The Shooting by Chris Taylor Read Free Book Online

about the job that he just didn’t feel like talking about.
    He stumbled into the hall that led toward the other rooms in the house and continued in search of his host. He wondered again at the angel he’d spied at the front door. Frowning, he entered the kitchen.
    The full-throated sound of a woman’s laughter stirred something totally foreign and unexpected in his gut. He peered over the heads of a few partygoers that filled the modest space and headed in the direction of the sound. She was surrounded by male officers, all of them hanging off her every word. He couldn’t decipher her words, but it was obvious the men were enthralled—or maybe they were just enthralled with her . He could well understand their fascination.
    He pushed his way through the crowd until he’d joined the group that surrounded her. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, her eyes sparkling with good humor. Up close, she was even more beautiful. And young. She barely looked older than his twin brothers and Clayton and Riley were only seventeen.
    He narrowed his gaze and wondered who she was and what she was doing with such a dissolute group. Perhaps she was Charlie’s sister or the relative of one of the other guests? Or perhaps she was someone’s girlfriend? She’d arrived in the company of a man, after all.
    His mind shied away from the thought, not wanting to consider the possibility. He found a position with a clear view of her and leaned back against the wall.
    He let out a quiet sigh. It was late. He was tired. He’d had a shit of a day. A day he was glad to put behind him. Closing his eyes, he let the music of her voice wash over him.
    * * *
    Lily Strickland looked up from the group of men who surrounded her and noticed the good-looking stranger saunter near. She’d noticed him earlier, when she’d first arrived with David, but she hadn’t had a chance to enquire about him. Now he was standing less than three yards away and her heart skipped a beat.
    Aware of the men around her eagerly waiting for her to finish her story, she took a breath and forced herself to concentrate. From the corner of her eye, she saw the tall stranger get comfortable against the wall. A moment later, he closed his eyes and appeared to drift off to sleep. Right beneath her nose.
    She frowned in consternation. She wasn’t used to being ignored. Surely, he wasn’t really asleep?
    And then she heard it. A snore. Soft and muffled and utterly gentlemanlike, but a snore just the same. She halted mid-sentence and stared at him, completely taken aback. He looked like a Greek God, an Adonis with his dark blond hair, thick and mussed. A sun-bleached hank of it hung over his forehead and partially obscured his eyes—eyes, she recalled from moments ago, that were as blue as the summer sky.
    She’d lost herself in their depths for the few seconds he’d stared at her and her breath had caught from their impact. And then he’d frowned and squinted, as if trying to bring her into focus and the moment had been lost. But not the memory.
    Never in her nineteen years had a man stirred her like he had and they hadn’t even exchanged so much as a greeting. How could that be possible? This wasn’t a Hollywood chick flick where the girl saw the guy and the cameras slowed and the music built and the girl fell instantly and deeply in love. That kind of idiocy only happened in the movies, not in real life. Never in real life.
    And yet, she couldn’t deny that he’d triggered something way down deep inside her and she yearned to know more about the handsome stranger who’d captured her attention like no other. Except now, the man in question was snoring.
    It would be a little damaging to any girl’s ego and she had to admit, she was slightly miffed. While the men around her hung on her every word, the only one that interested her was sleeping in the corner. She smiled wryly, in good humor. The scenario was more than a little bit comical.
    Vowing to forget about him