Free Her Mother's Killer by Melissa Schroeder Page A

Jed.”
    Because she knew he was right—and that irritated her even more—she slammed the package down on her counter. “He doesn’t talk to anyone but you.”
    “I doubt that very much, especially now that you’re here. Do you really want him to come sniffing around? I thought you wanted him to stay away.”
    He hadn’t looked up from reading and she didn’t respond. Thea knew she was perilously close to sounding like a ten year old. Instead, she slid the chicken between some parchment paper and started pounding it with the mallet. She was making so much noise, she didn’t notice that he was standing behind her until he rested his hands on her waist. She stopped mid-pound. Her heartbeat accelerated, the heat in her body transformed from anger to arousal.
    “Thea.”
    Her breath caught in her throat the moment she heard the gentleness in his voice. Shivers raced down her spine as goose bumps rose across her flesh.
    “Everything’s gonna to be fine.”
    She closed her eyes and leaned her head forward, her chin dropping to her chest.
    “I know. It’s…”
    He pulled her back against him, using the warmth of his body to calm her. She dropped the mallet she didn’t realize she was holding.
    She lifted her head, then leaned it back against his chest. She could feel his heart beating against her back, feel her muscles relax.
    “Nothing more is going to go wrong. We’ll find out who is doing this, and who killed your mother and father.”
    Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked to hold them at bay. He used his hands to turn her to face him, but she stared at his chest. Slipping his knuckle under her chin, he raised her head. His gray eyes were filled with understanding and tenderness. Thea could no longer keep the tears from falling and felt them sliding down her face. Duncan rubbed his thumb over her cheeks then her bottom lip. As he was lowering her head, her cell phone rang, breaking the spell.
    She stepped back, bumped into the counter. Duncan held her still, helping her gain her balance and smiled down at her. “Better answer that.”
    She nodded and picked up the phone. The moment she saw the number, she silently cursed, but answered it anyway.
    Duncan watched the flush gather in her cheeks, but he knew this had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with anger.
    “Jason,” she said, her voice strained. “What do you want?”
    She was silent while she listened to the ex. Duncan was so close to her, he could hear the voice murmur on the other end of the line. Even though he wanted to lean closer, try and decipher what that bastard wanted, he stepped away, trying to give himself some time to think. Because he hadn’t been thinking at all.
    He settled himself back at the table and reminded himself that the woman was off limits. Didn’t he just tell himself that not two hours earlier? But he had sensed her tension, knew it had more to do with the situation, and not them. She’d been bearing a terrible secret for years and she had looked so vulnerable, so alone. And it had been the wrong move to touch her. It didn’t help as he listened to her argue with her ex, his anger started to build. He was a cop, and as her husband, Jason Warren should have protected her. Instead, he had made her feel as if she were insane, as if there was something wrong with her.
    “I’m sorry, Jason. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.” She rolled her eyes. “Listen, you wanted Al’s. You said you could do a better job than I did. It’s not my fault you lost Antonio. And…no, no, Jason. I want nothing to do with that place and nothing to do with you.” She clicked off her phone and tossed it on the counter.
    “Problems?”
    She picked up the mallet and started beating the hell out of the chicken again. “Not anything I have to worry about.”
    The only sound filling the kitchen was her whacking at that chicken. The smell of garlic and tomato, bread baking, everything homey, surrounded him. But