Awaken My Heart

By Maria K. Alexander

Lies have a way of coming back to haunt you—a lesson Ashley O’Neil learns the hard way when she runs into the man she shared a steamy night with over fourteen years ago. Now tangled in a web of deception, she’ll need to right a wrong and chance losing her heart to the very man she deceived. An unexpected encounter with the woman he had a one-night stand with has thrown Detective Nick DiFrancesco for a loop. Recently divorced, he’s cautious around women, but one look at Ashley has him considering taking a chance. Until he learns her secret…one that impacts him where it counts most—family. When Nick’s drug trafficking case goes south, a lead puts him in Ashley’s path. With his family in danger and his heart on the line, he’ll need to fight for justice and risk it all for the woman he’s never forgotten.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: May 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781509214334

Maria K. Alexander

A romantic at heart, this Jersey-born girl would spend hours as young girl getting lost in and wishing to be one of the heroines in the stories she read. Books gave her the ability to go to another world where she loved meeting new characters, learning about their problems, and watching them fall in love. Maria writes in her "spare" time between juggling a full-time job, her kid's busy schedules, and dreaming of writing full-time by the Jersey shore.

Book preview

Inc.

She licked her lips. Is that an order, detective?

The corner of his mouth lifted. A request.

When his gaze slid to her lips, Ashley felt the tingling in the pit of her stomach move lower.

He stepped closer until his shoes brushed the tips of hers. Twice in two days.

She could smell the musky male scent of him, sexy and pungent. What?

It’s the second time in two days we’ve run into each other, Nick said.

Coincidences, Ashley said.

Or a sign you should go out with me.

Oh, how she wanted to. It would be easy to give in to him, to slide her hands up his firm chest, and lose herself in his embrace. In heels, she was only a few inches shorter, and her mouth was dangerously close to his.

She sucked in a breath. I told you, I can’t.

Can’t or won’t?

It’s the same thing.

It’s not, and you know it. He leaned closer, and his warm breath brushed her face. You can’t tell me you don’t feel what’s happening.

She lifted her chin and stared at warm brown eyes. I don’t.

Liar.

Praise for Maria K. Alexander

Maria K. Alexander’s books, UNTANGLE MY HEART and FOREVER IN MY HEART won the Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Contest in 2014 and 2016. UNTANGLE MY HEART also finaled in NJRW’s Golden Leaf contest for Best First Book.

~*~

"FOREVER IN MY HEART will stay forever in my heart! Ms. Alexander does a fantastic job of bringing the characters to life…they are true people…with imperfections and history."

~Cat’s Reviews

Awaken

My Heart

by

Maria K. Alexander

Tangled Hearts Series, Book 3

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Awaken My Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Maria Ketterer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2017

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1432-7

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1433-4

Tangled Hearts Series, Book 3

Published in the United States of America

Dedications

To Jess and Ryan

for your unconditional love and support—

Always believe in yourself and don’t be afraid to take a chance and follow your dream.

~*~

To Joe

for always being there when I needed you the most

~*~

To Mom

for always believing in me

and offering encouragement—

Thanks for teaching me the closeness of family

and for Friday night homemade pizza!

~*~

To my dad,

whose presence I carry with me every day—

I love and miss you!

~*~

To RoseAnn and Joanna

for pushing me into bringing Nick’s character to life,

and thanks to the rest of the Violet Femmes

—Jaye, JB, Tina, Michele, and Diana—

for your friendship and continued support

Chapter One

Final divorce papers turned out to be the highlight of Nick DiFrancesco’s otherwise suck-ass day. Three suck-ass days, if he counted the seventy-two hours he’d spent undercover in the bowels of Northeast Philly hoping to close the drug-trafficking case he’d worked on the past eight months.

Now, the case had gone up in smoke—like his mole only four hours earlier.

Nick started his SUV and tilted his head back against the headrest while giving the AC a chance to kick in on this warm day in early October. All he wanted was a shower, shave, food, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Despite the snag in his case, there was one highlight to the past three days. Nick reached over to the passenger seat for the large brown envelope. He hadn’t opened it yet, but he knew what it contained. With nearly cool air blowing on his face, he opened the flap and slid out the stack of papers.

Divorced.

After almost fifteen years of marriage.

Nick smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. He was free. The tension that had been building in his neck the past year and a half, since he’d learned of his wife’s infidelity, started to loosen.

Sure, he worked long and odd hours. Came home banged up, occasionally stabbed, and twice shot. But it wasn’t like Nick took chances. He was as careful as the next cop, but risk came with the job. He’d thought Franny understood. Apparently not, given that Nick had come home early one day to find her in bed with a corporate suit who turned out to be a financial mogul. Later, he learned she’d been bangin’ the guy for over six months.

No sooner had he pulled out into traffic than his cell belted out the song Love Stinks by the J. Geils Band. Franny’s ringtone, compliments of his sister, Kate, and her warped sense of humor and dislike of his ex. Nick had to admit, the song fit.

Nick clicked his hands-free Bluetooth. Why does it we seem we talk more now that we’re divorced?

I would say it’s your lucky day, except it’s not, thanks to our daughter, Franny replied in her nasal tone. How had he lived fifteen years listening to the grating sound?

Nick’s heart stuttered. What’s wrong with Gina?

She got caught painting a mural on the lockers.

Again? What’d she paint this time?

"It’s a play on the book Divergent. She showed the teaching staff separated into each of the factions."

They needed to find another outlet for their daughter’s creativity, which would likely mean more money out of Nick’s already stretched pockets. But if it got Gina to stop doing street art in her new school, it was money well spent.

Where are you now? Nick asked.

On my way to the school. The principal wants to meet with us.

I’ll meet you there.

Nick disconnected. So much for the shower and sleep.

Twenty-five minutes later and a mile from the school, he noticed a silver sedan on the side of the road. A woman in a mid-thigh skirt was bent over the opened trunk. Long legs and high-heeled sandals led up to a navy skirt. With her legs in a wide stance, she wriggled slim hips side to side, attempting to wrestle something out.

The area wasn’t his jurisdiction, but it was a busy road, and he didn’t want anyone getting hurt. Stopping was his civic duty as an officer of the law.

Of course the sexy legs may have been a factor in his decision. Besides, if her skirt rode up any higher, he’d need to give her a ticket for indecent exposure.

He parked behind the vehicle and stepped out, grateful he’d changed into a Philadelphia Police Department T-shirt at the precinct. It was wrinkled but looked—and smelled—a lot better than the blood-spattered one he’d been wearing.

As he approached, he lifted a corner of his mouth at the curse she muttered. He shifted his gaze to the ground, taking in the jack, wrench, and flat tire.

Nick increased his pace, but before he could offer help, the woman rose to her full height, yanked off a matching suit jacket, and with notable force, threw it in the trunk. A white tank top revealed toned arms and a trim waist. Her hair, the color of Jersey white corn, was wound in some type of bun at the nape of her neck.

He remembered a girl with a similar color hair and felt his pulse kick up a notch.

Frustrated-flat-tire girl placed her hands on her hips before bending forward into the trunk once again.

Nick reached the woman just as she hefted the tire up. Excuse me.

She swung around, clunking him in the chest with the tire. It took you long enough to get here.

A prickle of recognition raised the hair on the back of his neck.

It took long enough to get the key, Nick. I’m not the kind of girl who does this sort of thing, but you bring out the bad girl in me.

He backed her against the door of the elevator, already hard and full for her. And is that a bad thing?

It feels bad in a completely good way, she murmured seconds before he kissed her.

Nick blinked back the memory of so many years ago.

Ashley O’Neil. Brainiac extraordinaire, high school class valedictorian, and Nick’s one and only one-night stand.

Nick reached out to grasp the tire, his hands covering the tips of her fingers, and felt the swift jolt of contact rush through him. Ashley. Ashley O’Neil. He flashed a crooked smile.

He heard the catch of her breath and felt her stiffen. One look in her sharp green cat eyes had him stiffening, too, but for an entirely different reason.

Her pink tongue moistened her lips, and she glanced back at the road. Nick.

I’ve got this. He pulled on the tire until she released it. Need some help?

With the back of her hand, she swiped at the light gleam of perspiration that glistened across her forehead. I’d appreciate it. I’ve been waiting for roadside assistance for forty-five minutes. I gave up on them and attempted to change it myself. As you can see, I haven’t gotten very far.

It’s a good thing I stopped, then. I’ve changed a helluva lot of tires. He grabbed the wrench and went to work unloosening the lug nuts and tried to ignore the smell and feel of her next to him—and fuck if she didn’t still have the sexiest pair of legs in Philly. I thought you moved to California.

I moved back the beginning of the summer.

You work in the area?

I had a meeting not far from here and as I was heading to work, heard a sound from the car.

Riding on the rim can ruin the tire. He cranked up the jack and slid the flat tire off and spare on.

So I’ve heard, she said, a slight hitch in her voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her staring at his biceps.

After tightening the lug nuts, Nick removed the jack and scanned the old tire for punctures. He rose and pointed at a mark in the tire. You ran over a nail. If you bring it to a gas station, they should be able to plug it.

Thanks. I’ll do that.

Nick dropped the tire in the trunk.

She reached in for her jacket and brushed his hand, causing another shock to surge through him.

Ashley—

Nick— They both began at the same time.

She let out a nervous laugh. Sorry. You first.

I’m sorry I never contacted you after that weekend. Sorry I couldn’t because my ex-girlfriend was pregnant.

Oh, no worries. I had things to do.

Like pack for California.

She arched a pale eyebrow and nodded. Like pack for California.

And now you’re back.

I am.

His cell buzzed in his rear pocket, and he stole a quick glance at the screen. It was Franny wanting to know how close he was to the school. He typed a brief response before turning his attention back to Ashley.

I need to go. She closed the trunk and started for the driver’s door.

He reached for her wrist. Maybe we could meet up sometime and grab dinner.

Do you think that’s a good idea? Aren’t you married? Ashley said.

Divorced.

She pulled free and retrieved a set of keys from her bag. I’m still not sure it’s a good idea.

Are you married?

She paused with the car door half opened. No, but my schedule is pretty busy.

Everyone has to eat, Ashley. What’s one meal?

It was slight, but Nick caught the hesitation…the yearning and…a touch of regret. He could relate because looking at her in that pretty suit made him full of regret—for what they could have shared if fate had not intervened.

She shook her head. Maybe I’ll see you around, Nick.

With that, she folded her long legs in the car and took off.

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. What the hell had happened? And why did the fact she wasn’t interested in seeing him make him want to see her all the more?

****

If not for bad luck, Ashley O’Neil wouldn’t have any. From oversleeping, to arriving late to her meeting, followed by a flat tire, Ashley’s day went from bad to worse the moment she laid eyes on Nick DiFrancesco.

After all these years. Almost fifteen, to be precise.

Of all the scenarios she’d imagined, running into Nick on the side of the road a mile from Chartwell Academy, the prestigious private school in Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania, wasn’t one she’d considered.

The school where Ashley’s fourteen-year-old son, Sean, attended. The son who carried half Nick’s chromosomes, and whom he didn’t know existed.

Their one-night stand had been, hands down, the best night—and sex—of her life. It had been the only time she’d abandoned her practical nature and indulged in something for herself.

Indulged in the pleasure of Nick—the first of which culminated in an elevator. As the elevator doors swished closed, Ashley studied the sexy gleam in Nick’s eye and watched as he unloosened his tie so it draped carelessly around his neck.

It’s a long ride up to the floor. I wonder how we’ll pass the time, Nick said a moment before he pressed her against the wall, arms pinned above her head.

The rest of the ride was a blur while Nick ravaged her mouth…her breasts. Sensation overruled logic, and she met the demands of his mouth while grinding into the hard ridge of his erection even as his hands moved under her dress and gripped her ass.

She held onto his shoulders as his fingers slid past her panties and made her come all before they reached the twenty-first floor.

And that had been only the first of many delicious orgasms.

Ashley pressed cold hands to her flushed cheeks at the memory.

How could Nick affect her all these years later?

She sipped from the water bottle she’d bought at the service station where she waited for her tire to be repaired.

Nick looked good. A little rough around the edges with a beard fuller than the morning-after scruff she’d remembered and hair months overdue for a trim. Even in his wrinkled shirt, stretched taut over a muscled chest, he commanded the situation. Likely could have commanded her if he’d asked—not that he’d asked last time.

Rising, she willed herself to forget memories of that night. She wasn’t that naïve girl anymore. She was stronger and couldn’t afford to succumb to memories of a long ago passionate night.

Much.

Stop thinking about happy endings, Ashley. Time to focus on reality.

After her tire was fixed, she headed to work, almost two hours later than she expected. As she drove, she thought about her next steps.

She’d known running into Nick was a risk when she decided to return to Philadelphia. But the desire to live on the same coast as her father and her BFF, Patty, along with a perfect job opportunity, was too good to pass up.

Besides, her new life was over a half hour away from where she grew up in Northeast Philly, where Nick worked as a cop. Running into him should have been low risk.

A bad calculation on her part.

Ashley pulled into her spot behind the seventy-five-year-old house that served as the location of New Beginnings, a residential safe haven for pregnant women who chose to keep their babies but had nowhere to go. She’d been a counselor at a similar facility in California and when she was offered an opportunity to serve as director at a place on the East Coast, she jumped at the chance.

The chance to make a difference.

Ashley knew how hard it was being a single mom. She’d had her father, and while he’d been there through sickness and health, it wasn’t the same as a husband. She couldn’t imagine handling everything on her own and could see why some women felt overwhelmed.

That’s why Ashley wanted to help pregnant mothers deal with the obstacles they faced and provide strategies for handling them. Women who had no one and wanted a chance to raise their children needed to know they weren’t alone. There were people, organizations, and resources to assist them.

Ashley let herself in through the back door that led to the kitchen.

Perfect timing. Lunch is almost ready, Sylvia Manning, resident housemother, said while she cut tomatoes for a salad.

Sorry I’m late. The meeting ran long, and then the flat tire set me back a bit.

No worries. All’s good here, but Tanya mentioned something I wanted to run by you. Sylvia took eleven bowls down from the cabinet and set them on the island.

Ashley dropped her bag on a chair, hopped up on a stool, and snagged a carrot stick. Oh? What’s up?

There’s been another Randy encounter, Sylvia said.

Randy was Tanya’s ex and the father of her baby. An alcoholic, drug user, and dealer, Randy also got off on knocking Tanya around when he was high or drunk. Although Tanya had cut off ties prior to when she came to New Beginnings five months ago, it was the second time she’d run into Randy this month—something that didn’t sit well with Ashley.

Where this time? Ashley asked.

Outside the library. Walter cut him off before he could talk to her, Sylvia said.

Walter was Sylvia’s husband and stood a formidable six foot five. No one was getting anything past Walter.

Ashley crunched on the carrot and frowned. I don’t believe in coincidences. We need to find out more about this Randy person. After lunch I’ll talk with Tanya. Maybe we should file a restraining order against him.

That may be a help, but what happens if Walter isn’t around the next time Randy shows up?

Sylvia had a point. One of the programs they talked about starting was self-defense for pregnant women. Finding someone who could provide instruction was on Ashley’s long to do list.

I’ll step up my research on self-defense programs. Later today, I’ll review tips on how to handle these situations with the girls.

That’d be good.

Ashley stood. I’m going to check voice mail.

Lunch in ten, Sylvia said.

In her office, Ashley sat in her desk chair. After jotting down notes from four messages, she added more items to her list. Staying busy would keep her thoughts from straying to her encounter with Nick.

Something she couldn’t avoid much longer.

Pulling out her smartphone, she shot a text to Patty asking if she was free after dinner.

Ashley had made a bad decision and now needed to figure out how to break the news to both Sean and Nick. Patty was the only other person who knew Sean’s father. Hopefully between the two of them, they’d come up with a plan for telling them.

In the meantime, Ashley needed to stay far away from Nick DiFrancesco.

****

Nick pulled into the lot of Chartwell Academy and parked. The private school was out of his way but close to the house Franny and the kids had moved into with her boyfriend over the summer. Nick hadn’t seen the need for a fancy private school—public school had been good enough for both of them—but when Daniel Carmichael III offered to foot the bill for both Nick’s kids to attend Danny’s alma mater, Franny was like cheese on a pizza and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He found Franny and Gina outside the principal’s office.

His ex gave him the once-over and rolled her eyes. When was the last time you showered?

His long work hours and frequent disheveled state had been a sticking point with Franny during their marriage.

He met her gaze with a steely one. Why does it matter?

Nick flicked a glance over to his fourteen-year-old daughter who sat on a chair, her arms crossed over her stomach. She had the long slender legs of her mother, brown curly hair of his sister, Kate, and a pout identical to his sister, Vicky, at the same age. From what Nick had experienced the past year, ever since Gina hit puberty, the teen was going to be a handful—also like Aunt Vicky. While Nick was accustomed to his sister, he was treading new water with his daughter.

Hey, peanut. What’s going on?

Gina took in her father’s appearance and gave an eye-roll similar to her mother’s and resumed staring at her sneakers.

Nick sighed, resigned that they were going to do this the hard way.

The principal’s talking with the guidance counselor, Franny said.

The door opened, and a woman who looked to be in her early thirties stood in the doorway. Mr. and Mrs. DiFrancesco. I’m Ms. Peterson, one of the guidance counselors. Please come in. She stood away from the door to allow them to enter.

A middle-aged man with dark blond hair sat behind a desk. He rose when they entered.

Mr. and Mrs. DiFrancesco. I’m Robert O’Neil, headmaster here at Chartwell Academy. Handshakes were exchanged, and Ms. Peterson joined Mr. O’Neil by his desk.

O’Neil…what were the odds?

Mr. O’Neil gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. Please have a seat.

Franny and Gina sat while Nick stood off to the side.

I’m sorry to call you down here, but we need to discuss Gina’s behavior. It’s her third incident since school started a month ago, Mr. O’Neil began.

Franny grasped Gina’s hand. My daughter is fragile right now. Her father and I have just divorced, and she and I have recently moved into a new home.

And in with her boyfriend who didn’t give a rat’s ass about Nick’s kids.

While I agree Gina’s home environment is delicate, she needs to respect authority and school property, Mr. O’Neil replied.

She’ll own up to the damage to the school, Nick replied. What do you suggest for punishment?

Shit, talk about an embarrassment to be a detective and have his daughter busted for vandalism. Wait until the guys at the precinct heard. Was this Gina’s way of getting attention? If so, she sure as hell did.

She’ll need to clean the lockers, naturally, Mr. O’Neil said.

We also feel she needs an outlet for her creative energy, Ms. Peterson added.

Such as? Nick asked.

Working with the drama club on set design. She has artistic talent, and we’d like to help her channel it in a more productive manner, Ms. Peterson replied.

Gina sat up and leaned forward. I don’t want to hang out with drama geeks.

You’ll be working with the set crew and not the cast. I’m sure we can arrange with Mr. Carroll to give you something independent, Ms. Peterson said.

That seems reasonable, Gina, Nick added.

In addition to the stubborn scowl on Gina’s face, Nick saw the firm set of her jaw. They were going to need to come up with something more effective than set crew and cleaning lockers to adjust her attitude.

Plus a month of Saturday detentions, Mr. O’Neil said.

That’s ridiculous, Franny snapped. She’ll miss dance class.

A large expense Nick didn’t think his daughter even cared about, which was confirmed when what looked like relief passed across Gina’s face.

Gina needs to understand this type of behavior is serious. If another incident happens, more drastic measures will need to be taken, including suspension or expulsion from school, Mr. O’Neil countered.

Franny jumped to her feel. You have some nerve. My fiancé is paying primo dollars for my kids to come to your fancy school, and that’s in addition to the more than generous donations he gives the school each year.

Fiancé? It seemed more than living arrangements were changing for his ex-wife. And he, for one, was bound and determined to prevent his children from expecting special treatment because their soon-to-be-stepfather had money.

I have a suggestion, Nick said. My sister’s fiancé is working through Habitat for Humanity to replace the playground in Franklin Park. What if Gina worked off her detention hours volunteering there?

Hadn’t his mom always said busy hands kept them out of trouble?

We could have several kids in detention each week, Ms. Peterson said.

Bring them all. The more the merrier.

Ms. Peterson and the headmaster exchanged glances.

Interesting idea, Mr. DiFrancesco. We’d have to get permission from the parents of the other students to participate, but I like the idea, Mr. O’Neil replied.

Great. I’ll get you the information, Nick said.

Gina, do you have any questions? Mr. O’Neil asked.

Gina shook her head.

Don’t you have something to say, Gina? Nick said with a pointed glance.

Gina sighed when she met his gaze before turning to the principal. I’m sorry, Mr. O’Neil, Ms. Peterson.

It wasn’t the most gracious of apologies but would have to do.

What about the other kid? Franny asked. Gina mentioned a boy was with her.

Mr. O’Neil stiffened, and Ms. Peterson looked uncomfortable.

The other student didn’t get caught doing damage to school property, Mr. O’Neil said.

How do you know he wasn’t the one who dared Gina to paint the mural? Franny countered.

This was the first Nick heard of another student being involved.

The other student will be questioned and dealt with appropriately, Mr. O’Neil said. I believe it prudent to handle your own child, Mrs. DiFrancesco, and let us worry about the rest of the student body.

Nice job, Nick thought, and stepped forward. Thanks for your time, and we apologize for Gina’s behavior.

He held the door open for Franny and Gina and allowed them to exit before turning back to the headmaster. By any chance are you related to Ashley O’Neil?

Mr. O’Neil nodded. Ashley’s my daughter. Do you know her?

We graduated high school together, Nick said. He would have offered details about the flat tire, but he didn’t want Franny to overhear. Since their separation, he gave Franny as little information as possible about his private life.

After saying goodbye to Gina and Franny, Nick headed home. As he passed the spot where he’d seen Ashley, he thought back to how she looked in the short skirt and smiled.

She