Deep Secrets
Agent Rafe Roper has come back from the dead to protect the only woman he's ever lovedFate brought Rafe Roper into Trish Wright’s café one stormy night. Unfortunately, their storybook romance ended far too soon when an accident took Rafe’s life – and broke Trish's heart. But what his wife doesn't know–can't know–is Rafe "died" in order to protect her from the criminals he’s pursuing. But taking down these particularly nasty terrorists goes from undercover mission to personal vendetta once Trish's life is put on the line. Now that his innocent bride is caught in the crosshairs, Rafe has no choice but to expose his lie and hope she forgives him. Otherwise, without her trust, they'll both wind up dead. This time for real.
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And for just a minute, he allowed himself to wonder—if things had gone differently, would he and Trish have had a son? With red hair and big blue eyes?
Trish had wanted a child. Once she’d finally made the decision to get married, she’d jumped in with both feet.
When he’d had to leave, had been forced to disappear, he sweated out the first couple months, until he was sure that he hadn’t left her pregnant. He still wouldn’t have been able to go back, but he’d have figured out some way to ensure that his child was well taken care of. Just like he’d figured out ways to ensure that Trish was safe, protected.
He’d done a good job.
But now something had gone wrong and Trish was paying the price.
BEVERLY LONG enjoys the opportunity to write her own stories. She has both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in business and more than twenty years of experience as a human resources director. She considers her books to be a great success if they compel the reader to stay up way past their bedtime. Beverly loves to hear from readers. Visit www.beverlylong.com, or like her at Facebook.com/beverlylong.romance.
For Kathy and Randy and their family, who have made us feel very welcome in Missouri.
Contents
Trish Wright-Roper stuck the fork tines through the paper napkin, ruining it. Normally, she didn’t mind rolling silverware. It was a mindless activity, really. But on a day like today, when her brain was too busy remembering, it was irritating her beyond reason.
She could hear Milo finishing up in the kitchen. Earlier he’d dropped a steam table pan onto the tile floor and the clang had echoed through the empty café. She’d gone back to investigate and he’d been staring at the pan, his face flushed with anger.
Not at himself. Not at the pan. Not even at her.
For her. Because everyone who knew Trish well knew that four years ago today, Rafe Roper had died and her heart had been broken. And everybody who cared about her, which definitely included Milo, was on edge. No one would admit it, though. Instead, they’d practically turn somersaults to get her to think of something else.
Milo was no different. “What do you say you and me catch a movie in Hamerton tonight?” he asked, coming out of the kitchen. The man’s hair was pulled back from his face in a tight ponytail and it hung practically to the middle of his back. He was an ex-con who’d applied for work just weeks after Rafe’s death. He’d been a lifesaver because she’d been in no shape to work, to hold up her share of the responsibilities.
“You hate movies,” she said. “You think it’s ridiculous to pay ten dollars to see something that you’ll be able to see for nothing in just a couple of months.”
“Yeah, but there’s this one I’ve really been wanting to watch.”
She shook her head. “No, there isn’t. You know that Summer and I usually watch some silly romantic comedy today and you also know that she’s not due back from her honeymoon until tomorrow. You’re filling in.”
He drummed his thumb on the counter, a sure sign that he was frustrated. “She hated that she was going to be gone. I promised her that I had this.”
When her twin sister, Summer, had married handsome Bray Hollister, the love of her life, several months earlier, they’d postponed their honeymoon until Summer’s kids could take a week off school. Bray had made the honeymoon arrangements and Summer hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she wanted to be back in Ravesville a day earlier.
But her twin had felt terrible about it. She and Trish had discussed it. Trish had assured her it was fine. Summer had wisely not mentioned that she intended to draft her own replacement.
“Come on. Your sister is going to be mad at me if I don’t get this right,” Milo said, proving that he was willing to play upon every emotion.
“Are you scared of her or her tough-guy husband?”
“Both.”
She smiled at him. Milo wasn’t afraid of anything. Over the years he’d been at the café, they’d had more than one disruptive customer. It was bound to happen, especially in a café that attracted one-timers, the people driving through on their way somewhere else. In those instances, with a minimum of fuss and mess, Milo would have his arm around the customer, gently pushing him out of the café, with a stern warning not to bother to come back.
He was prepared to defend them. One time when he’d been lying on the kitchen floor, fixing a temperamental fryer, she’d spied an ankle holster. She knew as an ex-con he likely wasn’t supposed to have a gun. She also believed that he carried it purely for protection. For himself. For her and Summer. When he realized that she’d seen the gun, he challenged her. “You have a problem with this?” he said.
