Beg To Die. BEVERLY BARTON

still love him. But not the way she used to. She wasn’t crazy in love with Jamie anymore, but she couldn’t deny that a part of her would always care about him. Hell, she knew he was a louse and considered herself well rid of that wild infatuation, but maybe a woman never quite got over her first love. Her first lover.

       You need to give yourself a chance to find someone better. If you weren’t so afraid of getting hurt, you might actually fall in love again. And it could be good. Maybe better than anything she’d ever known. Didn’t she deserve to love and be loved with honesty, devotion, and commitment?

      A soft knock on the door brought her quickly from her musings. “Yes?”

      The door eased open partway and Laura Willis peeped into the office. “Ms. Talbot, may I speak to you?”

      “Phone call for you,” Lacy Fallon shouted to Caleb as she held up the phone located behind the bar.

      He wasn’t accustomed to getting calls at work. The few people he knew in Cherokee Pointe either dropped by to see him in person or telephoned him at home, if you could actually call his small rental cabin home. The place came fully furnished, and he’d done nothing to personalize it. He was a man who traveled light. All the extra baggage he carried was purely emotional, and he did his level best to never expose his vulnerabilities. He was a man without ties, free to pick up and leave anytime he chose to.

      “Who is it?” Caleb asked the bartender.

      “Chief Sloan,” Lacy replied.

      “Dallas Sloan?”

      Now why would the recently hired chief of police want to talk to him? He knew Dallas on a personal basis only because the former FBI agent was now engaged to Jazzy’s best friend, Genny Madoc. But he and Dallas weren’t buddies, no more than he and Jacob Butler were. He liked and respected both men, but he’d given them a wide berth. He’d had his fill of lawmen back in Memphis. Hell, he’d had his fill of just about everything, including his job on the Memphis police force. But that had been another time, another place, another life. When he’d come to Cherokee Pointe back in January, he’d come here searching for some answers about his past—about his mother’s past. He’d had no intention of staying once he’d gotten those answers. But those plans had altered once he met Jasmine Talbot. The lady had gotten under his skin the moment they met.

      Hell, admit it, McCord, you wanted to fuck her when you first laid eyes on her. Jazzy had hot and wild written all over her. And he wanted to be the man she gave all that hot wildness to—in and out of bed. That very first night when Jamie Upton had tried to manhandle her, Caleb had taken great pleasure in throwing the guy out of Jazzy’s Joint. He’d hated seeing the fear in Jazzy’s eyes. But he’d hated even more realizing she and Upton shared a lot of history. The lady brought out every possessive, protective instinct he had.

      So he’d hung around, accepted a job as the bouncer at Jazzy’s Joint, and decided to take his time unearthing the truth about his mother’s past here in Cherokee County—and all because he had a hankering for a woman who probably would never get over her teenage crush on Jamie Upton.

      Caleb made his way through the crowded room, packed to capacity because it was a Saturday night and locals as well as tourists found Jazzy’s Joint the ideal place to let off a little steam. When he went behind the bar, Lacy nodded at the portable receiver she’d placed by the telephone base. After picking up the receiver, he escaped into the hallway that led to the storerooms on one side and Jazzy’s office on the other. No way could he have heard anything if he’d stayed in the bar. Between the games going on at the pool tables, the music blasting from the live band, and the buzz of talk and laughter from the patrons, a guy couldn’t hear himself think.

      “McCord here.”

      “This is Dallas Sloan.”

      “Yeah, Chief, what can I do for you?”

      Dallas cleared his throat. “Genny wanted me to call you.”

      Puzzled, Caleb asked, “Why would—?”

      “It’s about Jazzy.”

      “What about her?”

      “Hell, McCord, this is awkward for me,” Dallas admitted. “But Genny had one of her visions this morning and she’s worried about Jazzy.”

      “Why call me?” Get real, Caleb told himself. Don’t you think Dallas and Genny know you’ve got the hots for Jazzy?

      “Like I said, it wasn’t my idea to get in touch with you. But my future wife can be very persuasive when she’s determined to get her way. I’m contacting you because you and Jazzy are friends and you two spend a great deal of time together there at Jazzy’s Joint. And because Genny feels that you care about Jazzy, enough to want to protect her.”

      “Protect her from what?”

      “Jamie Upton.”

      “Look, tell your wife-to-be that there’s only so much I can do. If Jazzy chooses to be with Upton, then—”

      “Genny believes someone is going to kill Upton and that somehow Jazzy will be blamed for his murder.”

      “Are you shitting me?”

      “Look, McCord, there was a time when I thought Genny’s visions were a bunch of nonsense. But I’ve learned better.”

      “Why not call Upton and tell him he’s a dead man walking?”

      “He’s not going to believe Genny. He’s an arrogant fool, and we both know it.”

      “What does Genny want from me?”

      “She wants you to keep an eye on Jazzy. If someone does kill Upton, we don’t want Jazzy involved in any way.”

      “Like I said, there’s only so much I can do. It’s not as if Jazzy and I live together. Hell, we aren’t even dating.”

      “Hey, I’m just the messenger here. Genny doesn’t want to frighten or upset Jazzy, but she does want someone helping us look out for her. Jacob’s going to do his part to watch out for her and we’ve discussed keeping tabs on Upton, too. Unofficially, of course. Genny seems to think we can count on you to help us watch over Jazzy. Is she wrong?”

      “No, she’s not wrong.”

      “Okay then, that’s it.”

      “Yeah, that’s it.” Caleb felt as awkward about this conversation as Chief Sloan did. They’d come damn near close to talking about their feelings. God, what a man would do for the woman he loved! And everybody in Cherokee County knew that Dallas Sloan loved his future wife about as much as a man could love a woman.

      As he passed by the bar, Caleb handed the phone to Lacy, who looked at him questioningly. Ordinarily he didn’t bother explaining himself to anyone, but Lacy had become a friend since he’d been working at Jazzy’s Joint. The middle-aged brunette’s lifetime smoker’s gravelly voice, coarse skin, and deeply lined face belied her strong maternal instincts. She looked like an old barfly, with her long, frizzy hair, her double set of big silver hoop earrings, and her flashy, skintight clothes, but at heart Lacy Fallon was a mother. She’d never had any kids of her own. “Three husbands and not one baby,” she’d told him. “My fault, not theirs. My equipment wasn’t no good. I’m barren as the desert.” She’d laughed when she’d said it, but he’d heard the hurt in her voice.

      “Chief Sloan said Genny’s worried about Jazzy. They want me to keep an eye on her,” Caleb told Lacy.

      “They want you to keep Jamie Upton away from her, don’t they?”

      Caleb nodded. “I told Sloan I’d do what I could, but if Jazzy wants to entertain the bastard in her apartment late at night, what am I supposed to do?”

      “You’re supposed to go up there and run his ass off. That’s what you’re supposed to do. She doesn’t love him anymore. She honest to God wants things over with once and for all. But he keeps