Free All She Ever Wanted by Barbara Freethy

reading it, like I was there but it wasn't quite the same party I remembered, and the people weren't exactly right, but some of their traits were familiar."
    "You would be able to tell the truth from the fiction better than I would, because you were there all the time. I just came down on the occasional weekend. I didn't know what was going on the rest of the time." He drew in a long breath. "The worst part is knowing that I was close by that night. That I could have stopped it. I was with Josh at Dylan's apartment, less than a mile away. Emily wanted me to come to the party. She called me and begged me to come. I didn't feel like it, and I told her maybe later." There was agony in his eyes when he looked at her, and Natalie could feel his pain down to her soul. "I didn't go, Natalie. I didn't go to that party until it was too late. Em wanted me there with her, and I didn't go."
    "Because of me," she murmured. "You didn't want to see me. I was getting too serious." She'd told him she loved him. It was the first and last time she'd ever said those words to a man. And he'd run for the hills.
    Cole looked down at the ground. "I should have been there for my sister. I failed her."
    His guilt was as tangible as her own, and the anger inside her began to dissipate. "We both could have acted differently, but we didn't, and we can't change it now. It's over. It has been for a long time."
    "It's not over, not with this book making the rounds. I went back to work yesterday and ran through everything I could find on Garrett Malone. It turns out there's very little information on the guy. It's like he came out of nowhere. I've put in calls to his publicist, his agent, and his publisher, but it's the weekend. I won't hear back from any of them until tomorrow. And his Web site hasn't been updated with any appearances after the book signing yesterday."
    "Where does he live?"
    "His press materials say California, nothing more specific than that. I will find him, Natalie. And he will talk to me."
    "And me," she said decisively. "I have a few questions of my own to ask him."
    "I'll bet you do." Cole hesitated, then said, "I'm glad we cleared the air."
    "Me, too." Natalie wasn't sure how she felt about Cole now or how he felt about her, but at least they'd broken the icy distance of the past ten years.
    Cole cleared his throat, then said, "So where are we running?"
    She didn't like the word we. "I'm running down to the marina and out to the Golden Gate Bridge."
    "Sounds good. I was going to work out at the gym, but I could use some fresh air."
    He was wearing running shoes and sweat pants, she realized belatedly. "I'm not going to run with you."
    "Afraid you can't keep up?"
    "I remember that I always beat you," she reminded him. Running in the early hours of the morning was a joy they had shared during their time together.
    "I remember that I always let you."
    The challenging gleam in his eyes built a fire under her already overcharged emotions. "Fine. Let's go." She took off before he could say okay. It was a small and cheap trick, but she knew how strong Cole was, and how easily his long strides would keep pace with her shorter ones. Within a minute he was right next to her.
    "Going kind of slow, aren't you?" he needled.
    "I'm warming up."
    "You never used to take so long to warm up."
    She quickened her pace to get away from his sarcasm and from the memories his words had stirred up. They'd made this run before from Cole's parents' house in Presidio Heights, an elegant neighborhood of fancy homes that lined the Presidio. The last time she'd visited there had been the Christmas before Emily's death, which had occurred in the middle of February, just six weeks later. How much everything had changed in those weeks—especially her relationship with Cole, which had taken a serious turn that Christmas. In fact, that turn had started with a run just like this one.
    Natalie crept quietly down the stairs. The Parishes were still asleep. It was just