In Too Deep (Second Chance Romance)

By Cheryl Douglas

West
I couldn’t believe my luck when my blind date turned out to be none other than my ex-girlfriend. She’d hit me up on social media with a proposition. She wanted a baby and thought I might be the guy to deliver the goods. What? I couldn’t say ‘hell no’ fast enough... until she told me she’d find someone else. Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Shani
I knew it was crazy to ask my ex-boyfriend to father my child, but when I considered my other options... well, I didn’t have any other options. West made every other guy I’ve ever dated look like little boys. In every sense of the word. And a sperm bank seemed so... yuck. So unless West was willing to step up I’d be S.O.L.
And tough-talking former cops like me didn’t back down from a challenge. Not without a fight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheryl Douglas
• Release date: Feb 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370214419

Cheryl Douglas

Cheryl Douglas is a USA Today bestselling author who kicks back in the country, surrounded by farm land and nature. Her life revolves around family, country music, travel, caffeine, chocolate, and deadlines.Visit Cheryl at www.authorcheryldouglas.com

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Chapter 1

West

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I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to get suckered into this shit. A blind-freaking-date. Well, not a blind date exactly.

Some random chick had been hitting me up on social media, busting my balls because her favorite hockey team was crushing mine in the playoffs. So I’d opened my big mouth and stuck my size twelve in it. Dinner if she won. Sex if I did. I was joking about the sex, of course.

Okay, no, I wasn’t. But it was a moot point now, ‘cause I was sitting at a table at the back of a dimly lit restaurant, waiting to foot the bill for some overpriced dinner. All because our star center had gotten leveled during the second game of the series and hadn’t returned.

Maybe she was gonna stand me up. Wouldn’t surprise me. She was a smartass who loved to bust my chops. I could imagine my phone going off in a few seconds, letting me know I’d been had and she had no intention of showing. It would serve me right for agreeing to a date with a woman who had no photos of herself posted online and used the screen name @ballbuster13 with handcuffs as her avatar.

I didn’t know if she was into kinky shit or what, but if she was, I could get on board. I’d owned a gentleman’s club for eight years with my brother, and there wasn’t much I hadn’t seen or done in the back room of that place. It was classier than most strip joints, but everyone came for the same reason. To get off.

I was downing my second scotch when I damn near dropped my glass. It couldn’t be. Shani Derrah. The girl who’d once owned me, whether she knew it or not. I hadn’t seen her in four years. And she was walking my way. No. Hell no.

Hey, Travis.

Still with the last names. What are you doing here, Shani?

Damn. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Copper-colored hair and eyes shouldn’t work with olive skin, but on her, it did. And those bangin’ curves didn’t hurt either. Lord have mercy. One look at her and I was going down for the count again. I’d stopped her cold turkey, ‘cause that was the only way to get over a woman like her. But there were no group meetings for poor saps who got addicted to a sexy-as-sin cop who played at being a hooker.

Yeah, my ex was a cop… who’d gotten shot in the line of duty. I’d begged her to quit as I held her hand in that hospital bed, pleading with her not to die on me. She told me she would quit… as soon as I sold my club. We were at a stalemate. I couldn’t watch her die, and she couldn’t watch me make a buck objectifying women. So she walked away. Hardest thing I ever had to do was watch her leave.

She slid into the bench seat across from me, losing her cropped leather jacket in the process. Isn’t it obvious? She licked her full lips. I’m here to collect. Your team lost. Mine won.

She was from Chicago originally, and even though she lived in Pittsburgh now, she was still loyal to her home team. It had always been a bone of contention between us, since we were both huge hockey fans. And my kid brother just happened to be the starting goalie for the home team. Not that she cared about that. She used to give him grief every chance she got too, telling him he had hands like feet and needed to get his head out of his ass every once in a while if he expected to stop a puck. He loved the abuse she dished out. The masochist.

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was you. I was still staring at her, trying not to notice her cleavage. It wasn’t easy. She was wearing a deep V-neck and the girls were on full display. In my former line of work, it came with the territory. But those were usually fake. Shani’s were real… and so perfect my fingers twitched just looking at them.

Hey! Up here! She pointed at her eyes.

Man, I’d missed this woman. No other had ever, or would ever, compare to Shani. Uh oh. I better stop thinking like that or I’d be back in full-blown addiction mode.

What do you want to drink? I asked, tongue in cheek as I perused the wine menu. Not that I expected her to order a glass of wine. Her favorite song back in the day had been Toby’s Keith’s Whiskey Girl ‘cause she loved the way the hard stuff burned.

What do you think?

I beckoned to our waiter. Holding up my glass, I said, Another one for me and the lady will have the same.

When he raised an eyebrow at her choice of beverage, Shani gave him the stink-eye. I was pretty sure it wasn’t every day he encountered a woman who looked like her and ordered thirty-five-year-old Old Pulteney.

Tight-ass, she muttered as he walked away, making me chuckle.

She’d never been shy about speaking her mind, and that was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with her. The way we’d met was crazy. She’d come in to inform me one of my employees had been busted for prostitution and wouldn’t be at work for a couple of days. A favor, she said, because the woman had been afraid of losing her job and had kids to feed.

I’d tried to charm her. She blew me off. I asked her out. She said no. Then I begged. She laughed in my face. Good thing the police station was only a few blocks from my place. I stopped by with little gifts until I wore her down. Espresso. Pastries. No flowers for this girl. She would have laughed and thrown them back in my face.

But slowly, I wore her down and she wore me out. In bed, this girl was a firecracker. The best I’d ever had. And that’s saying a lot, ‘cause I ain’t no choir boy.

So what’ve you been up to, gorgeous?

She rolled her eyes. She hated being called gorgeous. She was, but she hated it. Claimed it was a hazard in her line of work. Ugh. Her line of work. I hated thinking about her putting herself in danger every goddamn day.

You first, she said before gliding her tongue over her lips.

She wasn’t doing it to be sexy or coy, like most women. She didn’t even have to try. She could turn a guy on just by looking his way. I ought to know—I had the scars on my knuckles to prove it. Yeah, I’d gotten into it with a few too many guys shooting their filthy mouths off about my woman. They didn’t know she carried a gun and a big stick, and I wasn’t about to tell them. Let them find out for themselves if they ever met her in a dark alley.

Sold my half of the club to my brother. I let that sink in before I smiled. And you thought I’d never do it.

She tried to hide her surprise by perusing the leather-bound menu. Huh, guess you’re smarter than I thought.

Compliments were few and far between from her, even back-handed ones, so I’d take it. How ‘bout you? Still dodging bullets?

Nope. She sat up straighter, avoiding eye contact. Private investigator now. My specialty is catching cheating scumbags.

She had a thing against cheating husbands, since her father had been one. He’d had another family her mother knew nothing about, and when she found out he’d been living a double life for twenty-two years, she took a bottle of pills and never woke up.

What happened to the force?

She raised a shoulder. Had another run-in with a gun. They wanted to stick me behind a desk. I said hell no.

I stared at her, my voice shaky when I said, You were shot again?

A flesh wound, she said, rolling her eyes. It was nothing. But they were pissed I wouldn’t submit to counseling. It’s protocol, and since it wasn’t my first rodeo, they really pushed for it. I pushed back. In the end, we had to part ways. She gave me a rare smile. Amicably, of course.

Part ways. Amicably. Those were the same words she’d tossed at me when she suggested we split. They’d felt like a boulder in the gut then… and still did. Ugh. I shouldn’t have been breathing the same air as this woman. She was toxic to me. Even without our careers as a stumbling block, we were still bad for each other.

She’d made it clear from the beginning she didn’t do monogamous relationships. Except with me she did. ‘Cause I told her if I ever caught another sonofabitch putting his hands on her, I’d put him in the hospital, and she knew I wasn’t blowing smoke. My brothers and I had a reputation, but we’d always skirted the law, another bone of contention with my law-enforcing ex.

The waiter delivered our drinks and took our order before I raised my glass. Here’s to starting over.

Starting over? she asked, allowing me to tap my glass against hers. What does that mean?

I just sold the club a few weeks ago. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life now. Thankfully I had a few million bucks to show for my work, so I could afford to take my time deciding.

What made you decide to sell the club? She raised the glass and tipped it back, not even flinching as the liquor slid down her throat.

Nope. She