The Men With the Golden Cuffs(115)
Not what he’d wanted to hear, but at least Liam was thorough. Adam slid a look Sean’s way. “And you’re letting Grace come?”
“She wouldn’t miss it. She loves Amber Rose. She thinks those books brought us together. I would say they probably helped.” Sean sighed and opened his coat, showing off a shiny SIG Sauer. “I’m coming out of retirement for the day. This woman means a lot to my wife. I won’t let some shitbag hurt her. And I think she means something to my friends.”
Jake nodded somberly. “She does. She means the world to us. We just have to convince her of it.”
“I think Grace might be helping out with that even as we speak,” Sean replied.
Liam let his head hit the bar. “You’re back on feelings again. Can someone shoot me?”
Adam laughed. This was way better than shooting Liam. Torture. The Irishman deserved it. Well, just a little. He looked at Sean Taggart, his commanding officer in the Army, his friend and mentor, the man who seemed to be forgiving him. “Thanks for coming along, Sean. We would love to have the help.”
“Feelings make me vomit.” Liam’s head came up. “Do we have time for a beer?”
“No drinking before work,” Jake announced.
Liam frowned. “But I’m on e-mail duty. I get to sit here and read four hundred and fifty of Doyle Brooks’ boring rants against undergrads and all the people who don’t appreciate his genius. God, just let me kill the pretentious fucker.”
They had been going through every bit of information Adam had managed to hack from Professor Brooks’ computers and the computers from the Anderson Agency. They had all been taking turns going through them and all the information they had been able to find out on the two detectives.
Jake shook his head. “No beer. No killing Brooks until we get some shit on him. Now, let’s get ready. We leave in twenty minutes.”
Adam was going to count the minutes until they could snuggle down beside Serena, and she would be safe and sound again.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Grace Taggart asked.
Serena had to smile as she took the books from Grace. She might be a little jealous of the lovely woman since it seemed Adam had previously had a thing for her, but she was so sweet it was impossible to hate Grace. And she was a fan. That made up for a lot of ill will in Serena’s mind. They were all there. All the Texas Sweetheart books and Three Riders, One Love and the rest of that series. Yes, Grace Taggart was definitely a fan.
“Most people just buy the e-books,” Serena said, sitting down on the couch as Grace handed her a pen. She opened the first book. Small Town Sweetheart. She’d labored over that book. She’d put so much of herself into it.
“I got through many lonely nights because of those books. I guess I would really like to thank you for that.”
Tears pricked at Serena’s eyes, and she had to fight to maintain a modicum of professionalism. She hadn’t started writing thinking she would find people like Grace. She’d started writing because it filled a void in her life. It was one of the universe’s great miracles that her work had managed to fill the void in someone else’s life. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
“So you can’t let some jerk scare you out of writing.”
She signed her name with a flourish. Well, she signed her fake name with a flourish. Sometimes she wondered who was more real—Serena Brooks or Amber Rose? Last night, Serena had been the real one. Serena had been the one locked in Jake’s and Adam’s arms. “I won’t. I’m not even going to let him scare me out of going to the signing.”
Grace smiled and then took a long breath. “And you also shouldn’t let some jerk scare you out of having a great life with two amazing men.”
The conversation had taken a turn for the deeply personal. It seemed her men liked to talk. “Well, I guess you know Adam, Jake, and I have been having a little fun.”
“No. I know Adam and Jake are falling in love with you.”
What the hell was she supposed to say to that? “I wouldn’t say it’s that serious. We haven’t talked anything long term. It’s just a little fling.”
The sympathy that hit Grace Taggart’s hazel eyes made Serena want to flinch. “Oh, sweetie, some man did a number on you, didn’t he? You’re divorced?”
“Happily,” she forced herself to say. She hadn’t really loved Doyle. She’d thought she was in love, but she’d been too young.
“Honey, no one is happy to get divorced. Not really. The marriage might have been hell, but almost everyone mourns at least the loss of the possibility it represented.”