Something's Gotta Give. Teresa Southwick

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      This is your chance to find the right one for that “honey do” list.

      Could you use a weekend warrior? Ex-Army Ranger Riley Dixon is the guy for you. He’s donating a survival weekend guaranteed to get your heart rate up.

      What about that home repair you’ve been putting off? Dashing Des O’Donnell, former Charity City High football hero, now owner and president of his own construction company, is offering a repair of your choice.

      Personal security issues? Defend your honor? Savvy Sam Brimstone, recently of the LAPD and a hotshot detective, is your man.

      These are just a sampling of the jaw-dropping guys available to the highest bidder. Ladies, don’t miss the chance to buy a guy—no strings attached.

      Cash, check, credit and debit cards gratefully accepted by the Charity City Philanthropic Foundation.

      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

      Epilogue

      Chapter One

      If anyone had told him he’d wind up on the wrong side of the law, Sam Brimstone would’ve said they’d taken one too many shots to the head.

      But here he was looking up at the beefy, balding judge who stared right back at him from the bench. “Samuel Owen Brimstone, the charge against you is one count of assault and battery. How do you plead?”

      There was the sixty-four-million-dollar question. Once upon a time Sam had been a decorated detective with a big-city police department, working for law and order. Now the law in Charity City, Texas had its sights locked and loaded on him. That’s what he got for butting into something that was none of his business. He’d be back on the highway doing seventy-five miles an hour to nowhere if he hadn’t decked a bozo hustling a hardworking bar-and-grill waitress.

      Where the gray area came in was that Sam knew he’d been spoiling for a fight, and the bozo had obliged by giving him motive and opportunity.

      “Mr. Brimstone, the court doesn’t have all day. Did you, or did you not, start an altercation last night at the Lone Star Bar and Grill?”

      “Depends on your definition of altercation.”

      “Can I take that as a yes?”

      “Yes, what?” Sam asked.

      “Yes you threw the first punch.”

      “You can.”

      “Can what?” the judge asked, barely controlling his exasperation.

      Sam smiled. Small consolation that his initials spelled SOB and he was living up to them. A man had to take comfort wherever he could. “I threw the first punch, Your Honor.”

      “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

      “He had it coming.”

      “Anything else?”

      “No.”

      “So you’re pleading guilty?”

      Sam was guilty of more than assault and battery. It was the reason he’d left the LAPD. A woman had died because of him. The law didn’t hold him accountable, but his conscience was something else. So he’d take responsibility for hitting a guy who deserved it. Besides, he didn’t have any priors. Probably he’d get off with a warning and a lecture about anger management, then be on his way.

      “Yes.” He noted the judge’s raised eyebrow and decided not to push it. “I’m pleading guilty.”

      “Okay, son. I’m sentencing you to thirty days community service.”

      “Thirty days!” What the hell was going on? He’d already spent the night in jail for doing the wrong thing, right reason. “That seems excessive,” he said, suddenly developing an anger-management problem. “I’m just passing through town. Anywhere else, these charges would be dismissed with time served.”

      “This isn’t anywhere else. It’s Charity City.” He glared down from the bench. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

      “No, sir. I’m between jobs.”

      “Is there a financial hardship putting yourself up in town? If so, the county would be happy to arrange accommodations,” the judge said pointedly.

      “Thanks, anyway, but I’ve sampled cell block hospitality. I can afford a room.”

      He was pretty well off, thanks to all work, no play, a side job doing private СКАЧАТЬ