The Best Man in Texas - Kelsey Roberts

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his chin. “So what exactly is this hitch?”

      “Memory disruption.”

      “Come again?” Sheriff Younger pressed.

      “More commonly known as amnesia.”

      The sheriff’s dark brows drew together. “Is this a joke, Justin? I’m not really in the mood for games. I was late getting here because of a suicide in Pinto.”

      “You don’t have jurisdiction in Pinto,” Justin said.

      “The Pinto suicide is related to this investigation,” Sheriff Younger explained. “I got a call from the Harrisons.”

      “How are Kathy and David?” Justin asked.

      Molly felt as if she were watching a Ping-Pong match. Couldn’t these guys stick to one topic of conversation?

      “Bummed,” the sheriff answered. “They had a runner last night, then woke up this morning to find their latest guest had committed suicide.”

      “I hope you aren’t talking about a hotel,” Molly said.

      “The Harrisons run a shelter,” Justin explained, but his attention remained fixed on the sheriff. “So what does the suicide have to do with Molly getting hit by a car?”

      “I’ll get to that,” the sheriff answered. He moved slightly closer to Molly and his piercing black eyes met hers. “I ran your name through our computer.”

      Molly stilled, curious, anxious and panicked all at the same instant. “Am I in trouble?”

      He shrugged. “Nothing came back. Not in this county, at least. Where are you from?”

      “I don’t know.”

      The sheriff looked annoyed. “This is serious, young lady. This isn’t a time for faking.”

      “I’m not faking!” Molly insisted rather haughtily. “I honestly can’t remember.”

      Sheriff Younger turned to Justin. “This is a pretty big hitch.”

      “Yep.”

      “Great. Well, you had a Texas license, Austin address. I’ll run a check there.” The sheriff turned as if to leave.

      “Wait!” Molly grabbed his sleeve. “I think I need help.”

      “She’s right,” Justin added. “I found some old injuries.” He went on to detail the results of his physical examination.

      The sheriff took some time absorbing the information, then said, “Well, that might fit with what I learned at the Harrisons.”

      “Which was?” Justin queried.

      “That Ms. Parker is their runner. But there’s a problem.”

      “Problem?” Molly repeated.

      “Yep. The woman who committed suicide at the shelter last night was a woman named Sara Pierce.”

      “What does that have to do with Molly?” Justin pressed.

      “She killed herself with an overdose of prescription drugs.”

      “Unfortunately a common means of ending one’s life,” Justin offered.

      “Sure,” the sheriff said, speaking directly to Molly, “but the prescription belonged to you.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      “SO, AM I like a suspect or something?”

      The sheriff shrugged. “Depends on the results of the Pierce woman’s autopsy.”

      Molly felt an odd sensation. It was like a flashbulb going off in her mind. It was so quick she couldn’t hold the image.

      “Are you okay?” Justin asked as he took her hand in his. In one fluid motion he had managed to shove the sheriff off to the side to give her his full attention.

      “Y-yes.” Molly rubbed her palm across her forehead. “I just blanked for a minute.”

      Justin turned to the sheriff and said, “Alec, maybe now isn’t a good time for this.”

      “I’ll be back.”

      The sheriff’s proclamation did little to calm Molly’s frazzled state. Who were the Harrisons? Who was Sara Pierce and what did any of them have to do with her?

      Without dropping her hand, Justin pulled his stool to the edge of her bed and lowered his more than six-foot frame onto it. “Don’t make yourself crazy, Molly. Just relax and things will probably fall into place.”

      She felt herself frown. “Probably?”

      Justin treated her to a handsome grin. “Worrying won’t alter the outcome,” he said.

      She watched, transfixed, as his gaze dropped to their entwined hands. Once realization struck, he snatched his hand away, then all but tucked it behind his sizeable frame.

      “I’ve got to check on the baby before Mrs. Beasley comes in.”

      Abruptly, Justin walked away. Molly said nothing. She was occupied taking in the sight of his broad back, incredible tush and slight swagger. It seemed more likely than not that Justin was perplexed. And she didn’t think it was because of her condition. Had he been feeling the same energy that heated the pit of her stomach?

      “The same energy?” Molly groused softly as she threw her arm over her face. “Is lust a form of energy?”

      “It can be.”

      Molly shot upright when she heard the response to her very rhetorical and very private question.

      Julie was standing next to the bed with a pitcher, a glass and a lecherous smile. “Justin thought you might be thirsty.” She placed the beverage on the side table and pulled the stool over. “If you’re going to lust after Justin, be prepared to stand in line.”

      Molly felt her cheeks burn. “I hardly know him, I—I—”

      “Wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t notice he’s gorgeous, smart, kind, compassionate and sexy as hell,” Julie finished in a conspiratorial tone.

      Molly thought for a second, then said, “Have I just stepped on your toes?”

      Tossing her head back, Julie laughed softly. “Me? The only man in my life is Thomas.”

      “His father?” Molly asked.

      “Has never even seen him. If I have anything to say about it, my husband won’t ever be a part of Thomas’s life.”

      “I guess that gives us something in common,” Molly sighed. “Whatever man I was involved with beat me up, too, according to Justin.”

      “My husband never hit me,” Julie corrected, an intense sadness creeping into her eyes. It was a pained, haunted expression.

      “I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions,” Molly said. “Besides, it really isn’t any of my business.”

      Julie shrugged. “You’re the first person I’ve talked to like this in months. It helps.”

      “Feel free to use me as a sounding board. Lord knows my board is empty.”

      Julie laughed. “You’re pretty funny, Molly. I’m amazed you can still laugh given what’s happened to you.”

      “It helps not to be able to remember a bloody thing.”

      “I wish I could do that,” Julie mused. “Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and change the past. If only I hadn’t walked in on my husband when I did.”

      “With another woman?”

      She shook her head. “That I could have accepted.”

      “Another man?”

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