HOWTO SAVE A LIFE

by

KELLY JAMIESON

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.amberquill.com

How To Save A Life

An Amber Quill Press Book

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidentsare products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events isentirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press,LLChttp://www.AmberQuill.comhttp://www.AmberHeat.comhttp://www.AmberAllure.com

All rights reserved.No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced inany form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher,with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Kelly Jamieson

ISBN 978-1-60272-550-8

Cover Art (c) 2009 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting

Provided by: Elemental Alchemy

Published in the United States of America

Alsoby Kelly Jamieson

WorthWaiting For

Chapter1

She was looking for a man.

Marli couldn't sit at home submergedin grief and guilt any longer. Returning to the location of her ultimate shamemade her skin crawl and her stomach tighten unpleasantly, but she didn't knowhow else to get out of the sinkhole her life had become, how else to digherself out of this crater of depression and blame.

She surveyed Cactus Jack's Saloon,scanning the face of every man leaning against a rough wooden post chatting upa woman, every guy sitting at the long bar nursing a beer, every male partnertwo-stepping on the dance floor to the twang of steel guitars.

Marli swept her gaze across thecrowded tables. From her seat at the end of the bar, she had a view of theentire saloon. Perfect.

She sipped her Diet Coke. She likedsleek, sexy clubs with throbbing techno dance music and people dressed intrendy clothes, not blue jeans and cowboy boots. But Cactus Jack's had beenKrista's favorite place.

Memories of the last night she'dbeen there played through Marli's head like a movie trailer. Krista laughingand dancing with that guy...Ron. The way Ron had looked Marli up and down.Krista accusing her of flirting with Ron. Krista leaving with Ron, and the wayhe'd turned and smirked at Marli as they'd walked out.

Marli shuddered.

Someone slid onto the barstool nextto her, and Marli's stomach jolted with nerves. Her gaze flew to his face,expecting dark eyes and a blond moustache. But she met flame-blue eyes in aclean-shaven face. Strong. Square jaw, nice mouth. Gorgeous.

She drew in a shaky breath andturned away from the handsome stranger, relief and adrenaline sliding throughher body.

"Sorry," he murmured."Didn't mean to startle you. Is this seat taken?"

"No." She didn't look athim. He wasn't what she was looking for. She tightened her grip on theicy-slick glass of cola and directed her gaze back out to the rowdy bar.

"Are you meeting someonehere?" the man asked. "If he shows up, just let me know and I'llmove."

"I'm not meeting anyone,"she said quietly. "I'm kind of looking for someone, but he's nothere."

"Well, if you see him, just letme know."

Yeah, right."Sure."

The bartender appeared in front ofthem. "Surf Coast Pale Ale," the stranger requested. "Can Iorder food here?"

"You bet." The bartenderslapped a laminated menu onto the bar, looked at Marli. "Another DietCoke?"

She nodded, swirled the melting icein her glass and finished it off.

"I'll have a steak--mediumrare. And fries." The man handed the menu over to the bartender, whodisappeared with it.

Marli felt the stranger's eyes onher again. She doggedly avoided looking at him, instead continuing her scan ofthe bar.

"You like country music?"

She repressed a sigh. Had thishappened a few weeks ago, making small talk with a handsome man would have beena given. The way he looked--a definite given. But not now.

"I hate country music."

"Ah. So...what's a gorgeousgirl like you doing here...all alone in a country bar...drinking DietCoke?"

"There's an originalline." She tried to give him a freezing look. She wasn't very good at it.On the contrary--apparently something about her attracted men like wasps tosyrup, without her even trying. Which had led to the whole big freaking messher life was in.

"It wasn't a line," hemuttered. "I'm not trying to pick you up. Just making conversation."

She pressed her lips together andlooked away, then back, studying him out of the corner of her eye. Talk abouttall, dark and handsome. But not handsome in a pretty-boy way. His face wastough looking, square-jawed, serious, his mouth firm and straight. But whenhe'd smiled...whew. It was enough to make a girl's panties damp and her nippleshard.

And he was big. He took up all hisown space and some of hers. His faded jeans covered thick, muscular thighs. Hiswhite button-up shirt didn't hide the flat muscles of his chest and the bulgeof biceps beneath the thin cotton. Big hands held his beer bottle, which he'dbeen drinking very slowly, the turned-back cuffs of his shirt revealing strongwrists. He gave off an aura of safety. Protection. Awareness tingled;attraction sparked inside her. Damn. Talk about crappy timing.

"We could talk about somethingelse," he said finally. "How about sports?"

"Go, Dodgers."

"No! You gotta be a Padresfan."

She had to ask. "You're fromSan Diego?"

"Yeah."

"So what are you doing here inRocky Harbor?"

His mouth twisted. "I'm on aleave from my job. I'm on my way up to San Francisco to visit a buddy of mine.Got this far and stopped here for a while."

"Oh. What do you do for aliving?"

He didn't answer for a long moment,and Marli cursed herself for asking. Why was she even talking to this guy? Wasshe nuts? After what happened to Krista, she was crazy to be sittinghere talking to a stranger like this.

"I'm an FBI agent."

Oh. Well. "Really,"she said slowly. Her tense body relaxed minutely. With his size, his rough goodlooks, the intensity of his gaze, he should have made her feel intimidated, buthe didn't. Other than the dangerous sexuality that was most definitelythreatening. An FBI agent. Huh.

He shrugged, turned the beer bottlein his hands. "How about you? What do you do?"

"I'm a photographer."

"What do you photograph?"

"Commercial stuff.

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