Tempt Me - By Shiloh Walker Page 0,9

just have to try and catch her after. I never stay past the auction, I’m afraid.”

“I see.” Mara looked at Rocki. “Are you going to be in the auction...oh, wait, you’re married. Where is your husband, Mrs. Monroe? I bet he’s quite a catch.”

Lacey went rigid next to her. Rocki reached out and rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Lacey...calm down,” she said softly, glancing away from the woman in front of her. Lacey was all but vibrating with the urge to do something violent. “Mara doesn’t exactly know me, after all. She doesn’t know about Brant.”

“I guess that means she also hasn’t taken three minutes to read anything about the benefit she’s attending, huh?” Lacey said, her voice harsh and cold.

Just then the music changed, going to a low, rhythmic Celtic ballad. As harp music filled the air, the lights went low and on the far wall of the restaurant, a reel of images started to play. As Brant’s smiling face appeared, Rocki looked at Mara. “The benefit is in my husband’s memory, Mara. He died five years ago.”

For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Cole hadn’t left after the little explosion with Mara. Part of it was because of the way she’d looked—that expression never boded well. So he hung around and watched, waiting.

Another reason he hadn’t left was that he wanted to see Rocki again. Yeah, he had an unnatural, unhealthy obsession with a beautiful, married woman. But he’d just ended an unhealthy relationship with a beautiful woman. Obviously he had a handle on when to end unhealthy relationships, right? Even one-sided ones.

Sighing, he stared out at the crowd, his gaze automatically seeking out Rocki. She was impossible to miss. She was tall, probably close to five ten. And with that hat and the heels she wore tonight, she stood out like a goddess.

A married one.

Shit.

Turning away, he looked for something to occupy his mind and absently grabbed one of the rose-colored flyers that had been handed out at the door in exchange for his “generous donation.” There was a picture on it, he noticed absently.

A guy. Black hair, a wide, easy grin.

Below the guy’s picture, it read: Jacob Brant Monroe.

Monroe...

In loving memory.

What the...?

Music started to play. Sad and poignant, filling the air like a liquid sob. Lifting his head, he found himself seeking out Rocki with his eyes, yet again. And he found himself watching, entranced, as she made her way to the small stage that had been set up near the back of the restaurant.

With pictures of her deceased husband flashing on the wall just over her shoulder, Rocki smiled out over the crowd. “It’s hard to believe just how fast time can pass.” She glanced over and everybody watched as the images flickered to a halt.

A wedding day.

Her wedding day.

Her voice was husky as she murmured, “We would have been coming up on our tenth anniversary this year.”

The images sped back up.

“Brant was a good husband. A good man.” She smiled and even from where he stood, Cole could see the tears glinting in her eyes. “And he was a good cop.”

The images slowed down once more, pausing on one of the man in uniform. “Brant was a man who loved life. He loved me. He loved his job and he loved his badge.” She smiled and it was all that much more beautiful because it wobbled around the edges. “We weren’t one of those marriages you hear about—and a lot of those aren’t always the normal. You hear about the typical cop married to his job, the wife just getting the scraps and leftovers. That wasn’t our marriage. We were happy and I know if he hadn’t been shot in the line of duty, we’d still be married...still be happy. Brant was my heart.”

The images started back up. Images of him with a boy, walking around a mall. Playing baseball. Fishing. Talking to kids at a school. “Brant touched a lot of lives. Some of you are here because of that. Some of you are here because you know how those men and women touch lives. Some of you are here because you, like me, lost somebody. You know how hard it is. You know the pain, you know the grief. And you know how important it is to know you’re not alone—my friends pulled me through those early, awful days.”

She paused and looked down. When she looked back up, she wasn’t smiling. “You’ll never know how grateful I am to you for