Game On

I can't believe he did this. In his damned office.

In his damned office right next to mine.

Angela Kenzie swiped at the tears blurring her vision. The last thing she needed was to have a car accident while escaping back home.

Her phone rang.

She dug the phone out of her purse, keeping one eye on the road. The turnoff for Glen Barrow was coming up, and if she missed it in the dark, she'd have to go another fifty miles to the nearest exit to turn around. That was the last thing she needed at this point.

If it's him again—

Eric had already called three times and left long rambling messages, texted her six times with short pleas and explanations.

She'd read them at one of the rest stops, hands trembling as she forced down the vending machine coffee.

It's not what you think.

She doesn't mean a thing to me.

I care about you.

She hadn't answered, still in shock.

I know what I saw.

And the last, the most recent when it was apparent by her silence that she wasn't going to buy his story.

I thought you loved me.

No. I thought you loved me.

She propped the phone on the steering wheel, preparing herself for another mental kick in the gut.

The caller identification read "Mom".

Angela sighed in relief and tapped the button.

"Hello?"

"Just calling to see where you are. I've got macaroni and cheese waiting for you." She kept speaking, not letting Angela respond. "And I know it won't fix a broken heart but it sure as heck won't hurt it. Where are you?"

"A few miles from the cutoff. Should be there in about a half-hour."

"I'll be waiting. Love you." The connection ended.

Angela spotted the turnoff sign for Glen Barrow in the distance. She maneuvered the Ford Taurus onto the exit ramp, the headlights cutting through the darkness.

Angela calculated the distance to her family home and the waiting meal. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She'd planned to surprise Eric in his office and go out for lunch.

That hadn't worked out.

Instead she'd gone back to her apartment and sat on the couch, stunned and in shock.

A burst of fury had her packing her suitcases with a fast phone call to her mother before heading out.

Angela thumped the steering wheel with a clenched fist at the memory.

That son of a bitch thinks he can do this to me?

Should have grabbed a picture of him screwing that bitch. Put it up online, let the entire world see his bare ass in all its glory.

The flashing red-and-blue lights in her rearview mirror brought her up out of her vengeful thoughts.

She stifled a curse and pulled over, hoping the police car would whiz by on the way to an emergency call.

The squad car slid in behind her on the shoulder as she put the car in park and turned off the engine.

Of course. How could this day possibly get worse?

A policeman got out of the cruiser and advanced on her, illuminated by his headlights.

Angela rested her forehead on the steering wheel and steeled herself.

Just what I need. A fucking ticket…

A gentle knock on the car window brought her up from her introspection.

She rolled down the window and stared at the man standing outside.

No.

Way.

"Jake?" she croaked.

"Angela?" The shocked reply came. "Is that you?"

Her heart racing, Angela took in the uniformed man standing outside her car door.

The short-cropped brown hair gave him a youthful appearance, one that had frustrated him in college when they tried to purchase beer. His deep green eyes were offset by the dark blue uniform shirt, tight across his chest and shoulders.

The leather belt and handcuffs at his waist sent a delicious shiver down her spine at the memories they stirred up.

A little bit of kink never hurt anyone.

Still damned easy on the eyes.

"Angela?" he repeated.

"Hi…," she paused, scrambling to find the right words. "How's it going?"

"Fine." He leaned on the open window, his eyes catching hers and locking on. "Sorry to stop you, but you've got a blown taillight."

"Really?" She started to turn around before realizing there was no possible way she could see the problem from the driver's seat. "Damn it. It was fine this morning."

"Probably blew while you were driving from—" Jake frowned. "Philadelphia, right?"

"Yes." She cleared her throat. "I'm coming home to visit Mom."

"I see." He nodded. "Well, least I can do is escort you there. Head on out, and I'll tail you. Dangerous to drive at night with one light out."

"I—" Before she could object, Jake walked back to his car.

The flame of remembered desire sputtered and died out.

Another man interfering in her life.

Damn it.

Damn him.

Damn all men.

He flashed his lights at her, signaling for her to go first.

She jammed the engine into drive and set back out onto the road.

The question rose to the top of her mind, overriding her flash of anger.

The last time she'd seem Jake Weatherly, he'd been headed for the FBI Academy in Quantico after graduating from Penn State.

How the hell did he end up working as a cop in her hometown?

Angela couldn't help looking in her rearview mirror, seeing him studying her, watching her.

He was carrying cuffs…

"Don't move," he murmured as the cold metal encircled her wrist, pinning her arms over her head. She flexed her fingers, but it was more for show than anything serious.

She trusted him with all her heart.

The silk tie fell over her eyes, tied with care. Now she couldn't see anything, relying on her other senses.

Angela drew a deep breath, steadying herself.

He stroked her palm, drawing his finger down over the inside of her outstretched arm. Her skin tingled at the delicate touch, the scent of him both intoxicating and arousing.

The heated whisper in her ear was almost enough to send her over the edge, her heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.

"Damn. I love you, Angie. So much."

She gripped the steering wheel hard, the frisson of desire building again at the recollection, lightning bolts of need burning along her spine. It'd been years since she and Jake were intimate, yet the simple memory could still arouse her far beyond any recent interludes with Eric.

Eric.

Angela cursed herself again for calling up his name, thinking of his name, thinking of that bastard who—

The familiar street appeared in front of her and she recognized her childhood home, the bright lights a welcome signal in the darkness.

As she pulled up to the curb, the police car drew alongside.

The passenger window slid down as Jake leaned over.

"Don't forget to get that taillight fixed." He nudged a thumb over his shoulder. "Got to get back on the road. Hopefully I'll see you again before you leave." Jake gave her a soft smile. "Good to see you, Angie. Take care."

Before she could reply, the window slid up and he was gone.

Angela got out of her car and stood in the street, watching the patrol car disappear around the corner.

"There you are!" The cheerful yelp from her mother brought her back around to the house she'd grown up in and left for what she thought would be greener pastures.

Angela's heart sank even as she opened her arms to the blonde woman racing toward her.

Talk about the ultimate walk of shame.

It was a good thing his shift was almost over—his thoughts were so scattered, he was almost a road hazard.

"Come on, man." He cursed as he came up to a red light a bit too fast, forcing him to stomp on the brakes. "She's fine. You're fine."

Angela Kenzie.

Of all the people he could meet on patrol, he never would have imagined running into her.

Or expected her to look so distraught.

Her face when he'd approached the car, the reddened eyes and dark circles…

There was no way this was just a casual visit to see her mother.

He glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard. Another half-hour and he'd hand over the town's security to the state troopers until morning, when Al would come on duty.

Good thing too—right now he'd have trouble dealing with a simple jaywalking offense, his thoughts were so scattered.

A final swing past the town square, and Jake pulled into the small parking lot next to the police station. Locking the car, he headed into the building.

"You okay?" Grace frowned, chopsticks poised for attack on the Chinese-food container in her hands. "You look out of sorts."

"Just tired. End of shift and all that." Sitting down at his desk, he began filling out the paperwork—thank goodness it'd been an uneventful shift.

Except for…

"Jake."

The single word brought him around.

"You look like someone who needs to talk." Grace smiled. "That's what I'm here for."

For a second, he considered passing on the dispatcher's offer—then realized it wasn't really an option. If she didn't find out now, she sure would once the gossip train left the station.

Keeping a happy workplace ranked high on his To-Do list, and keeping the senior out of the loop would only come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later.

He drew a deep breath. "Stopped someone I used to know a long time ago. Took me by surprise."

"Who?" She slurped the noodles into her mouth.

"Angela Kenzie."

Grace's eyes went wide behind her bifocals. "Well, there's a surprise. Haven't seen her in town for ages." She gestured with her chopsticks. "Mary-Ann's going to be cooking up a storm." She eyed Jake. "What did you stop her for?"

"Broken taillight. Escorted her home."

Grace nodded. "Good call. Her mother would have a fit if she ended up in an accident." She smiled. "Guess you gave her a warning, right? No fine?"

He arched an eyebrow.

"Doubleplusgood. She might be making good money working in Philly but no one likes to pay tickets." She paused for a moment. "Remind me again on how you know Angie? She's been in Philly now for a few years…"

"We went to Penn State together." It was as much as he was willing to give up right now.

"Hmm." She eyed him. "Small world."

Tell me about it.

He returned to his paperwork, trying not to think of Angela and failing.

"That son of a bitch!" Mary-Ann Kenzie thumped the table with her fist. "I'm going to cut his nuts off and—"

"Could you get me another plate of mac 'n' cheese," Angela prompted, holding out her near-empty plate. "Please."

Her mother froze, caught between continuing her tirade and serving her daughter.

Finally, nurture won out over anger.

She snatched the plate out of Angela's hand and headed for the counter where the still-hot casserole pan sat. "Don't think I won't go kick his ass. How dare he do that to you. To my daughter." She let out an angry huff as she refilled the plate. "You were engaged for God's sake. Engaged! There was a time when that meant something!"

She waved the cheese-encrusted spoon in the air. "True, you didn't have the date set yet, but he proposed. Made it a surprise—asked you in a nice restaurant in front of everyone you knew in Philly." Mary-Ann huffed. "He didn't invite me, of course—told you afterward he figured I'd tell you, spoil it all. But now I'm glad he didn't."

"I wish you had been there. I wish—" The words stuck in Angela's mouth as an emotional wave swept her under again.

Mary-Ann dropped the plate on the counter and ran around the table. She pulled Angela close, into a tight hug. "Your old bedroom is ready and you're staying here as long as you want to."

Angela gently freed herself from the iron grip. "Thanks, Mom. I'll be fine. Just need some time to clear my head. Figure out what I want to do." She pointedly kept from looking over at her cell phone sitting on a nearby counter.

The kitchen hadn't changed since she was a child, its sunflower motif wallpaper flowing across the wallpaper and onto the storage containers. The fat flowers trickled out into the hallway in the form of ceramic wall hangings.

The lack of change was comforting.

Mary-Ann turned back to retrieve the heaping plate of pasta. "Of course. Whatever you need."

"So." Angela took a sip of coffee. "What's Jake Weatherly doing here?"

She'd tried to make it sound casual and failed spectacularly going by her mother's wide-eyed stare.

"You met him? When?"

"Stopped me on the way in. Broken taillight. Escorted me here."

Angela wasn't sure when she'd become unable to form a single coherent sentence.

"So that's who was in the cop car I saw driving off." Mary-Ann put the plate in front of Angela and sat across from her. "I thought it might be Al. Sometimes he pulls evening duty."

"Al?" Angela scooped up a mouthful of pasta.

"Al Thorton. You might remember him, he used to work at the grocery store when you were in school, assistant manager. Decided he didn't want to stock shelves forever. Went and took some night courses and all that. Been working as a policeman for a few years now."

The thick pasta and cheese silenced Angela, forcing her to gesture onward with her loaded fork.

"Oh, yes. Jake. He came in about two years ago when Chief McQueen retired. You remember Bill? Got his pension and went to Florida with Mabel." She waved one hand. "Anyway, they put the word out and Jake applied. Had the right qualifications and the town council liked him. I thought he was a bit young for the job, but I didn't get a vote on it." Her mother shook her head. "Man's only thirty. I figure a police chief should be at least fifty years old or so."

"And you didn't think I might be interested in this information?" Angela mumbled through a mouthful of ooey gooey heaven.

Mary-Ann rolled her shoulders back. "It was none of your business. Besides, he was married and you were in Philly and dating…" She waved a hand in the air. "Him."

"Jake's married?" A trace of jealousy surged through her veins, displacing her anger at Eric for a few seconds.

Her mother took a sip of coffee, eying her over the ceramic rim. "I said he was. Woman up and left him six months ago, said the small-town life wasn't for her." Mary-Ann snorted. "Figure if you marry a cop you know what you're getting into. She was too high-strung, if you ask me. Worried about him when he was a state trooper and then freaks out when he's in a good place like Glen Barrow 'cause we've got only one Starbucks." She rolled her eyes. "Can't imagine what he saw about her in the first place."

"The guy I dated in college comes home to work as the police chief and you think I wouldn't be interested? Just as a bit of passing trivia?" Angela dug out another heaping forkful of macaroni. "Not like I didn't call you at least once a week, if not more."

"You want some trivia. Okay." Her mother leaned in, a wisp of blonde hair escaping the tight bun to fall in front of her face. "Guess you'd like to know Hunter Stratham is back as well, right? Got himself a job at the college, basketball coach. Taken the Badgers to the playoffs two years in a row."

Angela swallowed the mouthful of pasta to avoid a coughing fit. "I thought he moved to Harrisburg after graduation." She waved the fork in the air, forcing herself to tamp down the rage building inside her. "What the hell is going on with this town? How many secrets are you keeping from me?"

Mary-Ann crossed her arms and glared at her, pushing Angela back three decades in time. "Don't you get that tone with me. I talked to you once a week and didn't think it was appropriate to talk about your ex-boyfriends when you were dating Eric and later on, when you were engaged. Go ahead, tell me I was wrong." She leaned back in her chair. "I told you about everything else, from the screwed-up church bake sale to the fertilizer truck accident that stank half the town up for a week. Forgive me for wanting to keep you from having any issues with Eric by bringing up the men you used to date. Last thing I wanted to do is give him a reason to be upset with me and with you. In retrospect, I sort of wish I'd yapped your ear off."

Angela felt her face burn, the reprimand taking hold. "Okay. I understand."

Mary-Ann nodded her approval. "Now about Hunter. After you left, he cleaned himself up, did a good job turning his life around. He moved to Harrisburg like you said, and earned a degree. Got his teaching credentials, came back home when Henry started having problems, and lucked into a job at the college." Mary-Ann gave her a wide grin. "You got enough to think about now?"

"More than." Angela took another mouthful of coffee, her mind spinning.

It didn't take much to draw her into the memory well, back to her first true love.

Hunter.

Soft butterfly kisses, love notes tucked into her locker making her blush when she read them in the hallway. Stolen moments under the bleachers, gentle caresses while sitting to next each other in class when the teacher wasn't looking. Secret rendezvous in her bedroom, stifling her moans and cries with a pillow so her mother wouldn't come upstairs and catch them together.

Her black leather bad boy.

Her mother reached over and touched her arm, startling Angela out of her reverie. "No offense, but you look like crap. Understandable—you've had a bad day, to put it lightly. Let's get you upstairs for a hot shower and then to bed. A good night's sleep will set you right, and tomorrow we'll figure out what you want to do."

Angela slumped in the chair as the strain of the last few hours caught up with her, sucking the last of her mental and physical strength away. "Thanks, Mom. It's always good to come home."

It was the last thing on his to-do list for this morning—and the one he dreaded the most.

Only because he'd had this conversation before with other students and, by God, he was getting pretty tired of it.

But he wasn't going to give up on any of them.

Ever.

"You're better than this." Hunter Stratham pushed the sheet across the desk. "I know you are." He pointed at the numbers dotting the page. "According to Professor Magee, you're barely hanging on in English Lit. She'll have to flunk you out if you don't get it in gear and do it fast. I know you can do better, so does she. That's why she's giving you another chance."

The sullen young black man rolled his shoulders and glanced out the window, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "I do my best. Not my fault."

"Crap." Hunter leaned forward. "You want to keep playing basketball? You want a chance to go pro, go to the NBA? Because with marks like this you're not going anywhere other than back home with your tail between your legs. Might as well start looking for a job delivering pizzas, because you're not going to be playing ball here."

Jessie Winslow scowled. "I've got the skills to go all the way. You know I do."

Hunter nodded. "I know you do. But you know I don't stand for my players keeping a low grade-point average." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "You think the scouts don't look at your marks? You think pulling a double double on the court is going to blank out a failing grade?"

"I'm not good at English."

"Then you get good." Hunter grabbed up a pen and scribbled a name on his notepad before tearing it off. "You call her. She's a good tutor, one of the best. Tell her I sent you over."

The college student stared at the paper. "I don't need a tutor."

"You don't need to be benched for the next two weeks."

"You—" Jessie stumbled over the words. "You can't do that. I've got to be out there."

"And you will be, if you show you're doing your best. Call the tutor and set up a schedule." Hunter paused. "You bring me your next test with no less than a B, and you keep playing. Otherwise be ready to start warming the bench."

The player stood up, shaking his head. "You run a hard deal."

"Only because I know you've got it in you to do better." Hunter held out his hand. "You know it too."

Jessie accepted the handshake before tucking the piece of paper away. "Thanks, Coach."

"Don't thank me. Just remember me when you get up on the stage to collect that big award." Hunter smiled at the young man. "Now get the hell out. I've got real work to do."

A few seconds after Winslow left, Sally Adams stuck her head in. "That's all your morning appointments done with." She grinned. "Sounded sort of intense."

Hunter rocked back in his chair. "Jessie graduated high school with excellent marks and knows he's got the smarts and the talent to go all the way. But he's too used to getting away with anything he wants because he can sink a shot from half-way across the court. A reality check was long overdue. So, what's next on the agenda?"

"Paperwork. Summer class schedules." She chuckled at seeing his downcast expression. "And a bit of gossip if you're up to it. Darned juicy stuff, if you ask me."

"Gossip?" Hunter shook his head. "You know I don't usually go in for that."

Sally leaned on the doorframe and inspected her nails. "If you're not interested—"

He motioned her on. "Okay. Lay it on me."

"Word is Angela Kenzie's back in town. Drove in last night from Philly."

Hunter tried to sound as casual as he could, fighting back the urge to jump to his feet. "Oh. Any idea why?"

"According to what Mary-Ann told Denise at the grocery store last night while picking up ingredients for her mac 'n' cheese, Angela got snookered by the fellow she was engaged to. Dropped her off the wall, and she came back home to get her head on straight. Mary-Ann always had suspicions about the man—he never came to visit, never called to introduce himself to Mary-Ann—it was always Angela making the connections. So, when Angela called and said he'd been stepping out on her, Mary-Ann felt justified in not feeling right about the jerk. But she's not going to say so, not when her only daughter is coming on home heartbroken and all." She eyed Hunter. "Figured you might be interested, considering the two of you were a couple and all."

And all.

Hunter took one of the pencils from his coffee cup and tapped it on the desk, keeping the same pace as his racing heart. "You know we were the talk of the town for the last year of high school. Smoked and drank, the usual vices. My dad laughed off all the gossip, said it was just a phase, getting it out of my system before settling down and growing up. Then I started seeing Angela, and everyone wondered what she saw in me. Good girl, top student, hanging out with the bad boy. It was a cliché, but we didn't know or care." He shook his head. "Never knew why she accepted that first date and kept on seeing me."

"She saw a good man finding his way. End result is you kept your grades up and turned out okay, and so did she." Sally retreated to the doorway. "Anyway, she's back home if you're interested in finding out what old flames do when they meet again." A sly wink, and the secretary stepped out of sight.

Ignite.

Combust.

Incinerate.

Hunter risked a glance at the clock.

Ten minutes to twelve.

He stood up and snagged the light jacket from the back of his chair. "Sally, I'm headed out for lunch. See you later."

He didn't wait for a response as he headed for his car.

Angela's back in town and she's got to be hurting.

I have to see her.

Angela knew it was way past morning, and she didn't care.

Her bedroom was a time capsule, holding both her high-school past and her college years in stasis. Stuffed animals from her childhood on the dresser, Penn State banners on the walls. Old CDs in the rack and a twelfth-grade spelling bee trophy guarding some spare change.

Everything was pretty well the same as the last time she'd visited.

Just before heading off to Philadelphia for her promising law career.

Just before Eric.

She'd sent a brief text off last night before climbing into bed, telling the firm she was sick and taking a few days off.

Now, as she lay there, the smell of coffee crept up the stairs, enticing her to pull open the thick down comforter she'd bundled around her like armor.

The digital clock on her side table read 12:14 p.m.

Half the day gone and I don't care.

A week ago, she would have been dashing around her office dealing with the paperwork of a dozen little cases, making her brand known to the partners. They'd been impressed with her right out of university and offered her a junior position. She thought it was because she'd been at the top of her class and eager, hungry to get to work changing the world.

Now she wondered if it was because Eric had had his eye on her all along.

"You've got a visitor." Her mother appeared in the doorway, cradling a fresh cup of coffee. She wore her usual flowery blouse and jeans, looking refreshed and ready to take on the world. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun.

"A what?" Angela stared at her.

"A visitor. And it's about time you got your ass out of bed. You can be whiny and upset, but I'll be damned if you're going to spend the entire day up here." She placed the coffee on one of the bookshelves. "I'll be entertaining him while you get your act together and come downstairs. He's on his lunch break, so don't take too long."

Grace spun and walked out of sight.

Angela eyed the thick ceramic mug and did the logic run.

I have to get out of bed to get the coffee.

If I get out of bed to get the coffee, I might as well get up.

If I get up, I might as well get dressed.

If I get dressed—

She sighed and flipped back the blanket.

Coffee better be damned good.

It took five minutes for her to be awake enough to come down the stairs, holding the now-empty mug in front of her like a shield. She hadn't bothered to worry about what to wear, grabbing the first thing out of her suitcase and pulling it on. The old well-worn Penn State T-shirt and gray track pants would be more than enough for her mystery visitor.

Who the hell would come to see me?

Who even knew I was in town?

Jake? But what would he—

She stopped wondering as she saw the man seated at the table with her mother, chatting away as he worked on a piece of peach pie.

Hunter.

He sat at the table, looking more respectable than she'd ever seen him. The white dress shirt was tight across his shoulders, the top button undone, and a stark black tie hung loose around his neck, tempting her to give it a playful tug.

Must be at least seven… eight years?

She'd last seen him at their high school graduation. During the ceremony, Hunter proudly pulled up his robe to flash the other students with fluorescent shorts. At their own private party afterward, he'd discarded them along with the rest of his clothing one last time, a tearful farewell as they parted ways, each on their own path.

Angela bit on her lower lip at the sight of his black hair, a bit scruffier and longer than the expected norm for a teacher. Dancing on the edge of acceptable, not so different from high school.

She loved it at that length.

Just enough to grab and hold tight, dig her fingers into it, twist.

Damn. Still delicious after all these years.

Her mother looked up and spotted her in the doorway. "'Bout time you got your raggedy ass down here." Mary-Ann rose from the table and plucked the cup from Angela's hands. "I'll get you a refill and a piece of pie. Sit and be sociable." Without waiting for a reply, she strutted off to the counter.

Hunter laughed as Angela took the chair across the table from him. "Your mother is still a force of nature. As soon as I showed up at the door, she ordered me to sit down so she could feed me. Good thing I hadn't had lunch yet."

"Tell me about it." She cleared her throat. "How did you know I was here?"

He cocked his head to one side and gave her the sideway glance she knew all too well. "I have my sources."

Angela felt her pulse speed up as she remembered what else used to accompany that gesture.

Curled up around each other under the blankets in his treehouse, reading to each other as we worked on our English assignment. At least until one of us gave up and gave in to our desire…

A warm flush ran along her skin at the memory.

Mary-Ann placed a slab of pie in front of Angela, breaking her reverie. "That'll make up for you skipping breakfast."

Angela stared at the mega-sized piece. "And dinner and breakfast and lunch tomorrow as well."

Mary-Ann snorted. "Don't be a smart ass." She picked up her mug of coffee and walked to the sink. "I've got to go to the grocery store. I'll see you later, Hunter. Best to your dad."

"I'll send him your best." Hunter waved as she left the kitchen.

A few minutes later Angela heard the car start up. The sound of the old station wagon's distinctive engine diminished as her mother pulled out of the garage and onto the street.

Angela ate another bite of pie. "How is your father? Mom mentioned he was having some health problems."

Hunter didn't respond right away, and she saw the pain in his deep blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she started, "I didn't mean to—"

He raised a hand, silencing her. "Early onset Alzheimer's. He's in St. Thomas's Rest Home. I had to put him in there a year ago when it became too hard to keep him at home. The visiting nurses could only do so much, so I made the decision." He shook his head. "Hardest choice of my life. But he's safe and they're taking good care of him, better than I could."

"I'm sorry." She couldn't think of what else to say.

"Me too." He smiled. "He remembers you at times. Asks what you're doing."

"What do you tell him?"

"You're saving the world in Philly. He likes it."

"Good." She shuffled the thick peach slices around on her plate, not sure what to say.

He paused before speaking—choosing his words with care. "I heard you were engaged."

Angela nodded. "'Were' being the important word." She sighed. "Caught him with another woman. He told me it wasn't what it looked like—as if I'm that stupid." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "But I'm done with him now." She slashed the air with her hand, channeling her rage into the simple gesture. "Done."

"I'm sorry."

She frowned. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I'll be in jail for the rest of my life after I kill him," Hunter deadpanned.

She couldn't help laughing. "I think I'm okay with you letting Eric live." The name felt awful in her mouth. "He's the loser in this deal. Not me."

"Hell, yeah." He smiled and she felt some of the weight lift from her chest at the familiar saying. It'd been one of their catchphrases through high school, shouted every chance they got.

Hunter looked at his watch. "Damn. I've got to get back to work, get ready for team practice. I wanted to drop in and say hello, see how you were doing." He stood up and put his light jacket on, festooned with the college colors and the mascot, the Glen Barrow Badger. "I'm glad I did."

She rose and crossed her arms, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm a little messed up, but I'll be okay." Angela brushed an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. "Caught me off-guard. Cut me deep, but I'll survive."

"I know you will." He took a step toward her and paused.

Angela saw the confusion in his eyes, the trepidation.

"I'm not made of glass." She opened her arms to him. "Please."

Her voice cracked on the single word.

Please.

Hunter almost ran to her, crossing the few feet between them in an instant. He pulled her close, his arms curling around her, his strength holding her up in her time of need.

His familiar scent filled her nose, taking her back to a less complicated time and place.

A minute later Angela drew back, releasing him with a loud sigh. "Thanks. I needed that."

"No problem on my part. I know you're in a bad place right now, but I'm here if you need to talk to someone who's not your mother." He winked. "Or anything else you'd like to do. Like, say—with the rest of that pie."

Angela gave him a weak punch to the chest. "Pervert."

"Me? I'm not the one who kissed the top cheerleader on a dare." He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "And I know you liked it." Hunter gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you again. Don't be a stranger."

He pulled back and paused, staring at her.

She made the first move.

Angela kissed him hard, purging all the sadness from her soul.

Hunter let out something akin to a groan, finally pulling away to drop small butterfly kisses along her jawline, ending with a nip on her earlobe.

"Hell, yeah," Hunter whispered as he released her. He cupped her face in his hands and smiled. "I'm here for you. Take some time for yourself, as long as you need." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll see you around."

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone.

Angela rolled her head back and studied the ceiling.

That was—

Uncomfortable.

Interesting.

Exhausting.

She mentally marked D: All of the above and went to refill her coffee.

As she added the milk, Angela recalled their tearful goodbye, years ago.

Unlike many of their peers who had screaming, vicious fights not long after graduation, the two of them chose different paths.

That was all there was to it. They'd wished each other well and headed off in opposite directions.

There'd been no birthday cards, no Christmas presents—they knew each other too well to dance on that razor's edge. A clear and plain break was the only way to go. And that'd withstood the test of time, for years. She hadn't thought about him for the longest time, pouring all of her energy into her job, and until recently, her relationship with Eric.

Now she was back, newly single and Hunter… Hunter was available. Her mother would have warned her off if he were in a relationship.

But—

Angela sat again at the table and picked at the delicious slices of peaches, the thick syrup spreading all over the plate.

Get serious, woman. You're not ready for this. It's been barely twenty-four hours since you broke up with Eric.

She was in no shape to make any sort of judgment on whether reviving her relationship with Hunter Stratham was a good idea or not.

Angela cut into the crisp pie crust with her fork.

At least she knew where she stood with the pie.

Jake had the evening shift again—which was good, as he hadn't managed to get to sleep for a few hours after the encounter with Angela.

As it was, he spent most of the morning trying to figure out what to do or say.

Do I call her?

Do I not call her?

There had to be more to this impromptu visit than just a desire for her mom's home cooking.

Opportunity presented itself when he went to the grocery store and spotted Mary-Ann Kenzie. His relationship with Angela's mother hadn't been the best when they were dating, but they'd settled into a comfortable detente when Jake arrived to take over as Chief.

If she's here, Angela's alone.

A good time to visit.

He headed for the express checkout counter, noting Mary-Ann was busy chatting in line to another woman in line, two customers away from paying from her groceries.

There were advantages to being a policeman.

Least of which was being allowed to speed and ignore street lights if necessary, for a good cause.

And checking in on Angela qualified as a good cause.

He found her sitting on the porch, bundled up in an ancient crocheted afghan from her grandmother. The deep autumn colors had decorated her bed back at Penn State, and he wasn't surprised to find it here and on her.

Jake closed the car door and leaned on the roof. "If you're waiting for your mother, she's busy tearing up the gossip line with Betty at the grocery store. Also, she's buying cabbages so I expect she'll be making cabbage rolls at some point. Better be ready to work the assembly line."

Angela laughed, gripping the coffee mug. "More comfort food. I expect I'm the talk of the town right now. Probably the biggest story to hit here since I got the job in Philly." The momentary burst of cheerfulness shifted into a neutral, almost sad stare. "Great to be so popular."

Jake came up the few steps and leaned on the short white wooden railing surrounding the porch. "Last night. You could have told me why you were coming back."

"How did you find out?"

He jerked a thumb at the street. "Grace, my dispatcher. By the time I came in this morning she had the entire story—including your mother's graphic description of what she'd like to do to Eric."

"I could have told you the whole story." She shook her head, the loose blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "But I didn't want your pity."

"You assume I'd give it to you." He saw the flash of anger and held back a smile. Inside, Jake let out a sigh of relief.

Still the fiery woman I remember.

Bastard didn't break you.

"What did he do?" He rested his hands on his gun belt. "Another woman?" He raised both eyebrows. "Another man?"

Angela grimaced at the weak joke. "I wish. Legal secretary in his office on his desk. I walked in to see him banging her like a bloody steel drum." She looked out over the well-kept lawn. "To hell with him."

"Yep." Jake nodded. "Want me to put in an alert on him for possible drug running?"

Coffee spewed across the varnished wood and splattered his black boots. "What?"

Jake grinned. "It's an idea. Drop his license plate into the system, have every cop in Pennsylvania pulling him over and searching his car."

Angela wiped her mouth. "Oh, Lord. Don't tempt me." She sighed. "Although it'd serve the bastard right. I can't believe I bought into his lies, his—" She dropped her chin to her chest. "God, I was so stupid."

He was at her side in a second to pluck the mug from her hands and put it on the ground. "I'm so sorry, Angela." He knelt. "You don't deserve this."

She leaned forward into his arms, and all he could think about was the scent of her hair, the feel of her under his hands as she pressed her face into his chest and cried.

He stayed there for a few minutes, letting her do what she needed to do.

Finally, Jake cleared his throat and helped her sit back in the chair before standing up.

Angela cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Hey." He reached out a finger and tipped her chin up so he could look into her deep blue eyes. "If you can't cry with me, who can you cry with?"

She sniffled, the weak smile tugging at his heartstrings.

Jake ignored the warning bells going off in his head and leaned in to kiss her, his arms going around her again.

This time it wasn't to comfort her. It was to pull her close, the fire re-igniting in his heart and soul as she kissed him back, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It was as if the past few years had never happened, their time apart nothing but a disturbing dream.

A few seconds later, a few minutes later, she pulled back breathless and wide-eyed. Her forehead furrowed, concern rising in her gaze.

"I head you were separated."

Jake brushed his thumb over her bruised lips, marveling how gorgeous she looked even in her distraught emotional state. "Divorced," he rasped. "I'm divorced."

At hearing his own words, Jake drew back.

Don't push it, he warned himself.

She licked her lips and he knew he had to move, do something before he gave into his urge to bundle her off the porch and into his car, drive her back to his apartment and drive all thought of that idiot Eric out of her mind.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing he could come up with.

"For what?" She frowned.

"I shouldn't be pushing you. Not here, not now."

Angie smiled, settling his nerves. "You've done nothing wrong." She stroked his cheek. "We were always friends first, lovers second. We're good."

Jake nodded and put his escape plan into action.

"I better get out of here before your mother comes back. She won't be happy to see me lounging on the porch."

Angela gave him a weak smile. "She's being my mother. Always trying to protect me."

He tilted his head to one side. "That's her job. But don't forget there's others here for you." He stood up. "Don't forget the taillight, either. I'd hate to have to put you in jail." He swaggered off the porch. "I've been watching cable. I know what you ladies get up to behind bars."

Her answering laugh followed him back to his car.

Angela watched her mother park the weather-beaten station wagon in the driveway and get out. Grace plucked a jug of milk and a bag of groceries out of the trunk and headed up the driveway.

Angela didn't get up to help. In the years before she'd left home, Angela learned that offering to do so would lead to a long speech about how her mother wasn't an invalid and was able to carry her own food and so forth. If she was needed, Mary-Ann would yell for her to come help, and that would be that.

It was easier to sit there and wonder about Jake.

He looked good in uniform.

Too good.

She licked her lips.

It was hard to hold back a sigh, remembering the way his uniform pants hugged his ass as he walked out to his car.

First Hunter, then Jake.

Both men back in her life.

But she didn't want either of them… did she?

I'm a drowning woman in the middle of the desert.

Mary-Ann slowed her pace as she went up the stairs. "Good to see you out here getting some fresh air." She narrowed her eyes. "Guess Jake came by to visit. I saw the police car turn the corner when I came down the street."

"He wanted to say hello and check to see if I'd taken care of that taillight." The half-lie came out easily, a lifetime of dealing with her mother's resentment toward Jake coming back into play.

Mary-Ann snorted. "Yeah. Right. Like I was born yesterday." She walked into the house. "Just tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

Angela got up and strolled in, keeping the afghan loose on her shoulders.

Mary-Ann was in the kitchen putting the milk away. She looked up as Angela entered. "Got us a lovely roast for Sunday dinner. And some fine cabbages. They had the triple meat blend so next week we're making a ton of cabbage rolls." She gestured at the recyclable blue bag on the counter. "Been a while since I've been able to justify making a big meal like this without some big occasion. Looking forward to it. I'm thinking you're not going to be in a rush to go back to all that—" She gestured with her hand. "That mess."

"No," Angela admitted. "I'm not." In her mind's eye, she saw Eric strutting around the office, making excuses to the staff and the other partners when the truth came out.

His edited version of the truth, that is.

He wouldn't tell them about banging Kelly on his desk, and she'd sit there in the outer office, exchanging knowing looks with Eric while everyone speculated on Angela's sudden departure.

He'd wait a few weeks, maybe months before introducing Kelly as his new girlfriend.

Maybe he'd buy her the same ring.

Angela considered the engagement ring, tucked deep in her jean pocket. She'd pulled it off while driving yesterday, the glittering jewel too much for her to handle in her line of sight.

Her career, her life, her self-esteem—

All snatched away in a second.

"You better not be considering going back to Eric," her mother warned as she continued to unpack the groceries. "If he'll cheat on you once, he'll do it again. And again. Stay here until you figure out what you want to do. Take as long as you want. I'm not going to throw you out." She closed the refrigerator door. "Get your head clear, consider all your options."

"I have been. I'm going to make some phone calls today." Angela exhaled, imagining the chaos she was about to create. She'd been pondering the idea since she'd arrived but hadn't made the final decision until after Jake's visit.

Time to unleash the hounds.

"What are you going to do?" Mary-Ann asked.

"First, quit my job. I can't go back and work there. It's not an option." Angela chased the nightmare scenario from her mind. "I'll write a letter to the partners, tell them why, but they may not care."

Mentally, she'd already composed the email and knew what she'd say on a follow-up phone call, but the facts wouldn't dampen the gossip Eric might already be spreading about her.

The only blessing in the entire horrible scenario was she didn't have any major cases that couldn't be passed on to other lawyers at the firm.

At least her clients wouldn't suffer.

"My apartment has only a few more months left on the lease—I'll call them, see what we can arrange. I can get a work friend to pack up my stuff and send it to me. That'll give me some time while I recover from all this—" She swept her hand around, not knowing what to call it.

Mary-Ann nodded her approval, resting against the kitchen counter.

"I'm selling the engagement ring. Seed money for my new business." She pulled the afghan around her shoulders again. "I'm tired of Philly. It's about time I thought about helping people here, at home. Don't tell me Glen Barrow can't use a local lawyer."

It was hard to sound cheerful but she had to do something, anything to get out of the emotional swamp threatening to pull her down and swallow her whole.

People always joke about lawyers being nothing more than human sharks.

Sharks need to keep swimming or they'll drown.

Keep swimming.

"We sure could. And it'd be nice to have you back here." Her mother smiled. "But be careful, don't go rushing off to start dating again." Mary-Ann shook her head. "You know who I'm talking about, both of them. You're vulnerable right now, raw and sore all over. Don't need a one-night stand with some fellow looking for a nostalgia trip. You deserve better. Give yourself time to grieve this mess, and then come up for air."

Angela nodded. "Don't worry about me. Right now, I can't even imagine getting into another relationship." She paused, curiosity winning over caution. "Does Hunter know about Jake? I mean, do they each know I used to date the other?"

"No idea." Her mother sat at the table. "They might have discovered it in passing, but I doubt anyone brought it up as a topic of conversation." She frowned. "There was no reason to talk about it. You weren't here, Jake was married and Hunter, well… man was working." Mary-Ann shook her head.

Angela pushed the thought to the back of her mind, mentally putting it into a box and locking it up tight.

"I can't think about them right now. I've got to take care of me." She drew a deep breath and reached for her cell phone. "Let's get started."

It was early afternoon when Jake parked his car in the campus parking lot and walked over to the sports building, nodding at the groups of college students on the way. Shouts and yells came from the nearby basketball court, signaling practice was in session.

A fast glance showed Hunter wasn't in sight, his assistant running drills with the eager players.

Jake headed up the stairs to the coach's office.

He rapped on the door before entering, catching Sally's attention. The secretary rose from her desk, her eyes wide with curiosity. He wasn't wearing his uniform, which added to her confusion.

"Don't worry, I'm not here on police business," he said before she could speak. "Need to have a few words with Hunter."

She let out a sigh. "Thank goodness. I thought for a second it was about the permits. The students know they're not supposed to park on the city streets but—"

Jake smiled. "We're good. Hunter in?"

"Sure." She motioned him toward the office in the back. "Let me know if there's anything you need."

He hadn't seen Hunter Stratham in a few weeks, the last time being at a basketball game, when they'd dealt with a couple of drunk tailgaters. Hunter offered his support, keeping the students in line when tempers began to run hot. He'd helped defuse the situation and for that much, Jake was grateful. They'd talked over the years, but not much more than exchanging basic greetings and general chit-chat.

As far as Angela went—he'd been married when he got the job and while he knew Hunter had dated her in high school, the topic of their shared past had never come up. There'd never been a need to discuss it, so they hadn't.

Now his wife was gone and Angela was back…

His world and Hunter's were about to crash into each other with dangerous possibilities.

He knocked on the doorframe.

Hunter looked up from his desk and waved him in with a smile.

If Jake didn't know better, he'd have believed there was a special memo sent out dictating how sports coaches had to dress. Hunter always wore white shirts and khakis, the beige light jacket hanging on the back of the office chair.

"Hello." Hunter put his pencil down. "I can guess why you're here." He crooked a finger at the door.

Jake took the hint and closed it before taking the open seat in front of the desk. "I'm sure you can. Question is what we're going to do about it." He lifted his left leg and rested his boot on the edge of the desk. The black polished leather shone under the fluorescent lights.

"Basic facts. Angela's back in town. She's likely going to stay for a while." Once more, Hunter smiled. "And when she gets over that asshole, she'll hopefully be open to dating again. Her two best choices are in this room." He pointed at his chest. "And the best one's right here."

Jake smiled, but said nothing.

The silence hung in the air between them for a full minute, each sizing up the other.

"For the record, I don't want to fight you," Hunter said. "My days of street brawling are pretty well behind me."

"Good. You'd lose."

Hunter arched one eyebrow. "Don't bet on it." He eyed the policeman. "You don't know everything about me."

"I don't," Jake replied. "But I know I could take you."

Hunter leaned back in the chair, forcing a creak from the wooden seat. "Maybe." He drawled, his blue eyes locking with Jake's.

He stared back, not giving an inch.

After a minute Hunter grinned again and broke away. "Maybe not."

Again, Jake returned the smile.

Hunter dropped the grin and stared at him with a sudden intensity. "It'll be her choice. But I will make you bleed if you don't give her all the space she needs right now."

Jake frowned, taken aback by the statement.

This wasn't how he'd envisioned this conversation going.

Hunter entwined his fingers and leaned forward. "You're not stupid and neither am I, so let's cut through the crap." His voice was low and firm, talking to Jake as an equal. "Angela's in a bad spot right now. Betrayed by the man she thought she loved, that she was engaged to. She's emotionally vulnerable, and I have no doubt if I went after her, she'd be in my bed soon enough." He eyed Jake. "Maybe you could do the same. But it won't be right for her. Not for the future."

Jake flashed back to the encounter on the porch, the kiss…

He leaned back, letting Hunter say his piece.

Hunter pointed at himself. "Angela and I, we broke up on good terms. I’m guessing you did the same. We know if she jumps into bed with either of us it's going to be a rough morning after when she wakes up and crashes back into reality."

"Good point," Jake conceded. "She's in a bad place right now, cleaning up the mess from the asshole."

"Exactly. It might be a night of fun, but she'd feel awful the next day and she doesn't need that on top with everything else. Not to mention bringing the wrath of Mary-Ann down on our heads if Angela goes home weeping and crying about how she wasn't ready to deal with another relationship and feels like crap for starting something up with either of us. So, I'd like to propose a deal."

Jake stared at him. "A deal? A deal about what?"

"About Angela. This town doesn't need us to be at war with each other. We've got enough mutual friends that'll be forced to take sides—and the rest of the town'll line up fast enough behind one or the other. In a big city, no one would give a crap, but here… we don't need that type of tension tearing people apart. It'd be a losing proposition for everyone involved. Best to avoid it at all costs."

Jake couldn't disagree with the man's logic.

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

"I propose a gentleman's agreement between us. Three months' moratorium on chasing Angela Kenzie. Visit her, call her, be a good friend. But no getting it on."

"Getting it on." Jake smirked. "I like that phrase. Leaves a whole lot of space for interpretation."

"Don't be an ass." The harsh tone slapped him across the face. "You know what I'm talking about." Hunter's eyes narrowed. "Or do you need me to spell it out to you?"

Jake got to his feet. "I'm not stupid."

Hunter stood up as well. "Then don't act like you are." He pointed at the nearby window. "Either of us pushes her, and she's going to bounce away from both of us and leave town. Then where's she going to go? Back to Philly, to the asshole that broke her heart? I want her to be happy, don't you?"

"You expect me to hold back, be all nice and friendly and take you at your word that you're not sneaking around my back to see her?" Jake shook his head. "Not going to happen."

"I expect you to trust me if I promise I won't be anything more than a good friend to her." He picked up a pencil and bent it between his fingers. "Another relationship right after breaking up with the douchebag isn't going to be good for her. Too much pressure on her and she's going to snap. Do you want that? I sure as hell don't."

The splinters flew across the desk. Some landed at Jake's feet.

He winced.

Hate to admit it but the man's got a point.

"So," Hunter continued. "Let's be her good friends for three months. Let's be her safe place to fall, her shoulder to cry on. Support her in whatever she decides to do, while keeping our hands off her. Give her space and let her find her way again. She's a hell of a strong woman—I'd like to see her make her way without either of us muddying the waters."

Jake pressed his lips into a tight line before answering. "Okay. But I'm not going to avoid her. She wants to see me, she sees me. We show up at the same places, I'm staying put. I'm not going to cut and run every time she shows up at the grocery store."

"Agreed." Hunter held out his hand. "For three months, we'll be the best of friends and nothing else. After that we can both make our cases to her and see if she's interested in seeing either of us again." He paused. "If she chooses you, I'll wish you the best and back away. Hope you'd do the same if she picks me."

"Agreed. But—" Jake cleared his throat. "You hurt her and you'll have to answer to me. And I don't make idle threats. You can ask Angela."

"I'm sure. Same goes for me." Hunter kept his hand out. "But this only works if we trust each other."

Jake eyed him. "Not going to make you swear a blood oath, but if you break this deal, I'll come after you."

"Understood." Hunter didn't move.

Jake grabbed the outstretched hand. "May the best man win."

Hunter increased the pressure, causing Jake to grit his teeth with the sudden and intense pain. "I think he will."