After slipping on his jeans and pulling on his shirt, Hank takes a seat on the edge of the bed to put his boots on. To say he was surprised about Natalie’s revelation that her sexual preferences have changed would be an understatement. Not that Hank cares. He’s a firm believer in love who you want to love and he’s happy that Natalie is happy. He has no tolerance for those people who denigrate another person’s choices. His biggest pet peeves are intolerance and hypocrisy and he’s not shy to let people know that. Hank stands and, after checking the mirror to make sure his shirt is not on inside out, he grabs his keys, his pistol, and exits his ground-floor apartment.
His Shelby Cobra chirps when he presses the key fob to unlock it. Stopping to inspect a suspicious stain on the hood, he discovers it’s a grease spot and he rubs it away with his thumb. With little thought, he wipes his thumb clean on his jeans and climbs behind the wheel. It’s hot outside and it’s about thirty degrees hotter inside, thanks to the black leather interior. Punching the start button, he fires up the massive engine and flips the air conditioner to max cold. After putting his pistol in the glove box, he reverses out of his parking spot and shifts the transmission into first gear, goosing the gas and steering the Mustang out of the parking lot. He shifts to third gear then fourth when he hits the main road. Traffic is light because most of the residents in McLean work in the now-dark D.C. area.
After weaving through traffic he pulls into the parking lot of One Westpark and motors up to the entrance. He can’t help but smile when Paige exits and walks to the car. She opens the door and climbs in. “Hi, Hank,” she says, strapping on her seat belt.
It takes Hank a moment to pull his gaze away from her tanned, toned legs. “Hi, Paige. Nice outfit.”
“You like it so you can ogle my legs.”
“Nothin’ wrong with starin’ at your legs. You have very nice legs. Legs a man might like to run his hands across.”
“Lunch, Hank. We’re going to lunch.”
“No dessert?” Hank asks.
“Yet to be determined.”
Hank eases his foot off the clutch. “I like a woman with an open mind.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The first round of thanks, as always, is reserved for you, the readers. If it weren’t for you I couldn’t do what I love doing. Thank you!
A special thanks to two people who are often overlooked — my production editor, Arthur Maisel, and my copyeditor, Randie Lipkin. I happen to think both are two of the best in the business. Thanks for finding my mistakes!
Thanks to my terrific editor and friend, Gary Goldstein. Thanks, Gary, for taking a chance on an unknown writer and for the dinners and adult beverages we’ve shared.
Thank you, Steven Zacharius, for giving us a place the writers can call home. Thanks, Lou Malcangi, for another great cover. I’m eternally grateful to all those who work at Kensington, including: Elizabeth (Liz) May, Lynn Cully, Lulu Martinez, Vida Engstrand, Kimberly Richardson, Lauren Jernigan, and Alexandra Nicolajsen. Welcome to the team, Lauren Vassallo! I look forward to working with you. A fond farewell to Morgan Elwell. Good luck in your future endeavors and thanks for being an advocate for my work.
Thank you, Jim Donovan.
Thanks to those who hold a special place in my heart: Kelsey, Andrew, and Camdyn Snider, Nickolas Washburn, and Karley Washburn. I love you all very, very much. Camdyn is our first grandchild and, yes, we do everything we can to spoil her.
This book is dedicated to my parents and to Tonya’s parents. Thank you for everything.
And lastly, to the woman who decided to share her life with me, Tonya. I love you forever and always.