Marked By The Marshal. Julie Anne Lindsey

told him not to come?

      Her nose wrinkled. “West told you about the park? Why?”

      “He was worried. Thought I might be, too.”

      “Why?” she repeated. A flash of emotion passed over her stunned expression.

      “Maybe you could tell me more about what happened today.” He inched toward the kitchen. “We can sit down. Go over the details.”

      “Okay.” She ghosted in front of him. Flipping on lights and starting up the coffee maker. “Coffee?”

      “Sure.”

      Kara kept her back to him as she prepped the mugs. Her head shook infinitesimally, and he was thankful not to know what she was thinking.

      He didn’t mind the view, either. Being back in this place with her was a lot for him to process. He hadn’t anticipated the intensity of it. The sight of their old things. The sound of her grandma’s too-loudly-ticking wall clock, and the scents of that sugar-and-spice candle she loved so much. He smiled. In all the years they’d been together, Kara never let their—her—personal supply run out. One year for Christmas he’d bought her a case of those candles to be mischievous, but she’d been so pleased that they’d made love right there under the tree. His attention drifted to the exact spot, and heat rose in his chest.

      The coffee maker chugged steam into the air, drawing his attention back to the kitchen.

      Ryder blew out a long breath and refocused on Kara, but that didn’t help clean up his thoughts. And never mind the fact that Kara was wearing a tank top and shorts set that clung distractingly to her new, curvier...everything.

      She spun on him suddenly. A frown creased her brow.

      He jerked his gaze to her eyes. “What?” Caught ogling. Real nice. A true gentleman.

      She shook her head again. “West told you that some creep harassed me this morning, and you what? Drove straight here from wherever you live now?”

      He nodded slowly. “Cincinnati.” That almost summed it up. That and the fact that he believed her harasser to be a murdering psychopath, but there was no reason to say so until he was sure. For the moment, Ryder was enjoying this strange trip into his past. It was nice being there with her. Nostalgic.

      Unfortunately, once Kara learned it was probably him who’d put her and her baby in danger, she’d want to coldcock him with that coffeepot.

      She made her way to the table, two mugs in hand. The faint scent of cinnamon drifted in the bitter steam. He’d almost forgotten the way she added the spice to her grounds.

      “Thanks.” He took a seat and waited while she did the same. “Can you tell me everything you told West about the man, plus anything you might’ve forgotten to mention, but thought of later?”

      “Sure, but it’s probably nothing. I only called because the park was so busy, and I knew I’d never forgive myself if the guy tried to take one of those other children and I hadn’t spoken up.”

      Ryder’s shoulders relaxed by a fraction. “You think he was a child abductor?” Timothy Sand was many awful things, but pedophile wasn’t one of them. Maybe he’d been wrong about this.

      “I don’t know. He leered at me pretty good,” she said, looking fairly ill.

      “What made you think the man might try to take a child? Did he try to take your baby?”

      “No.” Kara sipped her coffee. “He asked if he could hold her, but I’d already told him we needed to leave. It was really weird. Then, he put his hand on the stroller for a minute when I tried to go, but he relented, and he never threatened us. I just had this feeling.” She fisted a hand against her gut. “You know?”

      He did. Instinct had told her that man was dangerous, so he probably was. “Start from the beginning.”

      She set her cup down and stared into it. Slowly, her lids slid shut, and she began to recount the exchange in unbelievable detail. A hat had hidden the man’s hair and shaded his eyes, but she was certain they were both brown. He was clean-shaven, and she’d noticed acne scars along his cheeks. There was a tattoo on his left wrist. A single black heart.

      “Observant.” Pride bloomed in Ryder’s chest. They used to test one another about the little details around them. She’d enjoyed the game more than he did because despite his flashy badge, she’d usually won. She claimed being a kindergarten teacher made paying attention to the details especially necessary.

      Kara opened her eyes and lanced him with her careful stare. “I’m glad you’re here, Ryder. You look good, and I’m glad to see you this way again.”

      He didn’t have to ask what she meant by “this way again.” He knew. Healthy. Rested. Fed. The last time she’d seen him, he was a shell of himself, obsessed with the one that had literally gotten away. He didn’t eat or sleep in those days, and he was pretty light on the showers and speech. He’d spent every hour fixated on Timothy Sand and his capture. Ryder raised his mug and blew across the fog of steam. “Thanks. I took your advice. Got some help.”

      Agency-mandated help, but still.

      He’d lost control and laid a fist into the new kid who’d brought Sand in but failed to keep him in jail because of the flimsy case he’d prepared. Ryder had been temporarily relieved of his badge and sidearm after that. It was the lowest point of his career. The lowest point of his life had been two months earlier, when Kara told him to pull it together or leave.

      The suspension eventually opened his eyes to how far he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Mandatory sessions with an in-house therapist had helped him get his life back together. By that time, it was too late to come home to Kara. His mind was clear, and he finally understood how much he’d hurt her. She deserved better than that.

      “You ever catch that guy?” she asked. “What was his name—Timothy Rand?”

      “Sand,” Ryder corrected. “Timothy Sand. No. I never did.”

      She twisted her mouth into a sad smile. As if to say, It was all for nothing, then. A broken engagement. Two broken hearts.

      Ryder cleared his thickening throat. “How about you? You’re stunning as ever. Motherhood’s been good to you, I see.”

      “Thanks.” She dropped her attention away from him, and a blush darkened her cheeks. When she dragged her gaze back to his, she smiled. “She might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I never expected I’d be a single mother, but she’s worth it, and I know we’ll be okay.”

      Kara was strong. He’d never let the kindergarten-teacher front fool him. She could command armies if needed. “And the father?” Ryder forced the last word through his teeth. No one who abandoned his woman and unborn child deserved a title like that. But what else could he call him. Whoever he was.

      “Gone.” She pulled in and released a long, steady breath. There was no remorse in her face, no anger. She was a better person than Ryder. The man hadn’t done a thing to him, and he wanted to punch his face.

      “Does he check in from time to time or...”

      “No,” she interrupted. “Like I said. He’s gone.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that.” And he was. Because if the guy was here, he could hit him.

      “Thanks.”

      West had it right on this one. Kara was better off without a man who’d leave her like that. Ryder settled back in his chair, stretching booted feet beneath the table. He and Kara were about as caught up as they could get without unloading the massive elephant from his pocket. He set his phone on the table and flipped quickly through the photos he’d downloaded after speaking with West tonight. “I’ve got a photo of a fugitive I’d like you to look at.”

      Kara stiffened. He could almost see the lightbulb flicking on as fear