His First Choice Read online

  The best decision they’ll ever make

  Lacey Hamilton is used to living in the background. Overshadowed her entire life, she stepped out of the Hollywood limelight and into the role she’s meant to play: a counselor, part of the High Risk Team started by The Lemonade Stand women’s shelter in Santa Raquel.

  Her caseload leads her to the doorstep of Jeremiah “Jem” Bridges to rescue a little boy. She’s not supposed to fall in love with the rugged construction worker and his adorable son. Love and duty, though, don’t always agree. Especially when a truth is uncovered that neither she nor Jem is prepared to face.

  “I want to see you in a bad mood.”

  That didn’t come out the way Jem meant it to...

  “What? Why?”

  The look Lacey was giving him could have made him feel awkward. Except that it seemed warm. Maybe he needed to slow down on the wine.

  “They say you don’t truly know someone until you’ve seen them at their worst. I want to really know you.” Now, that had come out right.

  “So...you show me your worst and I’ll show you mine.”

  He grinned. “I don’t think I can find it right now.”

  “Me, either.”

  Leaning forward, he reached for her. Pulled her toward him. She stood. And so did he. And they were just standing there, looking at each other.

  “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You’ve seen...”

  With a finger to her lips he tried to silence her.

  “But it’s true, Jem,” she continued softly, her gaze imploring him to understand. “Life’s hard enough without hiding from the truth.”

  Dear Reader,

  This book is...not ordinary. I think it’s powerful. And emotionally compelling. And I hope so much you give it a chance. I can tell you why I think this, and hope this. I can describe Jem to you. He’s the hero of my heart. But I’m afraid if I say too much, you’ll move on without giving him a chance.

  Jem’s a construction worker. Okay, yeah, he owns the business, and wears a shirt and tie to work every day. But he wears them with jeans. And he learned the business with his hands before he ever considered being the brains behind it all.

  He’s alpha all the way. And he’s a single dad to a four-year-old I wish I could hug. He’s a good dad. Involved. Aware. And firm, too, when he needs to be.

  And...Jem is...well... I hope you’ll give him a chance. I can’t imagine a romance reader not being glad they did.

  Then there’s Lacey. Sometimes I wanted to just do her hair and makeup, force her into an attention-getting outfit and push her out the door. But she has Kacey for that. My job was to be patient. To listen. And tell her story. Her story touched me deeply. So here it is...

  I love to hear from readers! You can find me on Facebook at Facebook.com/tarataylorquinn and on Twitter, @tarataylorquinn. Or join my Friendship board, Pinterest.com/tarataylorquinn/friendship.

  All the best,

  Tara

  www.TaraTaylorQuinn.com

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  TARA TAYLOR QUINN

  His First Choice

  An author of more than seventy novels, Tara Taylor Quinn is a USA TODAY bestselling author with more than seven million copies sold. She is known for delivering emotional and psychologically astute novels of suspense and romance. Tara is a past president of Romance Writers of America. She has won a Readers’ Choice Award and is a five-time finalist for an RWA RITA® Award, a finalist for a Reviewer’s Choice Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. She has also appeared on TV across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning. She supports the National Domestic Violence Hotline. If you or someone you know might be a victim of domestic violence in the United States, please contact 1-800-799-7233.

  Books by Tara Taylor Quinn

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  Where Secrets are Safe

  Wife by Design

  Once a Family

  Husband by Choice

  Child by Chance

  Mother by Fate

  The Good Father

  Love by Association

  Shelter Valley Stories

  Sophie’s Secret

  Full Contact

  It’s Never Too Late

  Second Time’s the Charm

  The Moment of Truth

  It Happened in Comfort Cove

  A Son’s Tale

  A Daughter’s Story

  The Truth About Comfort Cove

  HARLEQUIN HEARTWARMING

  The Historic Arapahoe

  Once Upon a Friendship

  Once Upon a Marriage

  MIRA BOOKS

  The Second Lie

  The Third Secret

  The Fourth Victim

  The Friendship Pact

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  This book is dedicated to Tim Barney, who is Jem to me in so many ways...

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  EXCERPT FROM PROTECTING THE QUARTERBACK BY KRISTINA KNIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  “MS. HAMILTON? THIS is Mara Noble calling from Busy Little Minds preschool...”

  “Yes, Mara.” As a social worker employed by California Social Services in the child welfare department, Lacey Hamilton had familiarized herself with the reputations and locations of all of the child care facilities and schools in her district of Santa Raquel. Busy Little Minds was one of the best rated for both intellectual and emotional development. “What can I do for you?” While there was kindness in her words, there was no smile attached. If Busy Little Minds was calling her, chances were a serious issue was at hand.

  With her phone on speaker behind the closed door of her private office, she opened a new document on her word-processing program.

  “I have a little boy,” Mara said. “He’s four, and I suspect abuse...”

  The woman knew her stuff. Issuing silent points to Little Minds for employee training, Lacey asked, “Is he there with you now?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is he in need of medical attention?”

  “No. He’s already had medical attention. His father took him to
the emergency room at the Santa Raquel Children’s Hospital over the weekend.”

  Call the hospital. And Ella. Ella Ackerman was the hospital’s representative to the High Risk Team, a group comprised of professionals from various fields that fought to prevent domestic violence deaths. Lacey was the team’s child protective services member.

  “So right now he’s not in any immediate danger.” She went back to the checklist she knew by heart. Determine the immediate safety and medical condition of the child first.

  “Not at the moment.”

  Could the child be in imminent danger?

  “Do you suspect the abuse took place in or outside the home?”

  “It’s not here,” Mara said, her voice solemn and low, as though making sure she wasn’t overheard. “And as far as I can tell, he doesn’t have babysitters and is not in any other activities outside of ours.”

  Parents? Lacey typed onto the blank page. Many of her colleagues still took notes by hand. She always took them electronically, even if she had only her smartphone with her at the time. As if engaging with technology gave her a tiny bit of the distance she had to maintain to be emotionally capable of doing her job.

  “What about siblings?” she asked. “Are you aware of anyone in the home other than his parents?”

  She had to assess the situation to determine which course of action to take: an immediate trip to Little Minds to secure the child within her care while she investigated, or the more preferred, less harsh approach of a call to his parents.

  “No. He’s an only child. And...his parents are divorced.”

  She wrote that word with a capital D. Sadly it showed up in more than 50 percent of her reports.

  “Who has custody?”

  “Our records indicate that they have shared parenting. Dad is the one who always drops him off and picks him up.”

  She typed Father controlling? and then a few notes to herself, to be used later when she made an official report.

  Now for the hardest part.

  “Why do you suspect abuse?” Thousands of kids went to emergency rooms every day, because kids were naturally inquisitive, adventurous, without the wherewithal to calculate danger, making them prone to accidents.

  “This morning he showed up with a cast on his arm. He says he fell, but he mumbles and looks down when he says it. We asked him what he was doing when he fell. He shrugged. No matter what we ask, he shrugs.”

  “What did his father have to say when he dropped him off?”

  “That he fell down.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s it. Mr. Bridges isn’t the chatty sort.”

  More typing, ending with Father evasive?

  Still, kids and broken arms went hand in hand. This one could have fallen off a bike, or from a tree. Not that many four-year-olds were climbing trees or riding bikes. But some did. And some fell from bunk beds, too.

  “Anything else?” she asked, wanting to know why the woman thought this broken arm was different from the norm. A kid not talking about the incident wasn’t all that unusual. He very likely could have been into some kind of mischief and knew he was in trouble. If he’d climbed on a cupboard to sneak a cookie, for instance, or...

  “Yes, Ms. Hamilton, I’m sorry. This is very difficult for me. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to make a call like this and...”

  “I understand,” Lacey filled in, softening her tone, when the woman paused. Abused children were her business. Sometimes she lost sight of the world outside of her small circle, where coming face-to-face with the monstrous fact that heinous people abused children was an anomaly.

  “We’ve had Levi since he was three months old. He started out in day care and then moved to preschool when he was two, which is a year earlier than we usually move them. He’s a precocious little guy. What I’m trying to say is that we know him. And in the past six months, he’s changed. A lot.”

  She needed to know if there were other signs of physical abuse. But listened patiently. She didn’t want to lead her caller into saying something she might not have mentioned, giving it more weight than it deserved.

  Lacey had been at this awhile. Going on ten years. She knew her business. And had given up hoping it would ever get any easier.

  “He’s withdrawn, to the point of not playing well with others. He cries easily, rarely smiles. I can’t remember the last time I heard him laugh. He seems fearful. And...a couple of other times, he’s had bruises. Once on his torso. It had fingertip marks on it.”

  She was pounding the keys hard, her lips pressed together. It could be nothing. Kids went through phases...

  “Do you know if there’s been any changes at home? You said his parents are divorced. Do you know for how long?”

  She’d ask the question again—and more—of the mother and father. Separately. She already knew, just from the little she’d heard, that she was going to have to interview them.

  “Levi was one when his folks split. I remember because we had his first birthday party here with both parents present, at the request of his mother.”

  “So you have met her?”

  “Of course. I know her. She’s just never been the one to drop him off or pick him up on a regular basis. And I haven’t seen or heard from her in at least six months. I could check our sign-in records to tell you the last time she dropped off or picked up.”

  “I would appreciate that.” Lacey typed as she talked. Was Mom isolated from the boy? Had she been threatened? Was she afraid to get help?

  She’d seen it enough to expect such an outcome, but had certainly had many, many calls that, upon investigation, had turned out to be false reports.

  “Where do Mr. and Mrs. Bridges work?” She needed as much information as she could gather, as quickly as she could gather it.

  “He owns a contracting company. It’s a small one, but they build houses. Last I knew she was working at an investment firm, but I don’t think she’s doing that anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “A while back Levi made a comment about his mother being the boss of a money place. I meant to ask Mr. Bridges about it, but I’m not always out front when parents pick up. I guess I just forgot.”

  “Don’t you need work numbers of all of your parents?”

  “Yes, but Mr. and Mrs. Bridges...they both asked that we always call him. They said because she dealt with money and couldn’t always take calls, but being the boss, he could get away for a few if he had to. We have a cell number for her in case of emergency when we can’t reach him.”

  Control. Control. Control. She typed on.

  “Is there anything else you’d like me to know?” she asked, her fingers pausing over the keyboard.

  “It’s just... I notice a pattern. Levi isn’t an accident-prone kind of kid. He used to be boisterous, like a miniature version of one of those guys who’s confident and goes through life getting it right, you know? He almost had a swagger about him. He’d try anything, usually master it, assuming it was age appropriate, but with a certain kind of...grace. He focuses more than most kids his age. But every couple of weeks or so now, he shows up with skinned knees, or a scab on his chin. All explained by play. But...why doesn’t he ever fall down here? And why is it only every couple of weeks?”

  Lacey’s fingers pounded. If she’d been playing the piano she’d grown up mastering, she’d have been bellowing out a crescendo.

  “Do you know his shared parenting schedule?” she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral. With a lifetime of hiding hurt feelings, it was a part of the job that came naturally to her.

  “No.”

  Did Dad pick the boy up and take him to his mother? And then pick him up from her, as well? Had he threatened to take her to court for full custody if she balked at his rules?

  She wond
ered. Maybe even suspected. But she didn’t know.

  Which meant there was room for another explanation. A better scenario.

  “There’s another thing,” the woman said. “His schoolwork is faltering. He did better last year, as the baby of the class, than he’s doing this year...” She talked about numbers and letters, pre-reading and easy reading. Following directions. Shapes and colors that had been mastered the year before seemed to be giving Levi some difficulty now.

  “I guess maybe I’m overreacting,” Mara Noble said next. “But in all my years working in child care, I’ve never had the feeling I get about Levi. There’s something odd about that broken arm of his. He can’t tell me any details. He’s a smart kid, Ms. Hamilton. He’d know what he was doing when he broke his arm.”

  “Sometimes trauma can wipe out immediate memory,” she said slowly. She typed Smart little boy, suspicious break.

  “So you think I’m overreacting?”

  “I think you did exactly as you are supposed to do. You suspect, you report. It’s the law.” There could be no doubt about that. Second-guessing could cost a child’s life. “You don’t have to be right, Mara,” she said, softening her tone more. “You just need to have reasonable suspicion, which you do. You did the right thing here. Thank you.”

  “So...what happens next? Is Mr. Bridges going to know that I called? Because if he is...”

  “Does he frighten you?”

  “He never has before.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m just... I love this kid, you know? We aren’t supposed to have favorites, and I care for all my kids. I don’t play favorites. But this little guy stole my heart the first day he was here.”

  Lacey couldn’t afford to love her kids that way. Couldn’t let emotion cloud her judgment. Though to do her job she did have to care. Be aware. And sensitive...

  “In answer to your question—no, Mr. Bridges will not know, at least not immediately, where the report came from. It could just as easily have come from the hospital.”

  Which was the first call she was going to make, to find out why a report hadn’t been made and if there’d been any other trips to the ER for little Levi.