Candidate For Love Read online

  Candidate for Love

  Book 2 of the

  Classic Romance Collection

  Lita Lawson

  Candidate for Love

  Copyright © 2015 Lita Lawson

  ISBN-10: 0000000000

  ISBN-13: 000-0000000000

  Edited and Formatted by

  Pam Berehulke

  Bulletproof Editing

  Cover design by

  Rachel Conner

  Stock Photo by

  Jimmy Thompson

  Romance Novel Covers (RNC)

  Kindle Edition

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  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Note

  Also by Lita Lawson

  About the Author

  Connect with the Author

  To Kaye T.

  Did you ever think reading romances on our lunch hour would lead to this?

  Chapter 1

  “What do you mean, you hired someone to protect us?”

  Christine Yeager shut her eyes, clutching the phone tightly as she tamped down the urge to scream at her ex-husband. She tried to remain calm, not wanting to rock the boat while their divorce was being finalized.

  At this moment, she hated Tad more than ever. Even more than the day she’d walked in and found him astride his legislative aide in his DC office. Christine had gone there, wanting to pay him a surprise visit for their anniversary.

  Some surprise.

  And yeah. That had been their last anniversary.

  “We’ve received some threats at the office,” Tad said, oblivious to her distress. “I don’t know whether it’s anything to be too concerned about, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  Christine paced in frustration. Not only had Tad been a lousy husband, he was turning out to be a lousy father as well. She knew his schedule as a United States senator kept him in DC most of the time, but when he was in his home office here in Charleston, West Virginia, he still couldn’t seem to find time to spend with his son other than to drag Sammy to press conferences with him.

  Even when they were still together, Tad had tried to keep up the image of a family man when it was far from the truth. For a man who was fighting tooth and nail for custody, his time spent with Sammy was far from quality.

  Sighing, she said, “All that matters right now is getting Sammy past this divorce as unaffected as possible.” His grades had slipped at the end of last year, and Christine had been worried enough to take her son to a psychologist to be sure he was handling everything okay.

  In addition to the divorce, it didn’t help that she was running for mayor. Her family, longtime pillars of the community and very politically active, couldn’t fathom why Christine was reluctant to step into the political arena. Bowing to pressure from her family and the local conservative party, she had caved, always trying to remain the good girl she was raised to be. So now even she wasn’t as available to Sammy as much as she would like to be.

  Finances were tighter now since her separation from Tad, which was one reason she was staying in the mayor’s race. She was living in her grandmother’s house she had inherited, and didn’t want to have to accept any money from Tad or her parents.

  “Really?” she said. “And how am I going to explain someone hanging around to Sammy?”

  “You’ll think of something. Besides, he’s someone we went to high school with.”

  Curious, Christine asked, “What’s his name?”

  “He’ll be stopping by shortly,” Tad said, his voice muffled as he shifted the phone. “You’ll recognize him.”

  “Tad, just tell me his name.” Voices became louder in the background, and she knew her ex-husband’s attention was slipping from her. “Tad!”

  “Sorry, gotta go. Session’s starting up again.” A dial tone in her ear signaled the end of the conversation.

  She tried to keep the frustration from ruining her day. Swiping a tear from her eye before it rolled down her cheek, she put her cell phone on the kitchen counter. Sammy would be home soon from his youth football league practice, and she had to keep her composure for her son’s sake. Right now, she was the only stable element in his life.

  She slipped the cell phone into the pocket of her cutoffs and pulled out the ingredients for an after-school snack for Sammy, who would be home soon.

  When a knock sounded on the door as she was finishing up, she padded in her bare feet through the living room to see who it was. A large, dark figure was silhouetted through the screen door, but she couldn’t make out who it might be. Maybe it was the security guy Tad had hired.

  Standing back a few feet from the door, she asked through the screen, “Hello, can I help you?”

  The man smiled. “Hi. I’m JT. I understand your husband, Tad, has told you that he’s hired me to provide security for you and your son.”

  The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it until the stranger took off his dark glasses. She looked into those friendly eyes and knew she’d seen them before. He was the boy from high school who had rescued her from thugs so many years ago while she’d waited for Tad to pick her up from cheerleading practice.

  A funny feeling coursed through her. She didn’t remember much about how JT had looked as a teenager, but he was definitely a man now. His long, dark brown hair was pulled back, and stubble shaded his strong jaw. His face was deeply tanned, and a dimple dotted his chin. His lips parted as a slow smile worked its way across his face, the white teeth accentuating his tan. Dazzling.

  JT was an unexpected blast from her past. She didn’t remember much about him other than he rode a motorcycle in high school and hung out with a different crowd than she and Tad did. With him standing before her now, years later, she wished someone like her could attract a man like JT. He made her wish she had broken more rules, worn her skirts a little shorter, and dared to leave one extra blouse button undone.

  Gathering her thoughts, she answered his question. “I just got off the phone with Tad. And ex. He’s soon to be my ex-husband.” She wasn’t sure why she had blurted that out. “I’m still unclear as to why he feels we need security.”

  JT shrugged. “He told me he had some th
reats, and whether they’re real or not, he just wants to make sure you and your son have nothing to worry about.”

  She opened the screen door. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk?”

  “Sure.”

  The man stepped inside and followed her, and even in her Victorian home with ten-foot ceilings, he seemed to tower in the doorway.

  “Mom, I’m home!”

  Christine turned with a big smile on her face as her son, Sammy, ran into the house right behind them. “Hi, sweetie.” She braced herself as her son threw himself against her and hugged her. He was the spitting image of his father, except he had her fair complexion and blond hair. “Did you have a good day at school?”

  Sammy nodded and said, “Hey, who’s your friend?” He leaned his head back to give JT a curious glance.

  “This is JT. JT, this is my son, Sammy.” Christine mussed her son’s hair, making him scowl at her affections as he tended to do lately. Apparently it was okay for him to hug her, but she was expected to play it cool. Boys, she thought wryly as she smiled to herself.

  “Nice to meet you.” JT leaned forward and shook the boy’s hand.

  “I’m hungry, Mom.” Smiling up at JT, Sammy asked, “Can he have a snack with us?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “That’s very thoughtful. Head out to the front porch and I’ll be out in a jiff.”

  Groaning inwardly, Christine wished she was wearing something besides her too-short shorts and her too-tight T-shirt as she returned from the kitchen with the snacks a moment later. She felt totally exposed in front of company dressed this way. She popped the screen door open with her hip and carried the tray of refreshments out to the porch, where she set it down on the glass-topped table.

  They settled into the white wicker furniture, Sammy next to her and JT across from them, dwarfing one of the chairs that creaked a little under his weight.

  While JT glanced around, taking in the house and yard, Christine studied him from beneath lowered eyelashes as she poured him a glass of lemonade. He’d definitely filled out compared to the teenager she remembered; he had been leaner in high school.

  Now that she looked closer, she remembered the angular features of his face. New lines from the sun were evident around his eyes, and a small scar jutted above his eyebrow. The additions added character and in no way detracted from his dark good looks. Judging by the way he filled out his jacket, he’d done some bodybuilding.

  Christine’s pulse was in her throat, beating a samba rhythm as she noted the tight black jeans that emphasized his large, well-muscled thighs. Normally a man dressed all in black and wearing leather like JT might intimidate her, but just looking into his friendly golden-brown eyes reassured her there was nothing to fear.

  If her neighbors walked by and saw the stranger on her porch, however, gossip would be inevitable. The hanging pots of ferns and petunias wouldn’t be enough to hide JT on her porch. Between getting divorced and running for mayor, she didn’t need to add any fuel to those fires. Not to mention the last thing she needed or wanted was a man in her life.

  “Would you like me to hang up your coat?” Christine offered her guest. But when he took it off, she immediately regretted her suggestion. A short-sleeved black T-shirt revealed sculpted muscles and a large tattoo.

  “Cool,” Sammy blurted at the sight of the dark etchings.

  Christine was grateful for her child carrying the conversation. She didn’t think she was capable of speech, as her mouth had suddenly gone dry. She was sure JT had something to do with that, not just the warm autumn afternoon.

  “Can I look closer?” Sammy asked, his face scrunched up with his pleading.

  “Sammy . . .” Embarrassed, she gave her curious son a small frown.

  “Sure.” JT’s voice was low and deep.

  Watching as her son stared at the wings of an eagle on JT’s hard bicep, Christine poured herself lemonade and downed half of it. The tartness nearly caused her eyes to water.

  She admired JT’s patience with her son as the boy asked fifty questions about the tattoo. Hopefully Sammy wouldn’t start begging for one.

  “Is that your motorcycle out front?” Sammy asked, continuing to pepper JT with questions.

  “Sure is.”

  “Oh.” She remembered when she had sat on the back of JT’s motorcycle years ago when he almost gave her that ride home. Trying not to wonder how her life would have turned out if she had, she returned her thoughts to the present.

  “Cool. Can I have a ride?”

  Christine frowned. “Sammy, that’s not polite.”

  “But, Mom, I’ve never ridden one before. We don’t know anybody who has one.”

  “I don’t know, Sammy. Motorcycles can be dangerous.” She watched as the bottom lip of her son stuck out in pouting mode. Not wanting to disappoint him, she relented. “JT is probably busy and might not have time to take you for a ride.”

  “I think I can swing it,” JT said and then added, “I just got back into town, so my schedule’s flexible right now.”

  Christine couldn’t imagine him shadowing her and Sammy around. What was Tad thinking? It meant she’d be seeing JT and his seductive, bad-boy good looks often.

  Sammy seemed to have taken a liking to JT, so that was good. She decided to agree to the ride and play things by ear. Her son’s attention span was usually pretty short, and once he had the desired bike ride out of his system, he would probably lose interest.

  “All right.” Christine wiped the sweat from her glass of lemonade. “Just stop by whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “Will do.”

  Christine watched JT finish his drink and unfold his long legs to stand up. Her gaze fell on his tattoo, and she had a sudden irresistible urge to trace it with her finger like her son had, curious about what his skin felt like and how hard his bicep was. But that was crazy. She didn’t have time to be involved, even if he was interested in her.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Christine.”

  JT’s voice interrupted her musings. She liked the way her name sounded when he said it. Wrapping her arms around herself, Christine followed him to the porch steps.

  Once out of Sammy’s earshot, she said in a low voice, “So Tad hired you to protect us?” She looked up into his eyes, which was a mistake. A shiver snaked through her body. She shifted her gaze to her son and then out to the street. “Do you think we need to be worried?”

  “At this point, no. But Tad hired me to see if anyone strange is hanging around.”

  “Do you make a habit of rescuing people?” she asked, recalling when JT had rescued her so long ago.

  “Well, it’s my business,” he said with a grin. “I’ve been protecting people for years now.”

  “Are you going to be hanging around 24/7? I don’t know what to expect. Tad sprang this on me just before you got here, and he really didn’t elaborate on what you’d do.”

  “I’ll make a perimeter check of your house, the block you live on, get a feel for what cars and people belong here. You won’t notice me much.”

  “Well, thanks, I guess. Hold on.” She stepped back inside a moment and handed him his jacket. “You don’t need to feel obligated to take my son for a ride, you know.”

  “I’d be happy to. I always keep my promises.”

  Slinging the leather jacket over his shoulder, he turned. When he walked down the wooden porch steps and onto the sidewalk, directly into the path of Sadie, her nosiest neighbor, Christine groaned inwardly.

  Sadie nodded at JT, her gray curls bouncing, and paused to aim a curious gaze at her. “Nice day, today, isn’t it, Christine?”

  Christine gave her a halfhearted wave from the porch. “Sure is.”

  “I see you had company.”

  She kept her smile fixed on her face. “He’s a former classmate who stopped in to say hi.”

  Sadie nodded knowingly and kept on walking to her red brick Victorian house next door.

  “Great,” Christine muttered to he
rself. “This is as good as having it in the paper tomorrow.” The last thing she needed was another complication in her life.

  Taking the dishes to the kitchen, she shook off the sudden urge to press the rim of JT’s glass to her lips.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, the sound of her son bounding down the stairs made Christine smile. She hadn’t heard him that energized in a while. The realization that JT might be the cause of Sammy’s newfound enthusiasm made her smile fade. After sliding the eggs onto two plates, she put them on the table.

  “Yuck!” Sammy wrinkled his nose.

  “But you always love my eggs.”

  “Eggs are for sissies,” he proclaimed emphatically.

  Biting back a smile, she asked, “Since when?”

  “Since I’m a big boy who can take care of himself.”

  The wide grin on his face kept Christine from lecturing him on his new self-assuredness. Anything that made him smile these days was okay by her.

  “Then what do big boys eat for breakfast?” She couldn’t wait to hear the reply. It ought to be good.

  “I need pancakes with lots of syrup. And then I need some coffee to wash it down.”

  When Sammy placed both his hands behind his head, she could barely keep from laughing at his exaggerated posturing.

  “Well,” she said in a bartering tone, “I have to go to campaign headquarters, so I don’t have time to fix that for you this morning. But I tell you what. You eat these today, and I’ll fix you pancakes tomorrow since it’s Saturday.”

  Glancing discreetly at Sammy, she saw his face change as he pondered this question. “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Ruffling his hair, Christine laughed as her son swatted at her for doing such a “sissy” thing.

  “So, you’re grown up now?”

  Sammy pushed his eggs around on his plate. “I want to be cool like JT, and be his friend.”

  “Oh. You know, you might be a little young to be his friend.”

  “I think we are since he said he’d be back to take me for a ride on his motorcycle.”