if I get down on one knee and you refuse my proposal, I’m
staying right here. I’ll break as many fences as it takes.” He brushed his
mouth over hers. “You belong with me, and the only place I belong is with you,
Dusty girl.”

For the first
time in her life, Dusty found a home, right there in his eyes—a place where she
belonged. She put her arms around his neck, stepped closer into the circle of
her new home, and smiled. “There’s just one thing I wanna know,” she said,
choking back another joyful tear.

“Anything,” he
drawled.

“How the hell
did you learn to ride a mechanical bull like that?”

“Practice,
pretty girl—lots and lots of practice.” He chuckled.

“Well,” she got
out between her own laughter, “I want a rematch.”

Colden stroked
her cheek, and his expression turned tender before he kissed her gently on the
lips. “How about we make a deal?”

“Oh here we go,”
she teased. “Isn’t that what got you into all kinds of trouble before?”

“Nothing I
couldn’t handle,” he confidently said, proving that the cocky new Saint wasn’t
going anywhere, the one she’d really fallen in love with in the first place.
“If I beat you on the mechanical bull,” he said, flashing her that wicked James
smile, “then you have to marry me.”

“And what do I
get if…er,
when
I win?”

“Then I have to
marry you, of course.”

She laughed.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, St. James.”

“That’s my girl,
always up for a challenge.” His arm went around her waist, fingers sank into
her hip, and he pulled her a little closer. “You just let me know when you want
that rematch. I’m ready whenever you are.” He bent in and swiped his nose
across hers. “I’ve got nowhere to go in a hurry.”

“No? Well,
you’ve got nowhere to go slowly either.” She smiled. “Unless you’re taking me
with you.” She leaned in for a kiss, closing the circle around her, realizing she
was home. Dusty Owens was finally, where she belonged.

The End

Favorite

Places

A TroubleMaker Novel

(Book 2)

by

Kelly Gendron

www.KellyGendron.com

Release Date:

December 2013

A five-minute
trolley ride, one troublemaking luggage, and two stolen identities. Six months
later, two strangers discover they’re married. She wants an annulment. He has
other plans.

Being illegally
hitched is about the only way Chase Lennox would ever be shackled to any woman.
But when the multimillionaire playboy finds out he’s married to the woman who
caused him to lose the biggest deal of his life, Chase decides before he gives
his new wife an annulment, she’s going to help him close the deal he’d lost.

Jessina Landi
has a three-foot radius comfort zone. The last man she let into it cost her a
lot more than a broken heart. And the huge debt she owes for that trust, well,
it’s due. If she takes Chase Lennox's up on his offer, it’s sure to cover the
bill.

There’s an
annulment waiting at the end of their rainbow… Well, that’s if they can get
through the next two weeks without consummating the marriage.

A little note from the author

There are so
many great authors and books out there to pick from, and if this is the first
book that you’ve read by me, or the second, or third… Well, from the bottom of
my heart, I’d like to thank you for giving me and my book a chance. I love to
write, and I’m so grateful that what I love to do is something I am able to
share with others! ~ Kelly Gendron