Page 146 of Out on a Limb
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Thank you so much for reading Out on a Limb!
I hope you loved Andrew as much as I do. He’s loosely based on someone near and dear to my heart.
It’s my husband, but don’t tell him.
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Looking for something to read until then?
If you like the suspense you found in Sweet Side, then you might enjoy my Alaskan Security series. I write it as Jemma Westbrook, and it’s filled with hunky heroes and a girl gang you’ll want to be a part of.
Get your copy of Loss Recovery, book one in the Alaskan Security-Team Rogue series, here.
Or, turn the page to check out chapter one…
“YOU READY TO be back in the cold?”
Wade turned his attention from the small airplane window to where his closest friend sat beside him. “Not everyone likes Florida as much as your crazy ass does.”
He and Brock just spent the past four weeks on the Gulf coast, making sure the daughter of a smuggler didn’t end up paying the ultimate price for what her father chose to do with his free time.
It was four weeks too long.
Brock leaned back in his leather seat on Alaskan Security's smallest jet, lifting one shoulder as he took a sip of his beer. “My love of Florida has nothing to do with the weather, though.” He shot Wade a grin. “You don’t get to see near as much skin in Alaska.” He started to tip his beer back again but stopped, eyes focusing on Wade. “Not that you took advantage of it.”
Wade glared long and hard at Brock before turning back to look out at the snow-covered landscape getting closer with each passing second. “Not everyone is as driven by their dick as you are.”
Brock scoffed in mock offense. “You wound me.”
Wade didn’t bother responding. Brock meant well. His friend had tried everything to get him out of this funk for almost two years.
That meant two years of Brock showing up at their hotel rooms with women. Two years of him dragging Wade to every bar they passed. Hell, at one point Brock even made him a fake Tinder account trying to get him to hook up with someone.
Wade wasn’t interested in any of it.
“You look over the file yet?” Thankfully, Brock must have realized it was time to move the conversation along.
It was why they were still friends. Brock knew to push just far enough, and then back off before Wade had to be a dick.
“No.” He barely glanced at the manila envelope as it fell into his lap. It didn’t really matter what was inside. Who he was protecting. This job no longer held the excitement it once did.
The shine had worn off. Wiped away by the knowledge of what it stole from him.
What he could never have because of it.
“You should probably at least read it over before we get there. Might give the wrong impression if you don’t know what the fuck’s going on.” Brock’s tone was sharper now, showing his growing irritation with the perpetual bad mood Wade always wore. “Might make this woman doubt your ability to protect her if you don’t know who the fuck you’re supposed to be keeping away.”
Wade snatched the file. “It’s not fucking rocket science.” He flipped open the file, pausing as Brock’s words sank in. “Her?” He scanned the top sheet of information. “I thought it was a man.” He found the name he remembered. “Roger Hines.”
“That’s who hired us, but it was to protect his daughter.” Brock ran a finger down the page until it rested just below another name. “Bessie Hines.”
