Stand By Your Man by Susan Fox

on kissing. It was okay, depending on the woman, but mostly just a means to an end. The end being sex. Tonight was different. Karen had said no sex, and he wouldn’t push. He wouldn’t reach for her breast or slide his hand between her thighs. No matter how badly he wanted to. Hell, resisting touching this woman was maybe even as hard as resisting a drink, but he’d respect her boundaries if it killed him.
    So he sank deep into the kiss, enjoying it for exactly what it was: a special, sensual moment. Possibly the only kiss he and Karen would ever share. And that thought chilled his heated blood.
    Slowly, he drew back. “Oh, man.”
    Her cheeks glowed and her pink lips were damp and swollen. But then she pressed her lips together and a frown line creased her forehead. “Jamal, I believe in being forthright.”
    He nodded. “Okay. Good.”
    â€œI like you, I’m attracted to you, and I think I could care for you.”
    Care? This amazing woman could care for him? “I don’t know what to say.”
    â€œBut I can’t go there, I can’t head down that path. Not if you’re only looking for a hookup.” Her lashes lowered. “I’d only get hurt.” They flicked up again and she gazed steadily at him. “I’m only interested in a relationship with a possibility of a future.”
    â€œA future . . .”
    â€œI know we’ve only recently met, but I just mean that, uh . . . What I’m trying to say is, if you’re only looking for casual sex, if you’re sure you never want to settle down with a woman, or if you can’t imagine me being that woman, then—” She broke off with a self-deprecating laugh. “Crap. I may be forthright, but I’m not exactly articulate.”
    â€œNo, I get it.” Until tonight, he’d never thought about having a future with a woman. But in that basketball vision, the woman darting down the steps to join the game had looked a lot like Karen MacLean. “Tonight has been, uh, a lot.” Telling this woman emotional shit he’d never told a soul. Feeling things for her that he’d never felt before.
    But hell, if she knew who he really was, this woman with her high standards would write him off as the fuckup he’d proven to be. Though . . . That was the past. He was sober and he would stay sober. No more fuckups. He could stick his dirty secret in a box, lock it, and throw away the key.
    She nodded. “It has been a lot.”
    He reached for her hand and clasped it in his. “I’d never want to hurt you.”
    â€œI believe you.”
    â€œI need to go now. Guess I need to do some thinking.”
    She gave him a tremulous smile. “Let me know how it goes.”

Chapter 5
    A month after the night he’d spent talking to Karen MacLean, Jamal sat across from Jake in a seedy bar in Winnipeg. They both had scruffy facial hair and fake tattoos. Initially, another member had been assigned to go undercover with Jake, but when he was stricken with appendicitis, Jamal had filled in. They were trying to bust a new gang, the Black Devils, who were dealing drugs to local kids.
    Eying Jake’s beer enviously, Jamal took a sip of his tomato juice and bitters. “One hell of a job for an alcoholic.”
    â€œYou need any motivation to stay sober, just take a look over there.” Jake nodded toward a guy in the corner whose shaky hands, even cupped around his glass, could barely lift it to his mouth.
    The grungy wino was way less motivation than the knowledge of how Jamal had let Jake down. “Hard to believe that’s the route I was on.”
    â€œHarder to believe Brooke was doing it too.”
    â€œAmen. That’s one hell of a lady.” Five years sober. For him, that seemed a very long way off. He only hoped that, as other recovering alcoholics told him, the cravings diminished over time.
    â€œYeah.” Though Jake said he and Brooke