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Checkmate: This is Dangerous (Logan & Kayla #1)




  Copyright © 2017 Kennedy Fox

  www.kennedyfoxbooks.com

  Checkmate: This is Dangerous

  Checkmate Duet Series, Book 5

  Cover Design & Photography by Sara Eirew Photography

  Copy editor: Mitzi Carroll

  Proofreader: Marisa Nichols

  All rights reserved. No parts of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to another person except when loaned out per Amazon’s lending program. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then it was pirated illegally. Please purchase a copy of your own and respect the hard work of this author.

  Checkmate

  /ˈCHekˌmāt/

  Noun

  (Chess)

  1. A position in which a player's king is in check and the player has no legal move (i.e. cannot move out of or escape the check). A player whose king is checkmated loses the game.

  2. Utter defeat

  TO THE HOPELESS ROMANTICS WHO BELIEVE IN SECOND CHANCES

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  COMING NEXT

  BOOKS BY KENNEDY FOX

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  NEWSLETTER

  PROLOGUE

  KAYLA

  Once upon a time, in a faraway land, lived a damsel in distress who wore her heart on her sleeve despite never feeling loved herself. She didn’t wait around for a knight in shining armor to rescue her from her brokenhearted past; rather, she became the hero. Rescuing animals became her passion and showed her the true meaning of love and compassion. Men didn’t even compare, especially when all they wanted was her body, and she had so much more to offer.

  ...Excuse me while I cringe at another unsolicited dick pic.

  Do men seriously have no dignity anymore? That’s a rhetorical question considering I’ve been sent over thirty of them on this godforsaken dating website. Just this month alone and it’s not even halfway over.

  And I blame Logan Knight.

  Detective godsend, mysterious, brooding. He’s every girl’s wet dream.

  Too bad he’s full of excuses as to why he can’t date anyone right now.

  The timing isn’t right. I’m really focused on my career right now. I don’t have time to date.

  Please.

  Every time I hear one of his lame excuses, I roll my eyes so hard I nearly give myself whiplash.

  More like emotional whiplash.

  One moment we’re friends and texting about meeting up to hang out and the next? He disappears. Again, with the excuses. However, this time he forgot to mention one tiny detail of why he’s so guarded and reluctant to date anyone.

  He has a daughter.

  This revelation wouldn’t be nearly as shocking if I knew anything about him to begin with, and although I’ve had my eyes on him for months, it’s the mystery that keeps me interested. Don’t get me wrong, Logan Knight is freaking gorgeous in every way, but there’s so much more to him than meets the eye, and I can’t help wanting to unravel whatever secrets he’s hiding. He tells me I shouldn’t be with a guy like him, but you know what they say about wanting what you can’t have? You want it even more.

  So, when Logan texts me early one morning and asks to meet up, I don’t hesitate for a second. I take the fastest shower ever and get myself ready in record time because when a guy like Logan comes knocking—you answer.

  I just hadn’t realized exactly what I was getting myself into by answering that message. He’s hoarding secrets like a double layer of Spanx and there’s barely enough wiggle room to breathe, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for the challenge.

  Of course, Logan doesn’t just come out and tell me he’s a single dad. I must do my own detective work and find out for myself, except now he doesn’t know that I know.

  And that’s a secret I’m not sure I should keep to myself or not because if I’ve learned anything from being Logan’s friend, if he wanted me to know about his daughter and his past, he’d tell me. Now that I’ve accidentally found out, I have to pretend as if I don’t know and if there’s one thing I suck at—it’s lying.

  I’ve been shuffled around too many times to count as a child and it was always the same thing. It’s the last time, I promise. It was the biggest lie, and I knew it too, but if I kept telling myself that, I could get through another night of uncertainty. I was determined to make my new family fall in love with me. I’d do whatever it took to find the good in them even when they had nothing good to offer. I wanted a home, but that security never came. I’d tell myself that the next home would be the one. Lies on top of lies, and yet, disappointment felt the same every time.

  I finally grew up and couldn’t lie to myself anymore—that kind of love didn’t exist. I tried and dated guys, but it never felt right.

  If by chance you did find it, you held onto it like your life depended on it. Right now, my lifeline was Logan Knight, and no matter how many times he wanted to lie to himself that the timing wasn’t right for us, I’d be there to remind him otherwise.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOGAN

  I pace back and forth, my shoes hitting the pavement as I cross my arms over my chest and look over at the schmuck sitting down in front of me. The same schmuck I helped put behind bars just six months ago—Tony “Killer” Black. He’s leaning back in the chair with his legs spread wide and his arms lax over his body as if this interrogation is an inconvenience to him.

  “Where were you last Saturday at eight p.m.?” I repeat, louder this time. This guy has a criminal background that goes back to his teen years, and yet, he sits here all smug as if he’s smart enough to get out of it.

  He chuckles, keeping his eyes everywhere except on mine, and finally replies, “I don’t recall.”

  The corner of my lips tilt upward, knowing damn well he’s lying through his teeth. We’ve got him on surveillance camera and have enough to keep him for the next forty-eight hours until we can clear a warrant.

  “Think harder,” I press, leaning down so my mouth is mere inches away from his ear. “Or I’ll make sure they put you in with Papa Bear.”

  His shoulders noticeably tense and his breathing stills. He knows by the seriousness in my tone that I’m not playing. Clyde “Papa Bear” Hernandez may be behind bars, but everyone knows he still runs his empire. Ever si nce Killer testified against Papa Bear, he’s been a target on his hit list. You’d think he would’ve been smart enough to stay away, but, then again, he wouldn’t be a repeat offender if he were.

  “Fine,” he grits, his jaw ticking.

  I smile slightly, knowing that’d do the trick. “I figured you’d have a change of heart.”

  Once the interrogation is over, my shift is close to being done, but I still have stacks of paperwork to finish. Deciding I’ll take it home with me, I head to a cafe and grab a coffee before my long night begins.

  “What can I get for you this evening?” the barista asks, biting her lower lip and giving me googly eyes. She’s here every night I stop by after work and always manages to flirt with me over a simple coffee order.

  “Just a large brew, Clarissa,” I tell her, flashing a wink in her direction because I know it makes her blush. She also throws in a free pastry. She’s sweet and attractive, but the truth is, there’s no room for dating in my life right now. There’s too much going on with work and the center of my whole world—my daughter, Skylar. I hate that she lives two hours away with her mother, but I plan to change that very soon.

  Just as I pick up my order at the bar, I turn around and tense when I see my friend, Kayla. I just saw her in Texas over the weekend for our friend’s wedding, yet it feels like I haven’t seen her in weeks.

  She’s sitting uncomfortably at a table with some guy. Her leg is fidgeting and she looks like she’s getting ready to bail. We met through mutual friends a year or so ago, and as much as she’s tried pursuing a relationship with me, it’s something I’ve kept at a friendship-only level. I haven’t allowed myself to get involved with anyone since Maggie.

  Kayla’s eyes are glancing down at her phone more than at her date, so I take the opportunity and send her a message.

  L: Your date looks like a forty-year old virgin. Also, corduroy bibs? I hadn’t realized we traveled back to the old west.

  I watch as she looks around for me and grins once she finds me.

  K: I’m on a date from hell. He’s been talking to me in ubbi dubbi and I have no idea what the hell he’s saying.

  L: What the fuck is ubbi dubbi?

  K: Exactly! Now HELP me!

  L: I don’t know. He looks really into you. Maybe you just need to give him a chance? ;)

  K: I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW.

  I stifle a laugh and shake my head at her when she looks up at me again.

  L: Liar! It’s not my fault you know how to pick’em!

  K: It’s not my fault either! Stupid eMatcher website set us up. It said we were eighty-five percent compatible!

  L: What was the other fifteen percent? Lives with his mother and jerks off to picture books?

  I hear her gasp from across the room and fight the urge to laugh out loud. She looks up once again and narrows her eyes at me, scowling as she shakes her head and mouths I hate you but her lips curl up into a smile.

  Deciding to help her out, I walk over to their table and pretend to recognize her.

  “Kayla Sinclair?” I ask in a British accent as I approach the table, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

  “Uh...yeah. It’s me,” she responds, playing along. “It’s been a long time.”

  “It sure has. Since freshman year in college, I think.”

  “Right. Ethics class,” she adds.

  “When you dumped me for Professor Hayes,” I say, glancing over at her date who now looks horrified. “I take it you two didn’t work out, huh?”

  She sits up taller in her chair and narrows her eyes at me. “No, it didn’t. Hence why I’m on this date,” she grits between her teeth, shooting daggers at me.

  “I’m Fred.” The guy interrupts our stare down and my attention is brought to him. Oh look, he can speak English. He’s holding his hand out for me to shake, and I gladly take it, knowing it’ll drive Kayla mad. “Who are you exactly?” he asks.

  “Oh, excuse my manners.” I make sure to lay the accent on extra thick just to mess with him. “I’m William Prince. Kayla’s first love. We go way back.”

  “How’d you two meet, if you’re from England?” He furrows his brows, and I can tell he’s getting suspicious.

  “My family moved to America when I was thirteen and the accent just stuck,” I explain. “Not complaining though. Works wonders on the ladies.” I flash a wink and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Speaking of your parents, how are they?” Kayla asks with a fake smile on her face.

  “They’re lovely. Ask about you still, but I can’t really blame them. You were like a daughter to them, and then you just ripped my heart out and stomped all over it and they enjoy reminding me of that.” I lay it on thick with pitiful eyes.

  She cocks her head, pursing her lips tight. “Well, it was a long time ago. Surely they’ll get over it.”

  “Unless you’d like to try things again? See where they go?” I arch a brow with a side smirk.

  Her eyes widen at my words, and I regret them the moment I say them. The last thing I want to do is lead her on and give her the wrong idea, but she proves she’s up for the challenge as soon as she responds.

  “I think I’d like that...” she purrs, placing a hand under her chin and gazing up at me.

  Fred loudly clears his throat, grabbing both of our attention back to him. “We’re on a date, mate.” He sits up taller, although he’s probably no more than five-feet-five inches tall. It’s comical.

  “Not anymore,” I blurt out, holding my hand out to Kayla and nodding my head at her to take it. “Let me take you on a real date. One that doesn’t require clothes.”

  I don’t see Fred’s reaction because I don’t look back once Kayla grabs my hand. I don’t know what comes over me; perhaps it’s the accent or just being in character, but once she’s standing in front of me, I cup her cheek and press my lips to hers.

  She whimpers against me, and I know this isn’t fair to her, but I can’t stop. Her warm lips create a buzz inside me I haven’t felt in years—a feeling I’ve pushed away since the moment I laid eyes on her.

  We’re better off as friends, I remind myself. I can’t get mixed up in a relationship while dealing with Maggie, not when she holds my daughter over my head like she’s a ball of string. Especially with Kayla Sinclair. She’s too sweet for her own good—the poster child of Mother Teresa. She deserves someone who’s uncomplicated and can devote all their attention to her. She deserves better.

  We don’t stop kissing when Fred scrapes his chair across the floor. We don’t stop when he slams the door shut, clearly pissed I picked up his date. We don’t even stop when people walk past us and brush against us. We should stop—and yet—we don’t.

  KAYLA

  Every part of my body is on fire, fueled by the electricity between Logan and me as his lips glide across the softness of mine. The low hum in my stomach aches when he pulls us apart, and I fight the urge to press my lips back to his.

  His lips are red and swollen, probably just like mine are right now. I don’t know what got into him, but Logan and I have never, ever kissed before. Hell, we’ve slow danced before at weddings, but nothing this intimate—ever.

  “I think that did the trick,” he finally says, catching his breath. Fred left over two minutes ago.

  “Yeah, I think so.” I take a small step back, trying to act unaffected, but the hard beating in my chest gives me away. I know he feels it, too. I just don’t understand why he pretends he doesn’t. “Thanks for your help,” I say, breaking the tension.

  “Anytime. It was fun watching him sweat.” He grins, rocking back and forth on his feet, gripping the coffee cup tight in his hand. He’s just as nervous as I am.

  “Don’t you get enough of that at work?” I tease.

  “Can never have enough.” He flashes a pleased smile.

  “You do have some sick fetish for that, don’t you?”

  “I do. Gets all my juices flowing,” he quips.