Drawing The Line, page 10
“Yeah, sorry to say that’s not going to be an option for either of you. See, I’m not too interested in living life on the run.” Brody relaxed his shoulders into a brief shrug. “But the only way this case falls apart completely is if neither one of you testifies. So you two lovers are about to take a permanent vacation. But don’t worry. I’ll bury you both in the same spot, nice and cozy. Not that anyone’s ever going to find it.”
Serenity straightened, shifting her weight against Brody’s thick frame. “Jason,” she said, her eyes gleaming as he finally met them again with his own.
“Shoot him.”
Both men froze, but she said it again, low and clear and dead serious. “I know the protocol. Shoot him.”
The sight of her pale face and the ragged fear in her voice ripped Jason’s heart in two directions behind his sternum despite her show of strength. But before he could tell her he couldn’t shoot Brody no matter how much he ached to, Serenity snared every last ounce of his attention.
“Jason, look at me. Look at me.”
He did, but it wasn’t the impassioned plea that registered in his brain.
In that split-second slice of time, he saw her wide-legged stance, the distance she’d created by rattling Brody with her demand, the free hand sliding up to the space between his knife-hand wrist and her own collarbone.
With startling clarity, he saw her foot, encased in a steel-toed kitchen clog and in perfect position to slam down over the flimsy Nike directly behind it.
And then deep-seated instinct took over.
“Now, Serenity!”
She complied in a blur, smashing Brody’s foot as she used the hitch of pain and shock to dig her fingers into his wrist. She ducked and twisted in one fluid move, the grotesque sound of Brody’s elbow popping out of joint preceding the clatter of the knife to the floor and Brody’s howl of pain by just a breath, but by then, it was the least of the guy’s worries.
Jason had his Glock trained only inches away from the center of Brody’s forehead, and the blue lights flashing from behind the curtains suggested there was a hell of a lot more where that came from.
“Turn around and lace your hands behind your head,” Jason said, kicking the knife far out of reach without moving his eyes from Brody’s hunched over form. “Right. Now.”
“That bitch broke my arm!” he protested, his face mottled with a mixture of pain and rage, but Jason didn’t budge.
“She probably broke your toes too. Now turn the fuck around before I let her break the rest of you.”
Brody winced, but the sound of the front door being kicked in and the multiple shouts of “Brentsville PD!” convinced him to comply.
“Detective Jason Morgan, suspect in custody!” Jason hollered, not lowering his Glock by so much as a millimeter until Noah and three other detectives barreled into the kitchen. Only when they took Brody into custody and read him his rights, marching him from the premises under armed supervision did Jason kick out of detective mode and turn around.
The tiny kitchen was swarming with officers, with lights and voices and a cacophony of sounds, but the only thing he saw was Serenity.
“Jesus, tell me you’re okay.” He was on her in a flash, hands covering her from the top down as the fear of what could’ve been finally flooded in. “Did he hurt you? I swear to God—”
“I’m fine, Jason,” she said, her trademark honesty telling him it wasn’t just a rote response. “But only because of you.”
A humorless laugh forced itself from Jason’s chest, and he ran his hands over her again, not quite believing the message his eyes delivered. “It’s my fault he got in. I didn’t check the window. If Brody had hurt you, I—”
Serenity cut him off with a shake of her head. “I’m the one who cracked the window in the first place. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. But Brody didn’t hurt me, because you taught me how to defend myself. And you called for backup before you came down the hall, just like I knew you would.”
It had been automatic to hit the panic button on his cell phone before he’d grabbed his gun from its spot on the nightstand, but how could she have… “You did?”
“It’s protocol, remember? You told me three weeks ago, if you hear anything wrong, you call first. No matter what.”
I know the protocol…I know the protocol…
She’d known all along that Jason had a plan. That he’d be able to do his job.
That he wouldn’t think twice.
Jason hooked a finger under her chin, the half-grin on his face impossible to contain. “You would make an excellent cop. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“As exciting as that sounds, how about I skip the academy and leave the detective work to the man I love?” Serenity asked, her gaze never wavering. “I love you, Jason. I trust you, and I want us to be together. What do you say?”
Jason tightened his hold on her, and nothing had ever felt so right in his life. “I love you too, but I’ll only say yes on one condition.”
That tiny little crease appeared on her forehead, and God, he would be lost for this woman for the rest of his life.
“What’s that?” she asked, but Jason simply lowered his mouth to hers before replying,
“You owe me apple turnovers in bed, Ms. Gallagher. And I intend to collect.”
THE END
Serenity Gallagher’s Apple TurnoversYield: 8 turnovers and one very happy significant other
Ingredients:
1 package frozen puff pastry, thawed and gently unrolled*
3-4 medium tart, firm apples, such as Granny Smith, Honeycrisp or Pink Lady, cored and sliced, peeling optional (I actually prefer mine with the skin on for texture, but to each her own!)
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
2 Tablespoons butter
½ cup golden raisins
¾ cup light brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 pinch nutmeg (freshly ground is best)
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
1Tablespoon cold water
½ cup slivered almonds, toasted strongly preferred
1 cup powdered sugar
1 Tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon almond extract
*Note: In the book, Serenity makes her own dough. But Serenity is a fictional character and has the time to do that! The puffed pastry works wonderfully too, and to appeal to those of us with busy lives, I substituted it here. If you’re a purist like dear Serenity, come visit my website at www.kimberlykincaid.com for the dough-from-scratch version of this recipe.
Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Press together any cracks in the pastry dough (wet fingers work best for this) and cut the pastry into eight even sections. Set aside.
In a small bowl, sprinkle apple slices with lemon juice to prevent browning. In a heavy saucepan over medium heat, melt butter. Add apples, raisins, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir frequently, cooking until the apples begin to get soft and your kitchen starts to smell like heaven (about 3-4 minutes). Meanwhile, combine cornstarch and water in a small bowl and stir into saucepan. Cook until mixture thickens, another 3-4 minutes. Remove from heat to cool slightly. Stir in almonds.
Spoon even amounts of filling onto each section of dough (inhaling deeply and making happy noises is optional, but encouraged) Fold dough over to make a “pocket”, sealing edges with wet fingers and mark with the tines of a fork. Bake on a parchment-lined baking sheet, 22-24 minutes until pastry puffs and turns golden-brown. Cool for five minutes on baking sheet, then remove to a wire rack until completely cool.
While turnovers bake, combine powdered sugar, milk and almond extract in a small bowl. When cooked turnovers are cool, drizzle glaze evenly over each turnover. Serve with lots of love.
Also By Kimberly Kincaid -Love On The Line: http://amzn.to/11Fzb4F
-The Sugar Cookie Sweetheart Swap: http://amzn.to/ZR9WZ8
Kincaid, Kimberly, Drawing The Line
