The Way Home (Chasing #3) Read Online Free Page A

met mine before frantically darting away to search around the room. It was obvious she was looking for someone else, and there was no disguising the terror that had been reflected in her expression. Before I could even manage to speak, she let out an earsplitting scream.
    “Mommy!” she screeched loudly, making me cringe.
    Damn, it was too early in the morning for this shit! The kid had a set of lungs. I really should have thought twice about drinking that half a bottle of Jack last night.
    A stunning blonde appeared from the back. She scurried around the corner of the bar. Holy Hell! What a looker! When she spotted me, her steps faltered. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the little girl dart around the table. She ran straight for the woman. Shit, the way they were behaving made me feel just like Jack the Ripper.
    You’d think by now I’d be used to people’s reactions to my size and the ugly scar slicing my left eyebrow. I was a big man. My looks could be intimidating at first, and now, thanks to the vindictive legacy left in the wake of Myra Hayes, people tended to avoid me.
    “Can I help you?” the woman asked, her tone firm and still somewhat pleasant even though it was obvious I scared them both. There was something about her. Something about the sound of her voice that unconsciously drew me in, or maybe it could have been the sight of her with the child. I shook my head, feeling rattled; the question she’d asked had still not fully registered as I noted her hand resting protectively atop the little girl’s head.
    When I finally met her gaze, eyes the exact same shade as the child’s were focused steadily on me. Even though her expression appeared relatively calm, the tense way in which she held her petite frame gave away her unease. She reminded me of a frightened doe protecting her fawn. If I said boo, I’d almost bet they’d scatter.
    The woman tugged the child behind her, mistaking my silence for something else, and began edging toward the bar. Fucking hell, I wasn’t going to hurt them. I held my hands up in front of me. This shit was getting out of control… and fast. It was obvious, they felt threatened. I hadn’t meant to scare them.
    “I’m the new owner of The Eight Ball. Nate Lucas.” I announced hoping to put them at ease.
    The way the blonde studied me was slightly unnerving, and I allowed myself the same courtesy, leisurely assessing her features. She was an eyeful. If I didn’t get a grip soon, and if she looked any lower than my chest, I’d end up embarrassing us both. A couple years ago, I’d come back into the area on business and had met a woman. Lilah had approached me in a bar. She was a widow and lonely. She took care of my needs. We had a mutual agreement, whenever I was close by, we would hook up. She lived far enough away from Crawley to never become a problem. In some ways, Lilah was like me. There was no danger in her becoming attached. Upon returning to the area, I’d given her a call. We were both more than happy to resume right where we’d left off. She knew the score. None of that hearts and flowers bullshit… ever. I wasn’t that kind of guy… never again. She was convenient and still single. I wasn’t a fucking saint. There was no need in pretending otherwise.
    Hell, I had needs; needs that didn’t involve my heart. Fucking was as natural as breathing. It wasn’t complicated. No pretenses or pressure when all either one of us wanted to do was get sweaty and naked. It was all about convenience… the urge and relief to let go… to forget, if only for a moment. I didn’t do relationships… not anymore, and the instant attraction coursing through my body at this very moment was setting my blood on fire. I’d only felt that intensity with one other woman, and she was dead.
    This lady had trouble written all over her in bold capital letters. It was impossible to miss. From the top of her pretty strawberry blonde head to the dainty tips of her pink toenails