Zane Crew, former SEAL, current security genius, and forever loner has reached his breaking point where his sister, Chloe, is concerned. Finished with her bad decisions, he’s sworn off cleaning up her messes for good, until danger chases her right onto his doorstep, his niece and nephew in tow. Before he could reach her, her assailants whisk her away, leaving him with two terrified children to care for and a trail rapidly running cold.
Kinsley Scott, a former foster child, always envisioned a career helping those who couldn’t help themselves and what better way than with the Department of Children and Families. Only, after a few short years on the job, disenchantment and mountains of paperwork weigh her down in a career that leaves little time to get hands on with the people she meets. When her heart gets in the way of her judgment and kids go missing, she’s thrust into a frantic rush to find them.
Forced to form an alliance, Zane and Kinsley clash at every turn even as the two children caught in the crossfire bring them together in a tangle of old hurts, regrets, and whispered admissions. Can they both forgive themselves for their mistakes and work together in time to bring Chloe home before it’s too late?
You’re in it now, girl.
Kinsley didn’t kid herself. She knew the only reason she made it through the door was Zane’s neighbor, Grace.
Grace, she liked.
Zane, well, that was a whole other matter. In just two short exchanges, he’d skyrocketed to the top of the list of the most stubborn souls she’d met in her twenty-five years.
Too bad every time he stuck out that stubborn chin of his and took on that brooding, sullen stance, he also rocketed himself to the top of the sexy beast list, too.
“Where are Tyler and Brielle?”
His lip curled, and a low rumble slipped from his throat.
“Did you just growl at me?” she asked.
“No,” he said, turning his back to her and heading down a wide hall leading back to the white and stainless-steel and marble kitchen that, that from a glimpse, looked worthy of a magazine spread.
“Yes, you did,” she said, reaching out and snagging the edge of his shirt, yanking it just a bit out of his pants.
Sizable feet skidded to a stop. He looked over his shoulder and glanced down at the hand she still had on him.
“You can act like a junkyard dog all you want. You’ll get no such warning from me. I don’t growl; I bite.” She pushed past him and spotted the kids around the corner in a den off the dining room. Tyler sat on the corner of the sofa, his eyes locked on the doorjamb, Brielle snuggled in his arms.