Big Girls Don't Cry Read Online Free PDF

count?”
    “Jake.”
    She frowned. “What?”
    “The name’s Jake.”

 
     
    Chapter 3
     
    Jake watched her walk down the hallway. Even in those outrageous high heels, she had the loose animal grace of a sensuous cat on the prowl. Her long slender legs in the short skirt hovering several inches above her knees scored a second look from every man in the hallway. Their perusal didn’t stop at her legs. Her bright red suit in a sea of grey and brown showcased her curvy hips and high full breasts, capturing admiring glances and appreciative grins.
    He remembered Anthony telling him that his sister was a martial artist. He saw it in her bearing, her fierceness. He shook his head, remembering the way she cowed that roomful of men. Hardened cops, military grunts like himself. He smiled, wondering when the chief would recover from the dressing down he’d received from the beautiful young woman half his size and half his age.
    And, damn, she was beautiful. She reminded Jake of her brother. Anthony had been a strikingly handsome man. His sister was stunning. Her hair was streaked with myriad shades of blond, like sunlight skimming a golden pond. She’d twisted it up on the top of her head, held in a casual clip. Stray curls, wisps of gold sprung free, shadowing her face and neck. He wondered for a guilty moment what it would look like, hanging free, soft, and wavy around her shoulders.
    Her skin was pale, fair, a natural rosiness highlighting her high cheekbones. Her lips were full, as though she bit them often in frustration or, he thought with a grin, more likely, annoyance. But it was her eyes that obsessed him. Shadowed by dark brows and lashes, they were stormy grey, almost black. Granted, most of the time they were flashing with anger that intensified the color. What haunted him as he walked back to the conference room was the pain that underlay the anger.
    Jake grew up in North Carolina’s Smoky Mountains. He’d done his share of hunting as a kid. More than a few times, he’d freed animals from cruel traps other hunters set. Perilously near death, these animals stubbornly clung to life. He never forgot their eyes. They reminded him of Alexis: proud, angry, and vulnerable.
    ~~~
    Jake strode into the conference room and grinned at the cluster of men huddling by the coffee pot poking through a box of tired looking sugary doughnuts. He motioned to the table. Without comment, all of the men hurried back to their places, joining the chief, who was comparing notes with his deputy.
    Jake took his time refilling his cup, giving the men time to settle in. When the room was quiet, he walked back to his chair at the head of the table. He glanced at the chief, who silently conceded his authority to Jake.
    Jake leaned back in his chair, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
    “Well, gentlemen, we have our work cut out for us.”
    There were a few guffaws and appreciative mutters of “Hell, yeah!”
    Jake shifted forward, waiting until he was sure that he had the attention of every man at the table.
    His voice was low, intense.
    “Anthony Beloi was my team mate, my friend. He had my back on more missions than I can count. In places and situations no human being should endure. He was the hardest assed fighter and most compassionate man I have ever known. He was no jump chump. He was the first one in and the last to leave. There wasn’t a man among us who didn’t like and respect him.”
    Jake hesitated to let his words sink in and to control the painful emotions gripping his chest.
    “I only saw Anthony a couple of times after he left active duty. But I know he was as committed to his work in the Yuma Police Department as he was with the Green Berets.”
    Pausing for emphasis, he laid down his marker.
    “I wasn’t talking out of my ass when I told that young woman, Anthony’s sister, that no report will be written or any files closed by the U. S. Army OR the YPD until the person or persons responsible for his