The Keeper Read online

  Sharon Timmons picked herself up from a rough childhood, making a new life for herself. Dumped by her cop boyfriend, his partner rescued her, heart and soul. No one had ever really needed Pete Rayne until Sharon came along. A knockout with insecurities, Pete scooped her up in his arms–literally–and didn’t plan to let her go. He’s determined to prove he’s the one man who’ll love her forever. Sharon finally realizes her intense, honest relationship with Pete is true, and that he is The Keeper.

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  Reviews for The Keeper

  5 Hearts from The Romance Studio Blue - "It's great to watch the author build this story into something really special. It's a wonderful reinforcement to a belief that people should never give up on love."

  4 Nymphs from Literary Nymphs Reviews - "An impressive read."

  4 Cherries from Whipped Cream - "The way Sharon survived, learned to trust and eventually love again was very moving and touched my heart."

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  The Keeper

  A sequel to Home to Stay

  by

  Jane Leopold Quinn

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  KINDLE EDITION

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  Copyright 2009, revised 2012 by Jane Leopold Quinn

  Cover design by Heidi Hutchinson

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Chapter One

  Pete Rayne didn't run from the thought of getting married. He just hadn't met the right woman. Yet. He always figured, not to sound incestuous, that he'd marry a girl like his sisters. Blonde, blue-eyed, sweet and innocent looking. He never, in a million years, believed he'd seriously fall for the exact opposite.

  Sharon Timmons was someone else's girlfriend, though. His partner's, to be exact. Off limits, untouchable, taboo. So, he didn't touch. He just occasionally fantasized about her. However, the night his partner, Hank Crossman, followed the new woman in town, Nickie Grace, out of Nook's, Pete knew it was time to make his move on Sharon.

  "Well," he said to Sharon. "I guess it's just you and me. Do you want to go home or stay a while longer?"

  She concentrated on drawing circles in the wet rings on the bar. "Like I didn't see that coming a mile off."

  He couldn't stand the dejected look on her beautiful face. "Dance with me, Share?"

  "Oh, that's all right." Her brows drew together in a frown. "You don't need to…"

  "Don't think about it right now, honey. Let's just dance." He brushed her jaw, raised his hand to her hair, and twisted his finger into the curls around her ear, his gaze following the movement. Pure silk, soft as clouds, he had to clench his fist to keep from clutching the strands and burying his face in her hair.

  Instead, he escorted her to the dance floor and wrapped her in his arms. He couldn't believe it. This was just like his fantasies, except they'd involved being naked in bed with her on top. She folded into his embrace as if she was well familiar with him. Her delicate body with its high, firm breasts, felt like heaven against his chest. Unbelievably, his arms shook more than they should have, so he tightened them and hunched over as if protecting her.

  He rested his cheek against her hair and pulled her even closer, one hand around her waist, the other cupping her nape. She must have just washed her hair because even in the smoky bar, the scent of it was fresh and lemony. Every delicious inch of her—breasts, belly, and thighs—crushed against him as they swayed to the music. There was no way she could mistake his sexual interest since his cock had grown hard and heated, but he tried his damnedest not to grind it into the cushion of her body.

  "Sharon, look at me," he commanded in a husky, none too steady whisper, pulling gently on her hair to tip up her chin. "Share?" He tugged again. Crap. She's shivering. Is she crying?

  She finally lifted her eyes to his. "No, no, I'm all right."

  He could barely hear her over the jukebox.

  "You don't have to do this."

  "I don't have to do anything, Share, but I want to kiss you." Hank was an asshole for dumping her publicly like this. For so many reasons, some he didn't quite understand, he wanted to make it better for her. They swayed to the beat of a Joe Nichols ballad. His chest expanded against her breasts.

  "Pete, it's…"

  He lowered his head and murmured into her ear. "But, if you want, I'll wait."

  "Wait?" She tensed, pulled her arms from around his neck, and grasped his forearms.

  Her small hands on his arms made him feel strong and protective. "Until tomorrow night. How about we go to a movie tomorrow night?" He held back from taking advantage of how close his lips were to her ear. He really wanted to kiss the pretty little shell, and, oh fuck, he wanted to suck her earlobe between his teeth and bite.

  She clung to him. The noise and smoke of the bar disappeared, and it was as if they were alone. Some singer a long time ago said dancing was like making love standing up. Man, was he right. Maybe she'd like to dance naked. He groaned, the sound reverberating in his chest.

  When the song ended, and he reluctantly came to his senses, he steered her to the door and out into the steamy night. He was all heat, hot from the night and hot from Sharon. Extremely aroused, he stood very close to her at her car door, balancing one hand on the roof of the car, resting the other on her waist. She toyed with the buttons on his shirt. He held his breath when she pressed her palms against his chest, then lost it when she brushed her knuckles on his belly, just above his belt buckle.

  Her expression was surprisingly shy, which seemed odd for the experienced woman he thought she was. Is she playing me?

  Her fingers resting on his belt, she whispered, "Do we have to wait for tomorrow night for the kiss?"

  Her lips parted and pursed, her gaze focused on his mouth, and that was all she wrote. Instantly, his mouth connected full on with hers. Lightly—intense but delicate—he brushed his lips back and forth, learning her, tasting her. He fought his desire for more. He wanted to plunder, but the softness of her response kept him in check. He let her lead the way and narrowed his eyes to watch her expression.

  Hers popped open.

  With a shivering sigh, her breasts rose against his chest. The kiss ended. They separated, both gasping raggedly. What's wrong with me? He'd been turned on before, but he'd never had this much trouble breathing.

  She cupped his cheek, scraping her nails in his late night whiskers. "Wow," she said.

  "Yeah," he responded, feeling distinctly off kilter.

  She smiled at him. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"

  "You bet," he replied huskily. "I'll call you." Bracing his legs, he watched her pull out of the parking lot and drive down the street. "Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. "I gotta talk to Hank." There was no way he was going to let his partner have her back. Not after that kiss.

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  "Hey, Rayne, it sure looked like you
were gettin' some last night."

  Pete was barely in the door of the sheriff's station before fellow Deputy Ron Zayboh opened his big mouth. He motioned the other man down the hallway toward the john. Zayboh followed, probably thinking he was going to get some juicy details.

  "If I'd known Hank was dumping the beautiful Ms. Timmons, I might ha…"

  Pete didn't raise his voice, didn't put a hand on Ron, but gave him a shoulder butt into the concrete block wall. "I'm not real fond of hearing that kind of talk, Zayboh," he growled sotto voce. "So, shut the fuck up about Sharon."

  "Hey, man, calm down." Ron held his hands up, palms out in surrender. "It's all right."

  "No, it's not all right. I don't know what you and Hank talked about, but around me, she's off limits to you. All of you, for that matter. Got it?"

  "Yeah, sure, man. I'm sorry. I was just jokin' around."

  Ron wasn't a bad guy. In fact, Pete had also thought Sharon was easy. Any woman with a body like hers, a gorgeous face, and who dated a lot just had to be easy. The question was why he was getting all bent out of shape about it.

  Because now she's dating me, that's why. If the guys didn't treat her with respect, well, then he'd beat them to a bloody pulp. "Okay. No more joking. Treat her respectfully." He shot Ron a final glare.

  "Hey, no problem, Pete."

  "Okay," he grumbled in response.

  "O-kay." Ron turned on his heel and hooked his thumbs in his gun belt in a show of nonchalance as he strolled back to the squad room.

  Zayboh had the last word, but since it was okay, Pete let it go. Now he wondered how many of the guys had she slept with. Hank, for sure. Well, he wasn't going to ask her. Whom she'd been with before they hooked up was none of his business. Not that he liked it. It just was none of his business.

  Nevertheless, Hank had better not think he's getting her back.

  Speaking of Hank, where the hell is he? They had rats to deal with. The night before, after Sharon drove off, the sheriff's dispatcher had sent Pete to Nickie Grace's house. Someone had peppered her porch with dead rats. She'd given in and spent the night at Hank's house. Maybe he'd gotten lucky.

  Chapter Two

  Warm chocolate drizzled on her lips, the sweet, thick fudge sliding over her tongue and down her throat. She licked her lips and moaned at the rich, luscious scent that brought back memories of the bittersweet times of her childhood. Wriggling between the sheets, she burrowed deeper into her pillow, cocooned and safe in her little world of delicious chocolate delicacies. They'd never let her down. She didn't want to open her eyes, didn't want to spoil the moment.

  Rolling over, she hugged the pillow to her chest and fought coming awake to the real world. In her dream, she'd been the chubby ten-year-old girl, stuffing herself full of hot fudge sundaes after school, hoping to erase the pain of her loneliness.

  Very early in life, Sharon had separated her reality into two parts. When other kids made fun of her weight, when she couldn't catch her breath in gym class, when her fat jiggled as she ran around the track at school, she let chocolate—cookies, cupcakes, and candy bars—lessen her pain. She would recite her litany of eating pleasures, and the sounds of laughter and taunts melted away; much like fudge melting in her mouth. Therefore, reality number one was the pain. Reality number two was the pleasure that kept reality number one at bay, at least temporarily.

  She woke up very slowly this morning, memories from the night before drifting back to her. The pain and the pleasure, just like her childhood. The extreme rejection of Hank walking out on her in front of everybody, and the unbelievable pleasure Pete showed her. Would that pleasure last longer than chocolate had? Probably not.

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  Sharon was so happy to be outside in the fresh air after her shift was over. Her job as a dental assistant started at eight, the shift was over at three, and she usually grabbed only a quick yogurt for lunch in order to keep the appointments going. Wanting a normal career even if it wasn't something glamorous, she'd worked hard for the specialized training in a steady job. One she could hold with pride. After her chaotic childhood, normalcy in her adulthood was of paramount importance.

  Glancing across the street, she spotted Pete talking to Hank, Nickie Grace, and another woman who was practically standing on top of him. It was like a punch to the gut. He was nice to her just last night, carried her away and kissed her as if he meant it. That was all right. She wasn't invested in a relationship with Pete any more than she'd been with Hank. Guys were like that. You couldn't trust them.

  "Hey, Share, wait up!" Pete shouted as he steadied his equipment belt and bounded across the street, totally abandoning the three people in the park. "You look great."

  She couldn't help smiling at his enthusiastic greeting, but she demurred, "I'm sure I look like hell after a full day at work, but thank you anyway."

  "I'm not kidding. You look so cute. Your knees are adorable." With his infectious smile, his gaze roamed appreciatively over her.

  She ate up his compliments. "Well, I hate baggy scrubs."

  "I've never seen anyone else wear them as well as you do." He placed both hands around her waist.

  Her body heated, and her expression turned serious. All she could do was grip his arms, her hands around his elbows to steady herself. After years of being thin, she still couldn't see herself as anything other than the chubby young girl. She thrilled at the feel of a big, strong man's hands around her waist. It made her feel delicate and dainty.

  His gaze, sparkling with heat and sensuality, searched hers. "Your waist is so tiny."

  She shivered in dismay. What if he found out the truth about her? The truth she was really a fat girl in a new body? He'd hate her. Teenage boys always had. The blare of a car horn jolted her out of her frightening thoughts, and she glanced across the street to the people in the park. "Um, I won't hold you to our date."

  "Huh?"

  "If you have other plans, that's okay." She forced herself to keep her composure.

  "What do you mean?"

  His confusion seemed genuine, so she nodded toward Hank and the women.

  He followed her glance, ran his hands up to her shoulders, and stepped closer. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

  His warm breath puffed against her forehead, but she couldn't make herself look up at him.

  "Shit, you think I'd stand you up?"

  Her head popped up. "Well…"

  "No way." He pulled her into a snug embrace and kissed her full on the mouth.

  At first, she stiffened, shocked he would kiss her in public in the daylight, but his lips softened hers. They were tender and sumptuous, better than last night.

  He didn't give her a chance to answer before pulling her in more tightly and whispering in her ear, "God, I've been thinking about that all night. Have you?"

  She slowly raised her lashes and nearly fell to her knees at everything she saw in his green eyes, in his open and sincere expression. Confidence and sensuality. Oh, how she wanted him.

  "Tell me you've been thinking about this." He sounded almost pleading as he tenderly touched his lips again to hers.

  She was lost in his sipping and nipping mouth and clutched his shirtsleeves. Reluctantly coming up for air, she protested, "Pete, you're on duty. You'll get in trouble."

  He chuckled, "What're they going to do, arrest me?"

  "Oh, hell, I'll bail you out." She slid her arms around his waist, above his duty belt. Feeling more confident he wasn't going to dump her, she hugged him tightly. Nibbling at his lips, she loved their firm, smooth texture. He had lips made for kissing. He smelled of light cologne, and tasted of the hard candy everyone knew he kept in his pockets. Strawberry, if she wasn't mistaken.

  When they finally ended the kiss in order to breathe properly, he explained the morning's events and the other woman in the park.

  She voiced a million questions. Did they have any suspects? Where were Nickie and her sister staying? At Hank's? Would someone really hurt Nickie
, did he think? Had Hank tried to fix Pete up with the sister?

  He shook his head. "Nope. Hank and I had a talk this morning."

  She stiffened, anger flaring. "Oh, so I'm just going to be passed around—?"

  He cupped her cheek in his palm. She tried to turn her head.

  "No! Share, how can you even think that?" He frowned in confusion.

  Oh, my God. She was giving too much away, letting him see her vulnerable side. "It would be nice if he would talk to me."

  "Shit. I thought he had. I'm so sorry, Sharon." He glanced across the street at his partner then back at her.

  Struggling to get her poise back, she couldn't let her insecure panic show. "I'm sure he will then," she said, as much to assure herself as Pete.

  "Will you come over and meet everyone?" He gazed at her searchingly. "Then we'll talk about tonight."

  ***

  Instead of going to the movies, Pete agreed he and Sharon would go dancing at Nook's with Hank, Nickie, and Bobbie. Nickie's sister was visiting for the weekend. Pete wasn't usually much of a dancer, but there'd be Sharon, music, and beer. What more did a guy need?

  It was friggin' disco night. When the girls started dancing, there wasn't another woman in the place for him. He'd known Sharon for a few years and always believed her to be a knockout with a killer bod. They'd just never been in the same place, same time romantically. Then Hank got there first.

  There was more to her than he'd thought. Hell, there was a lot more to her. She wasn't just a natural-born flirt, a party girl. She had a different side to her, one he doubted even Hank had seen. An insecurity, vulnerability, and loneliness. These tugged at his heartstrings and brought out a protective instinct in him. Its depth surprised him.

  While she danced with the other gals, their eyes locked and stayed locked. He'd teased her, looking down, shading his eyes in mock embarrassment. She'd thrown her head back and laughed, adding an extra few brazen wiggles that gave him a mild heart attack.

  The jukebox blared. All the women sang—

  "…pleasures in the night…"

  Nickie and Bobbie's short skirts were hot, but Sharon's long, sleek, form-fitting dress made him hungry to peel it off and get to the luscious body underneath. Her spectacular figure weaved sinuously, bumping and grinding to the music. When she tapped hips with the sisters, lifting her arms and shimmying, his cock hardened painfully behind the zipper in his jeans. He nearly exploded. Then she smiled at him, a flirty, private smile and held his gaze for several beats. He'd never liked disco as much as he did watching Sharon dance to it.