Celebrating Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Read online

  Celebrating Love

  Saints Protection & Investigations

  Maryann Jordan

  Published by Maryann Jordan, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CELEBRATING LOVE

  First edition. August 25, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 Maryann Jordan.

  ISBN: 978-1947214019

  Written by Maryann Jordan.

  Celebrating Love

  Saints Protection & Investigations

  Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Author Information

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Celebrating Love (Saints Protection & Investigation Series)

  Copyright 2017 Maryann Jordan

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Becky McGraw

  Editor: Shannon Brandee Eversoll

  Cover Photographer: Eric McKinney, 6:12 Photography

  ISBN: 978-1-947214-01-9

  Dedication

  There are times when readers make suggestions to an author about what book they should write. Sometimes it correlates with the author’s ideas and sometimes, the author has to punt the suggestion.

  My readers did not want the Saints’ series to end and I decided that I would like Nick to have a chance to find happiness as a Saint after a frustrating FBI career. One of my readers added a simple sentence in a thread from a FB posting (in my Alpha Fan Group). She said, “I’d like to see Nick with Bayley, Blaise’s sister.”

  Boom! A book pairing was born. One that I had not thought of and probably would have never considered. But it’s perfect.

  So, this dedication is to my readers, who read my books, love my books, talk to me, share with me, and even give me ideas.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice. You two are my inspiration.

  My best friend, Tammie, who for eighteen years has been with me through thick and thin. You’ve filled the role of confidant, supporter, and sister.

  My dear friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader and my Marketing PA, but also my dear friend.

  Chasity Jenkins-Patrick my Marketing guru - I cannot wait to see what we can accomplish together!

  My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise, Sandi, Barbara, Jennifer, Danielle, Shannon, Leeann, Jamila, Tracey, Lynn, and Stracey for being my beta girls who love alphas!

  Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making Love’s Taming as well written as it can be.

  My street team, Jordan Jewels, you all are amazing! You volunteer your time to promote my books and I cannot thank you enough! I hope you will stay with me, because I have lots more stories inside, just waiting to be written!

  My sweet Assistant Barbara Martoncik keeps me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only her assistance, but her friendship.

  Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.

  Author Information

  I am an avid reader of romance novels, often joking that I cut my teeth on the historical romances. I have been reading and reviewing for years. In 2013, I finally gave into the characters in my head, screaming for their story to be told. From these musings, my first novel, Emma’s Home, The Fairfield Series was born.

  I was a high school counselor having worked in education for thirty years. I live in Virginia, having also lived in four states and two foreign countries. I have been married to a wonderfully patient man for thirty-five years. When writing, my dog or one of my four cats can generally be found in the same room if not on my lap.

  Please take the time to leave a review of this book.

  Feel free to contact me, especially if you enjoyed my book. I love to hear from readers!

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  Email

  Website

  1

  The dark room, lit by pink and blue neon strips of light around the bar, the edges of the ceiling, and over the dance floor gave the second-rate nightclub an eerie glow. The music—if you could call it that—pounded out a heavy beat, but it appeared the dancers did not mind the lack of quality. Most appeared drunk, high, or just out to get laid.

  Blinking to keep the room in focus, while hoping his eardrums would not burst, Nick Stone sat at the bar, his back to the corner so he had a perfect view of the whole space. Lifting his glass to his lips, he tossed back the watered-down drink, signaling to the bartender to send another one his way to keep up appearances. Fuckin’ hell…this sucks.

  So far, the only people he had tagged were the two other agents moving through the crowd. Janice, with the rockin’ body—and very married—was dressed to kill and on the arm of the other agent, Tom, looking every bit the couple out for a fun night. And here I am, sitting in the corner, nursing my drink.

  As his gaze roamed the crowded club’s inhabitants, he began to categorize the patrons. There were the women, trying too hard—wearing either heavy make-up, overly tight clothes, or working their plastic surgery—but with a desperation in their mannerisms. High-pitched giggles. Hands on the man buying them a drink. Opting for a coy expression.

  Then there were the older men, standing tall as a woman walked by. Checking out the ones they thought they had a chance with. A few with a white ring of skin around their finger where a wedding band would have been—before they ditched it as they entered
the club.

  And the young men, certain they had all the answers to the world’s problems and on the hunt for an easy lay. As much as Nick gritted his teeth at their actions, he knew they would have no problem finding what they were looking for—a no strings attached night’s pleasure…or just a quick fuck against the back wall.

  Sure, there were some that appeared to be there to have a fun time with friends but, on the whole, Nick was harsh in his jaded judgements having spent years with the FBI. He loved investigating, but the latest director was appointed for political reasons only and had managed to create an atmosphere where the right hand had no idea what the left hand was doing. Missions were failing. Appropriations of funds were not going to the most needed sections. And the idea that they were all working for the same end goal had eroded. The only reason he was here tonight was to assist a team, shorthanded since one of the agents went on paternity leave.

  Terrorists…something on the evening news for people to get jacked-up when something happened, but who had no clue of the thousands of man-hours of investigations to combat the threat living right among them. And with the money the drug cartels were filtering through to terrorists—

  Nick’s sardonic musings came to a complete halt as his gaze settled on a woman sitting at the other end of the bar. Golden-blonde hair, naturally falling down her back in waves and pouty, ruby lips wrapped around a straw as she sucked a fruity drink. Her red dress fit her curves and, while it was hard to see how tall she was from where he was sitting, he could imagine her legs going for miles.

  The whole package captured his attention, but what held his gaze was her eyes. Summer-sky blue. They were clear. Sharp. And definitely taking in the scene. He did not get the feeling that she was on the prowl—more like…studying? It looked as though she was studying the scene laid out before her. He watched her fiddle with her cell phone before she took a few selfies at the bar. Shaking his head, he wondered if she was waiting on someone or stood up by someone, although he could not imagine what fool would stand her up.

  Knowing he needed to be watching the crowd for a possible meeting of one of the cartel members with the terrorist that the team had their eye on, he forced his gaze back over the people crowding the dance floor. Rubbing his hand over his face, he wondered how they could stand the loud music. God, when did I get so old—

  Janice approached the bar, standing next to him as Tom paid their tab. Speaking cautiously, she said, “We’re leaving. It appears our suspects are not making the contact tonight.”

  As he lifted his drink to his lips, he nodded slightly, saying, “I’ll follow shortly.” Watching them walk out using his peripheral vision, he kept his attention on the crowd. The energy flowing from the dance floor left him more tired than when he arrived, the past few sleepless nights making staying awake for a late night stakeout even more difficult. Unfortunately he knew when he left the club his mind would probably continue to work over his cases and sleep would be elusive once more. A sudden movement to his right startled him and he jerked his eyes over as someone began to speak.

  “Hi! I’ve been watching you and I swear, you look like you’d rather be anywhere else but here. Well, maybe not anywhere…I mean, it would have to be somewhere much quieter and maybe brighter. Not too bright…just maybe less neon-ish. Although, neon-ish can be really nice, depending on the colors. If it’s red and green, well, that seems more fitting for a department store at Christmas. Pink and purple are great, but kind of feminine…don’t know how much guys like dancing with baby-doll colors flashing all around. But pink and dark blue gives off a great vibe and since the name of this place is Neon, I guess you just have to go with it, if you’re into that sort of thing which, by the way, you seriously look like you could give a rat’s ass about the vibe of this place.”

  Nick blinked slowly—twice—but the loquacious apparition was still standing next to him. Giving a mental shake, he recognized the gorgeous blonde from the other side of the bar but, for the life of him, he had not noticed when she approached.

  His eyes dropped to her fuck-me heels, up her long, tanned legs, to the way the red dress hugged her hips. Dragging his gaze continually upward, he viewed the tantalizing tops of her breasts peeking out from the dress’ scooped neck. Just a hint of cleavage…not enough to give away the whole package, but enough to make a man want to drop at her feet to slowly peel the dress from her body, revealing the treasure beneath. His gaze finally landed on her face, the blue eyes mesmerizing as they stared back at him. Her red lips were curved in a wide smile as she placed her hand on her hip before throwing her head back in laughter.

  “Good grief, mister,” she said. “You gonna just stare or ask me to have a seat?”

  Startled out of his revery, he stood quickly and offered her a hand up onto a barstool. Even in her heels, her eyes only came to the level of his mouth, surprising him. She had seemed taller while throwing sass his way. The whiff of something fruity—lemony—wafted by as her hair moved over her shoulder. The delicate scent, so understated, was in contrast to the effervescent woman and he leaned in slightly to inhale once more, before sitting back on his stool.

  “Uh…can I buy you a drink?” he offered, uncertain what to say. Not one to hang out in bars, he assumed an offer of a drink was acceptable protocol.

  “Nah, but thanks anyway,” she said, her eyes still pinned on him. Shrugging, she added, “I can tell this is not your thing.”

  “My thing?”

  Waving her hand around, she explained, “You know…being here…in a club. Anyway, it’s not really my thing either.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “I’m here for research. I know I could probably get the same info from a Google search or watching a video on YouTube, but this gives me such a feel for the place. Not that I haven’t been in clubs before, but that was back in college when I was like most students—young and stupid!” Laughing again, she placed her hand on his arm and leaned in close. “But I’ve been watching you. And you’ve been watching the crowd, just like me.”

  Bristling, he refuted, “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here having a drink.”

  Lifting one eyebrow, she tapped her fingernail on the back of his hand. “Uh huh. Yeah, right.” Suddenly, both eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, wait, you probably think I’m going to blow your cover or something.” Leaning in again, she said, “Don’t worry about that. You look much more natural sitting here with a woman than you did by yourself pretending to drink.”

  Nick stared at the beauty, uncertain if she were sincerely smart or a talkative goof or both. Clearing his throat, he repeated, “I appreciate your company, but I’m afraid you have me pegged wrong.”

  “Hmmm, I wonder,” she smiled. “Well, anyway, it’s nice to have someone to talk to besides the bartender. Who, by the way, seems to be shooting glares at me since I moved from his section.” Laughing again, she said, “He never had a chance, poor guy.” Turning her full attention back on him, she said, “Like I said, I haven’t been in a club in ages, so this is research for me.”

  Unable to keep up with her conversation bouncing from topic to topic, he simply asked, “Research?”

  “I’m a writer.” Scrunching her nose, she corrected, “Well, a part-time writer. It’s really hard to break into making serious money as a full-time writer, but I’m working on it.”

  “Writer?”

  She stared at him a moment, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Yeah, you know…I sit down at a computer and type words onto paper that all come together to make a story?” she replied with a glint in her eyes. “But are you just going to parrot what I say? If so, that’s a boring conversation.”

  Her silky hair swayed, capturing his gaze, as her laughter filled his ears once more. He opened his mouth to tell her he knew what a writer was, but she did not give him a chance.

  “But, alas, I still write on the side while working in a bookstore. A bookstore that keeps me busy.” She threw her hands to the side and expounded, “Well, bookstore, coff
ee shop, and writing extravaganza!” Her expression suddenly serious, she leaned in closer again, her eyes pinned on him, “But let’s talk about you. Catching any bad guys tonight?”

  Feeling the heat of a blush rising to his cheeks, Nick grimaced. “Miss, I’m afraid your imagination has run wild. I’m simply here to enjoy my drink.” Feeling like he was melting under her stare, he continued, “But since my drink is almost finished, I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  A brilliant smile erupted on her face as her eyes landed on his mostly-full glass. “Finished? If you say so but, please, don’t leave on my account.” She twirled around on her barstool and stared out over the crowd. “What I was looking for tonight was the chance to see people interact, pick-up lines, dancing, even the way people dressed. To quote my dear Agatha Christie, ‘Curious things, habits. People themselves never knew they had them.’ I love Agatha, don’t you?” she asked, her smile wide.

  Nick blinked again, unable to produce an instinctive response to her question but, before he could ponder her rapid-fire train of thought further, she continued.

  “Now, take that woman over there. Hot body, but the faint lines around her eyes tell me she has a bit of age on her and, yet, her boobs are really sitting up high. So, boob job. Unless, of course, she’s got a really amazing bra but, I gotta tell you, I’ve never seen any bra that could hold up ta-tas that size, that high!” Throwing her hands up, she quickly continued, “Hey, no judgement here. Just an observation. And that man over there at the edge of the dance floor? He sucks his stomach in every time a woman walks by.” Giggling, she added, “That’s like doing an ab-crunch every minute or so. He’s gonna be sore tomorrow!”