THERE'S ONLY BEEN YOU - (Jamison Series, Book 1) Lies destroyed their past--will the truth end their chance at a future? Sara Jamison has no clue where Mike Andrews' been all these years, but she knows where she's been--busy raising their son. Two weeks after he accused her of cheating and disappeared from her life, Sara discovered she was something she never expected to be--an unwed pregnant teenager. But with the love and support of her annoyingly alpha-male family, she's managed to make a good life for herself and her young son. She even owns her own business, Sara's Bakery, which she's built into a thriving success. Sure, she works too hard and her social life is nonexistent, but for the most part, she's content. Until the day Detective Mike Andrews walks into her bakery and back into her life... Of all the bakeries in town... Sara blew out a frustrated breath as she faced the troublesome machine. "Couldn't have waited 'til Monday, could you? Rotten appliance." Ten minutes later, she smiled with triumphant satisfaction as the sweet aroma of vanilla coffee filled the bakery. First thing Monday morning, she'd call the dealer and ask when they could deliver a new machine. The bell above the door chimed. "See, Amanda. You just have to show this devil who's bos..." The words died on her lips. Legs braced apart, a disdainful scowl curling his lip, Mike stood just inside the door. Her heart lurched and her breath caught. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening-- "You sound just like that arrogant brother of yours." Deep breath, compose yourself. "I'll take that as a compliment." She narrowed her eyes. "Now get the hell out." "You need to work on your people skills, lady." He strode forward and stopped in front of the display case, looking around in obvious astonishment. "Well, I'll be dipped. When I saw the Sara's Bakery sign, I said to myself, no friggin' way. But morbid curiosity got the better of me. So a bakery, huh? Not much of a surprise, really--" "What do you want, Mike?" He turned toward her and she finally got a good look at the side of his face. My God, had Garrett done that? She couldn't help feeling a measure of satisfaction. Oh, who was she kidding? She hoped it hurt like hell. He must have realized where her gaze rested because he reached up and fingered his jaw. "Don't get too excited, he sucker-punched me." He leaned over and tapped the glass above her jumbo chocolate muffins. "I'll take one of those and a large coffee. Regular, not that flavored crap." With an angry huff, she stalked over to pour him a cup. Why did he have to look so damn good? Was it too much to ask for a receding hairline and a donut around the middle? He wore his thick, blue-black hair shorter than he used to, which only made the resemblance between him and Ethan more pronounced. He'd put on a good twenty-five to thirty pounds of solid muscle as the black T-shirt stretched tautly over his chest could attest to. And those eyes--cobalt and incredible--had continued to haunt her over the years. Ethan's were the exact same color.