Jen_C’s Reviews > Takedown > Status Update

Jillian was standing a few feet away, hugging her arms around her middle. The sprinkle of rain still falling couldn’t mask the tears running down her face. Michael felt a tug on his sleeve and bent down to hear Mike whisper, “Now go give her the same speech. Mom would like her. I like her. Don’t screw it up.”

Jillian?” Mike caught her wrist as she climbed over his legs. She had every intention of pulling the door shut and hiding in the closet with them. But then she heard the footsteps and knew she couldn’t risk discovery and anyone else being hurt. She twisted free and squeezed his hand. “Text your father. Tell him Loverboy is here. He’ll know what to do. And please, not one sound.

Jillian walked in. Michael’s heart flip-flopped inside his chest. He’d already lost Pam. He’d nearly lost his son. Both, to events beyond his control. And he’d been powerless. He couldn’t lose anyone else he loved on his watch. He couldn’t do it. It almost hurt his eyes to look at Jillian and feel this way. Bait.

She murmured a drowsy protest that her own legs were working and he shushed her with a kiss. He climbed into the bed behind her and spooned his body to hers, pulling the covers up over them both. “Sleep, sweetheart.” Brushing her tangled hair off her face, he whispered a promise against her ear. “You’re safe.”

Michael broke off the kiss, picked her up and set her down in the wheelchair himself. He had one more sobering warning to whisper as he pushed her inside the hospital. And a promise. “Tonight we were lucky. My men were close by. But I’m not going to trust that will happen the next time. When I take Troy home with us tonight, you’re coming, too.

Whatever Michael felt for her, he didn’t want to feel. He was just a good cop. A good man. Doing the right thing. He’d protect her. He’d be her friend. But love her? Maybe her heart should set its sights a little lower and forget about a happily-ever-after with this man.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to feel okay.” “I do.” Edward was looking over her shoulder. “Turn around.” Frowning at the odd request, Jillian turned. Her breath caught in her chest. Michael Cutler was striding down the hallway. Tall, intent, black hair rumpled. Wearing his uniform and needing a shave. Walking straight toward her.

God, he wanted to be young again. He wanted to feel strong and invincible, the way he had when Jillian Masterson had walked into his arms and held on to him as though he just might have the answers she needed. He wanted to feel the hope pounding through his cynical veins again.

He wasn’t the kind of man to be attracted to a rebellious wild child. But he would be kind and professional to anyone who needed his help—even a handful of past and potential trouble like her. “Call me if you think of anything else, or you feel like you’re being followed again, whatever—day or night, you call.

It was hard to look into her frightened expression and not want to touch her or hold her and drive away that fear. Ultimately, however, his feelings were irrelevant. He just had to keep Jillian safe so that she could continue to make the miracle of Mike, Jr.’s, recovery happen. That meant thinking like a cop—like a veteran SWAT team commander.