Capturing Peace

Capturing Peace by Molly McAdams

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Authors: Molly McAdams
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it. I wanted to tell him I couldn’t see him again. Having Parker call while I’d been kissing Coen made me want to keep him from Parker’s life and mine all over again.
    Want to. That didn’t mean I could.
    Bringing one hand around his neck, I stood on my toes and softly pressed my lips to his. The arm not holding the door wrapped around my waist to pull me closer as he deepened the kiss for a few seconds before releasing me.
    “Good night,” I whispered against his lips, and kissed him one last time when they curled up in a smile.
    “Night.”
    I walked quickly to my car, and thanked God that Coen lived closer to Jason’s than I did.
    After picking up my still-crying son, I drove us home and got him into his own bed once he’d calmed down. When I was sure he was asleep, I closed his door behind me and went to make sure the apartment was locked up, and all the lights were shut off.
    Grabbing my phone after I got ready to go to sleep and had climbed into my bed, I pulled up Coen’s name.
    We made it home . . . you know . . . even though it’s late and all ;)
    Instead of a response, his name popped up on my screen, and I hit the green button.
    “Hello,” I answered quietly.
    “I’m glad you made it back.”
    A smile crossed my face and I grabbed at the ends of my hair. “Sorry we had to cut the night short.”
    He was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Just tell me that won’t be the last time I see you.”
    “As long as it’s not a date,” I teased.
    “Never. I was thinking more of a distraction.”
    “I like distractions.”
    “So do I.” His gruff tone had my eyes shutting and a shiver running down my body. “Get some sleep.”
    “You too.”
    “Good night, Reagan.”
    I hung up, and placed my phone on the nightstand. Just as I got comfortable in my bed, my phone vibrated.
    Pulling up the text from Coen, I laughed out loud when I saw the three images. One was a screenshot of the cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ; right in the center was the man who played Casey. The second was of him now. The third was a list of his movies, and right there was the title Shutter Island .
    I’m going to act like I never saw that. He’s still Casey in my head.
    Coen Steele: Denial is a bitch.
    Putting my phone back on the nightstand. I closed my eyes and went to sleep with a smile on my face.

 
    Chapter Four
    Coen— August 25, 2010
    “C HIN DOWN JUS T a little bit more. Eyes right at me. Mouth a little softer . . . perf—”
    “Damn, Steele!”
    I straightened from the position I’d been in and turned, my mouth already curving up in a smile.
    “If this is what you do all day, no wonder you wanted to get out so bad.”
    Slapping Hudson’s hand when he approached me, I just shrugged. “Well, seeing how it’s a Wednesday night and you’re not on base . . . I can only guess that means one of two things.”
    He held his hands out to the side and smirked. “Civilian status, bitch!”
    “Really, man? Congrats. Let’s go grab a drink when I’m done, we only have a few more minutes.”
    Hudson flopped down into a chair and grinned. “Don’t let me stop you.”
    I rolled my eyes and turned back to my client. She was already only covered by her underwear and an unbuttoned shirt, but now with Hudson sitting next to me, her eyes were glued to him and she was pulling her unbuttoned shirt wider.
    “Eyes back on me,” I said for the third time since he’d come in. “Stop biting on your lip. Stop eye-fucking Hudson. He’s taken.”
    Standing, I glared over at Hudson and kicked his leg as I pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
    “Hater,” he mumbled as he stood and left the studio.
    Looking back at my client, I raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t my place to remind her she was doing this shoot for her husband. “All right, you ready for the ones on the couch?”
    After we were done with the shoot and she was fully dressed again, I yelled out for Hudson as I flipped through the

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