Finding You (Priestly Family #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Z ion Priestly tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he bobbed his head to the music that was playing through the speakers of his police cruiser. For the most part, his twelve-hour shift had been an ordinary day on the streets of Chicago.

There’d only been one domestic violence call he’d had to respond to earlier in the day. Eight moving violations, and then there was the hit-and-run incident he’d assisted with a short while ago. He might actually end his shift on time for a change.

He glanced out at the semi-cloudy sky where he could see a hint of the sun as it began its descent. With it being the end of March, it was starting to stay light a little longer, and hopefully, they’d start getting some warmer days.

“Oh, sh… Dude, what are you doing?” Zion grumbled.

Car horns blared and more than one person flipped the driver in the blue Dodge Charger off as he weaved from one lane to the other. Good thing traffic wasn’t as bad as it had been a half hour ago. Otherwise, Zion would be responding to a car accident versus a possible DUI traffic stop.

He watched from a short distance behind the driver, thinking the swerve into the other lane was a one-time mishap. Hopefully, the guy would straighten up, but as soon as the thought entered his mind, the driver weaved in and out of his lane.

Zion glanced at the time on the dashboard, grumbling more as he noted it was almost seven in the evening. There were twenty minutes left on his shift, and he’d hoped the previous traffic stop would be the last one for the day.

Apparently not.

“Son of a…” On reflex, Zion gripped his steering wheel and gritted his teeth when the driver barely missed ramming into the back of the vehicle in front of him. “So much for getting off work on time.”

He turned on his lights and siren and got right on the driver’s bumper. It took a minute for the guy to notice him in his rear-view mirror, and Zion knew the moment he had. The man jerked and tapped on his brakes before slowing and putting on his turn signal. Instead of pulling over to the side of the road, he made a right onto a residential street before parking in front of a duplex.

“Just once, it would be nice to get off work on time.”

Running the license plate, Zion found the vehicle registration to be up to date. Assuming this was indeed a DUI, he called for backup in case things went sideways, which happened often. He already knew a few officers were in the area, including his best friend, Lynix Mathews. He and Lynix first met in the police academy and had been tight ever since.

By the time Zion climbed out of his cruiser, Lynix was there. His friend gave a head nod, and while Zion approached the driver’s door, Lynix moved to the vehicle’s passenger side, stopping near the rear bumper.

When Zion reached the driver’s side door, he only asked for the man’s driver’s license, which the guy already had out.

“Mr. Ryan, do you know why I pulled you over?” Zion asked after skimming the license. The overpowering smell of alcohol drifted from the driver’s window and permeated the air. The scent was so strong that it was as if the guy had taken a swim in a pool of liquor.

The man shook his head, then peered at Zion with red-rimmed eyes. “Na—nah, man, I don’t know why you’re bothering me. Go chase some real criminals.”

Though the answer was as clear as crystal, Zion asked, “Sir, have you been drinking?”

“I had a beer or two,” he said, his words slurred despite trying to hide that fact by speaking slowly.

“You sure you didn’t have more? Because I can smell the alcohol on you.” The guy said something unintelligible, and Zion moved back. “Sir, please turn off the car and remove the keys from the ignition. Then I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

After a couple of minutes of arguing, mainly with himself, the tall, lanky man in his mid-fifties finally conceded and exited the vehicle. The moment his feet touched the ground, he staggered before righting himself.

There was no need to do a field sobriety test. The guy could barely stand up straight, and he had already admitted to drinking.

Zion pocketed the man’s keys.

“Sir, please turn and face your car. Do you have any weapons or needles on you?” Zion asked, preparing to pat him down while Lynix peered through the windows of the vehicle. His friend gave a slight shake of his head, letting Zion know there wasn’t any liquor, drugs, or weapons visible.

“Come on, Pig , you ain—ain’t gotta take me in. I’ll just walk home,” Mr. Ryan insisted, his fair skin pale while he looked as if he’d pass out at any moment.

“You should’ve done that in the first place. Now turn around.”

“I—I think I’m—I’mma be sick,” the man said seconds before he vomited in the street, a couple of chunks hitting Zion’s shoe in the process.

Ahh, hell. Zion jumped away as if being burned when the guy threw up more, barely missing him. The man slumped against the car and the disgusting, sour smell of beer and something else almost took Zion’s breath away. He’d smelled and seen worse, but he still struggled not to gag.

“Turn your ass around,” he ground between gritted teeth while jerking the man around to face the vehicle. He carefully patted him down, then read him his rights as he slapped handcuffs on him.

Zion’s attitude soured as much as the horrific smell of the vomit, even more as he walked the guy to his police cruiser. Knowing he’d have to endure the rank smell for the twenty-minute drive back to the station only pissed him off more. It didn’t help that Lynix was chuckling as he climbed into his own clean, probably fresh-smelling cruiser.

Sometimes, I hate this job.

An hour later, after showering and changing into his street clothes, Zion slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and headed for the locker room’s exit. He had already talked to his neighbor’s kid, asking him to take Onyx, Zion’s dog, out for a walk. Now Zion was heading to his parents’ place.

He had a couple of days off, and he was looking forward to relaxing. Though it was still cold out, the city was expecting a rare warm day of sixty degrees tomorrow. This time of the year, it could be sixty-five one day and snowing the next. So he planned to do something outside. Maybe he’d see if his dad wanted to go fishing. That was something he and the old man did as often as the weather would allow.

“Z, wait up.” Zion slowed and turned at the sound of Lynix’s voice. When he caught up, they exited the locker room together and headed to the door that would take them to the employee parking lot. “We’re going to Roby’s tonight. You coming?”

Roby’s was Roby’s Pub, a cop bar they often hung out at after their shifts. Zion wasn’t in the mood for drinking, though he never had more than two beers. Nor did he feel like hanging out with the guys. It had been like that a lot lately. Perhaps turning thirty a few weeks ago had something to do with it, but he didn’t think so. His lack of interest in hanging with the guys had been like this for months, and he knew why. His mystery woman.

“Nah, man. I told my parents I’d stop by after work. I’m going to pass on Roby’s.”

Lynix nodded. “That’s cool, but if you change your mind, I’m sure we’ll still be there watching a couple of basketball games.”

“All right,” Zion said, though he had no intention of stopping by.

If his mother hadn’t texted him, telling him that she had put a plate aside for him, he’d be heading home. But no way was he turning down a home cooked meal. Yes, he could hold his own in the kitchen, but his mother’s cooking was second to none.

“Oh, and bring Dorian if you do come to the bar. She can pretty up the place,” Lynix said of Zion’s youngest sister.

Zion growled under his breath and pointed at his friend, who’d had a crush on Dorian since they’d met years ago. “You clearly have a death wish. I meant what I said. Stay the hell away from my sister… all of them, asshole.”

Lynix’s laughter could still be heard when he walked away, strolling across the parking lot to where his truck was parked.

Dorian could do a lot worse than Lynix, Zion thought as he climbed into his Ford 150. Actually, he couldn’t think of a better guy for his youngest sister, but it would be too weird—her dating one of his best friends. He doubted it would ever happen since Dorian thought Lynix was an egotistical jerk. He wasn’t, but Zion never corrected her.

A short while later, he entered his parents’ Greystone bed and breakfast. They actually lived in the cottage out back, but when he checked, no one was there. So he assumed they were still at the B & B.

The moment he stepped inside, the enticing aroma of barbecue had his stomach growling as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. He hung it in the coat closet before he moved farther into the foyer and stopped short. His mother stood near the registration desk, holding an infant.

“Mom, please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”

He was only half joking. She’d been on a mission, insisting he and his sisters get married and give her grandbabies. It started when they all reached their mid-twenties, especially his sisters who were all older than him. However, no one seemed to be in a hurry to settle down and have kids. Including him.

Zion had recently turned thirty. He had barely blown out the candles on the birthday cake that his mother had baked before she started asking if he was dating anyone. That was code for— do you have a potential baby momma lined up yet?

Getting married and having children were the last things on his mind. As a Chicago police officer, his workdays were long and exhausting. Some days, he barely had the energy to drag his tired body home after a shift. Going home and having to fulfill husband and daddy duties? No thank you.

“Well, since my own children won’t give me more grandkids, I’m forced to borrow babies,” his mother said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Zion chuckled. “You’re a trip.”

He kissed his mother’s cheek. In doing so, he glanced at the gorgeous baby girl with big light-brown eyes, a tiny nose, and bow-shaped lips. She was dressed in all pink and had to be the prettiest baby he’d ever seen.

“She’s a cutie-pie.”

Unable to help himself, he smiled at the little one and touched her tiny hand, and she immediately grabbed hold of his finger. He couldn’t help quietly baby-talking to her. When the baby offered him a smile, Zion’s heart nearly stopped.

“See, you’re a natural,” his mother said. “All you have to do is find a wife and start having a few cutie-pies like this one. Don’t you want to hold her?”

He shook his head, took a giant step back, but couldn’t take his gaze from the baby while saying, “Mom, don’t start.”

The temptation to hold the child was stronger than he’d admit, but he was definitely tempted. He loved kids, especially when they belonged to someone else.

“Okay, Mrs. Priestly. Thank you so much for entertaining her while I fixed a bottle. I…”

The stunning woman stopped talking and offered Zion a quick glance and smile before returning her attention to the baby. But just as quickly, her gaze snapped back to him. When she did, shock roiled inside of him, and his pulse thumped double-time.

It’s her.

He’d recognize those gorgeous eyes anywhere. Even though she looked a bit haggard, it was the woman he’d met in Vegas during a conference almost a year ago. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, and now she was standing only a couple of feet away.

Her mouth dropped open, and if it was possible, her eyes grew as large as dinner plates.

“ You ,” she whispered.

Zion couldn’t believe he was standing in front of the mystery woman he hadn’t been able to forget. At least he was fairly sure it was her. Gorgeous face, though she looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. Her long hair was in small braids and pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Light-brown, almost hazel eyes—that showed up often in his dreams—stared back at him. And then there were her lips. Kissable lips that he had feasted on, and a body just as alluring as his mouth, tongue, and hands remembered.

“Andrew?” the woman whispered, looking at him as if she was seeing a ghost.

He knew the feeling and damn, he had forgotten he’d given her his middle name. Was her name really Raven?

Too stunned to ask, Zion was stuck on the fact that they’d found each other despite only exchanging first names. Or in his case, a middle name. No last name. No telephone numbers. Nothing. He’d had no way of finding her after sharing the most incredible night he’d ever experienced with a woman.

What were the chances of them ending up in the same city, let alone his parents’ B & B? No way. There was no way she was really here after almost a year of him dreaming about her.

“I take it you two know each other,” his mother said in a sing-song voice, which snapped Zion out of his daze.

Then something else occurred to him. Instead of responding to his mother, his attention remained on Raven. “You have a baby?”

She glanced at her baby girl who his mother was feeding, and then Raven returned her gaze back to him. “Yeah, actually, I have two.”