pocket, shoving her hand inside.
“Don’t do this,” he says.
“Those are words you should have said to yourself,” she replies as she scrambles for the weapon.
I somehow finally loosen the knot and free myself, and then scan the place for my purse, remembering I’d placed it on the table in the entrance to the apartment. As I stand, a loud noise sounds, and I look over to see Gil and Maricel on the floor wrestling for the gun. I take their rumble as my chance to get the hell out of here. I make it as far as the door when the unimaginable happens. The gun sounds and something hits the floor with a loud thud.
Seconds pass. Quietness rings out. Everything dissolves into blackness.
Maybe Maricel was right. If I’d applied the same time and effort to my marriage as I’d applied to Gil, perhaps I wouldn’t be here. As quickly as that thought enters my head, I shoot it down. My marriage was over long before I ever met Gil, and any efforts to revive it would have met the same end as all my efforts in the past. I’d tried everything—threatening to leave, talking until I was out of words, crying until my head hurt, and counseling that never seemed to stick. I’d done it all—for years, and nothing changed. If anything, our relationship worsened with each anniversary.
Yes, it was a sham of a marriage—but at least I was still among the living.
• • •
Are you curious as to how Nia’s search for love started? What about the conclusion of her tempestuous journey? Get the entire story as
NIA FITSON’S JOURNEY CONTINUES
IN THE SEQUEL
LOVE DOT COM
DID YOU KNOW…
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BOOKS FROM LILLY WILDE
The Untouched Series
Untouched
Touched
Touched by Him
Only His Touch, Part One
Only His Touch, Part Two
Forever Touched
The Untouched Series Spinoffs
Dancing In The Dark (Spring 2020)
Before His Touch (Summer 2020)
A Raine Family Christmas (Winter 2020)
No Longer Broken Duet
Shattered Beginnings
Salvaged Hearts
Standalones
Rendezvous Dot Com (Summer 2020)
Love Dot Com (Summer 2020)
INTERCEPTION
* * *
SANTANA BLAIR
ONE
Kenadi
ONE MORE STEP would mean certain death.
It wouldn’t come from the Spanx she wore or the stupidly expensive, gorgeous pair of shoes currently cutting off the circulation to her toes.
No, one more step would put her face-to-pecs with the sexiest man alive and the object of all her fantasies over the past two years.
Caleb Kennedy.
With her brother’s recent trade to Caleb’s team, it seemed like everything in the universe was finally aligning towards the moment Caleb would notice her and subsequently fall madly in love.
Tossing her waist-length braids over her shoulder, she tried to shake off her nerves. Unlike her brother, she hadn’t inherited the confidence gene.
She never resented him for it, though.
She’d dealt with mean girls targeting her for the extra weight she’d carried around through high school and the nearly constant diet suggestions from her mother based off whatever TV doctor she’d decided to listen at the moment. If it hadn’t been for Quentin, both things would have probably broken her.
College had been her escape. The distance had given her the space and ability to figure out how to start liking the girl she saw in the mirror every day. When she’d graduated recently, she’d walked across the stage as a forty-pounds-lighter, slightly more confident version of Kenadi Russell.
But now was her chance to be Mrs. Kenadi Kennedy.
Kenadi forced her eyes to stop gawking at him and took a nervous final step.
It was now or never. Carpe hottie.
“Hi, Caleb—” The words barely left her mouth before the impact. Her shriek lodged in her throat as the pool water engulfed her.
She broke the surface, looking for her assailant, her vision half-blurred by the loss of a contact lens.
Cash Latham.
He was tall, tatted, and bearded. Not as beautiful as her Caleb, but handsome—and the reason she wasn’t on her way to becoming Mrs. Kennedy right now. Freaking Cash.
She slapped the water, doing her best to aim it straight at the stupidly obnoxious grin he wore. Then, turning her back on him and the rest of the party, she awkwardly moved toward the pool steps, the embarrassment clinging to her skin tighter than her now-soaked dress.
CASH
Growing up, he had always been told there was never a bad time to play football. But his