Till I Found You: The Broken Hero Series—Book One

by Fernandez, Michelle

  Booker chuckled. “Is that what I look like to you, a player?”

  “Well, if the shoe fits.”

  “Has anyone ever told you not to judge a book by its cover?” he’d said with humor in his voice. “Or in this case, don’t judge Booker by its cover?”

  “That was cheesy.” Chloe’d giggled at his attempt at a joke. “Well, if I am so wrong, why do your friends call you Booker?”

  “Despite popular belief, present company included, I like to read. One of my jerk friends gave me a hard time when he saw me reading a book and it stuck.” He’d almost told her his real name but decided not to. His callsign was part of who he was, too.

  “Interesting.” Chloe tapped her chin with her manicured finger.

  “Why so?” he asked.

  “Something we have in common.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you like to read?”

  “It’s silly—romantic suspense. My girlfriends, Phoebe and Ryland, tell me to get my head out of the clouds and come back to earth because there’s no such thing as a hunky, secret-undercover agent who will come to my rescue.” She fiddled with her earring.

  “Do you need to be rescued?” Booker insinuated, gazing into her eyes.

  “Maybe.” Chloe sounded a slight cough, looked down at her dress, a failed attempt to hide flushed cheeks. “How can a gorgeous dress be so uncomfortable?”

  “Well, I hope I’m not overstepping when I say this, but I think you look absolutely beautiful.”

  Chloe smiled. “Thank you.”

  “So, tell me, Chloe Channing, what are you doing out here? Ditching your date?”

  “Now who’s judging a book by its cover?” She put her hand on her jutted hip.

  “Touché.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. “What would you be doing if you weren’t here?”

  “Definitely not wearing this dress or these shoes. I’m more a hoodie-and-fat-pants kind of girl.”

  “Fat-pants, huh?”

  “Oh yeah, everyone should have a pair. I love wearing them.”

  I’d like to wear you.

  As discreetly as he could, his eyes quickly roamed her hourglass figure. Thunder in his veins, his heart bruised his chest and his balls tightened.

  “I’d like to see what these fat-pants look like on you.”

  “Well isn’t that an odd way to ask a girl out on a date, Booker?”

  “Only if you’re ditching your date.”

  “I don’t have a date. I…”

  “Chloe, I’m giving you a hard time. Besides, I have a rule. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and tilted her head. “Well, that’s too bad. I would’ve said yes.”

  His eyes locked hard on hers. And her smile made his body jolt as electric energy permeated in the air. Booker couldn’t shake the feelings soaring through his body.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? How is she making me feel like this?

  He looked again at her beautiful face, cleared his throat. “If you’re not ditching a date, why are you out here and not enjoying the festivities?”

  Chloe squared her shoulders. “Actually, I am ditching someone… My mother. She’s making me meet so many people.” Chloe fiddled with the diamond charm on her necklace. “I’m sorry. Here you have a job to do and I’m a babbling four-year-old girl talking your ear off.” She peered over his shoulder again, watching as a few guests passed by them.

  “I actually like your babbling mouth. It gets boring out here and I like the distraction.”

  “So.” Chloe bit her lip again. “How long do you have to work out here? I saw your partners roaming in the ballroom. I think all the guests are probably checked in by now. Maybe we can get a drink aft—”

  “Sweetheart, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” a woman’s voice cut in. Both turned to the graceful woman coming from the ballroom. She wore an elegant, long-sleeve black ball gown. It looked fit for the Oscars, sweeping the floor as she walked toward them. As the woman got closer, Booker recognized her as Doctor Channing.

  Chloe rolled her eyes and shrugged in defeat. “Hi, Mom. I was taking a break from all the pleasantries and talking to, err—Mr. Booker.” She turned to Booker and slid him a look. “This is Sarah Channing, my mother.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Booker.” They shook hands.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Doctor Channing.” He politely nodded.

  Sarah gave a sincere smile. “I hope everything is going well out here?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I believe all the guests have arrived.”

  “Wonderful. Also, please make sure you and your associates get some food, god knows there’s plenty.” Sarah turned to Chloe. “Sweetheart, the announcements are about to start, and I need you to meet Mr. Kollsson. He’s going to secure the finances to ensure the money raised from this event is accessible for the chapters in Oakland and Los Angeles. I want to make sure he adds your information to the accounts, aside from me…” Doctor Channing’s voice had dissipated as she looped an arm through Chloe’s and gently whisked her away. Chloe looked over her shoulder and gestured with her finger she would return.

  Later that evening, Booker kept a watchful eye from the entry doors. From a distance, he’d observed Chloe mingling, laughing, and shaking hands with familiar faces. A hint of jealousy pricked at his gut when he watched her dance with the random men. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, like she was the only one in the room. Every so often, Booker would catch Chloe smiling at him as he stood stock-still against the wall. Everything about her was intoxicating. Her plump red lips, ever-changing blue-green eyes and that sexy-as-hell body.

  Why am I so drawn to this woman? Remember, you’re on assignment. Don’t break your rule.

  The most fucked-up joke Cupid could play on him was to meet the right woman at the wrong time.

  Two years later, and Booker still thought of Chloe. He didn’t realize how deeply he was entwined with her until he’d walked away from her that night. Now, he remembered the intense attraction like it was yesterday. Booker needed to be on this case, but why now? Was it the right time?

  Maybe it was a self-inflicted obligation.

  Maybe it was guilt from his past haunting him to make things right.

  Maybe it was the instant attraction he had felt for her.

  Maybe it was everything.

  “Chlo, hurry your ass up! The Uber driver is here, and we’re gonna be late.”

  “Okay, okay—hold your horses.” Chloe waved the tablet in her hand. “I almost forgot this. I want to catch up on some reading.” She smiled at her roommate, Phoebe, and shoved the device in her large purse.

  “Heaven forbid you forget to bring your knight in shining armor with you,” Phoebe teased sarcastically from the doorway.

  They scurried out of their apartment, which was nestled in a trendy upscale neighborhood in San Francisco. Initially, the rent had exceeded their budget, but they’d loved their apartment the first moment they saw it. It was a typical bachelorette loft, girly yet modern: two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, a guest room, and a dining area that led to a large living-room space and opened up to a quaint balcony overlooking the bay.

  The women didn’t cook much, but their kitchen boasted top-of-the-line appliances. Their Viking fridge housed white wine, various ice cream tubs, two flavors of coffee creamer, leftover pizza from their favorite joint, and take-out from China Town.

  “I hope you have you everything this time,” Phoebe muttered as she locked the exterior deadbolt. “Passport? Ticket? Your brain?”

  “Check, check, and check.” Chloe giggled, examining the contents in her bag.

  “Did you go over the instructions with Celina to get our mail for us? I know she’s only ten years old, but I just want to make sure it doesn’t pile in the mailbox.”

  “Yup,” Chloe confirmed. “And to feed the fishes.”

  “Um…hon, we don’t have fishes.” Phoebe sc
runched her eyebrows.

  “Kidding. Jeez. I know I’m a scatterbrain, but I do remember some things!” She rolled her eyes.

  Just six months ago, a chilly forty-four-degree morning, on her routine jog around the neighborhood, when Chloe had been stabbed by a mugger, she’d suffered a concussion which oftentimes made her forgetful. Her doctor said it was nothing to worry about. Chloe’s failure to recall the simple things like where she’d left her keys was not a concern. It was the loss of important events and memories that bothered her the most.

  Chloe had forgotten to call Ryland—their other best friend—for her birthday. It was a legitimate excuse and acceptable oversight since Ryland hadn’t been around for the last two years. But still.

  Then there were times when Chloe forgot to meet Phoebe for dinner and drinks at the Tipsy Turtle Bar & Grill, their usual hangout. The most frustrating was when Phoebe would reminisce and Chloe would blankly stare at her, dumbfounded by the memory she couldn’t recall.

  The drive to the airport took about twenty minutes. Phoebe planned their vacation to every last detail, with a spa day and various excursions. It was the perfect getaway to unwind at Chloe’s grandfather’s beach house in the Bahamas.

  “I have a feeling this trip will change your life,” Phoebe said. “You’ll come back a new woman.”

  Hanging onto Phoebe’s words, Chloe hoped this trip would help bring peace and healing. She looked out the car window as the city passed by and comfort settled within her to be getting away for a while. Chloe needed a change especially with everything that happened in the last year.

  It had been an emotional nightmare and she needed it to disappear into a dark and hazy fog. The void she harbored from her mother’s death, then her breakup with Luke, and the physical healing and aftershock nightmares she’d dealt with since her assault—it all added up.

  The checkpoint security line moved like snails since the July summer travels commenced. Chloe gazed at a man and woman in the other line, assumed to be on their honeymoon. Their luggage appeared to be new, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and the big shiny rock on the woman’s finger gave it away, as the woman kept observing it. Chloe imagined herself in the bride’s shoes and sighed.

  Someday.

  In front of her, Chloe made goo-goo faces at the squirming baby sucking on a pacifier as he stared over his mother’s shoulders. The baby spat out the pacifier that was clipped to his bib by a small lanyard. The woman turned to see what the baby was giggling about.

  “He’s adorable,” Chloe said. “How old is he?”

  “Thank you. Noah’s two.” The woman bounced her baby in her arms. “Do you have children?”

  “Oh, no,” Chloe replied. “I’m still waiting for Prince Charming to come along.” She glanced at the newlyweds. “I love children. I work at San Francisco General.”

  “Really? Do you know Doctor Gene Peralta? He’s Noah’s pediatrician.”

  “Yes, of course. You’re in good hands.”

  “Are you a pediatrician, too?” The woman switched her baby from one hip to the other.

  “Yes.” Chloe rummaged through her small canvas backpack, pulled out her business card, and handed it to the woman.

  Noah grabbed the business card from his mother and attempted to put it in his salivating mouth. “No, no…that’s for Mommy.” The woman took the card from the baby.

  Chloe giggled. “Babies are so curious, aren’t they?”

  “Ain’t that the truth. One time, Noah got ahold of my lipstick and mastered a Picasso all over the carpet. It took me five tries to clean it up before I decided to call in the professionals.” Both women laughed.

  Chloe took Noah’s small hand in hers. “You’re going to tire out your mommy, aren’t you, Noah?”

  “He’s definitely a handful.” The woman gazed at her baby and kissed the side of his head.

  “Well, have a safe flight, Ms.…” Chloe elongated, trying to get the woman’s name.

  “Kayla Stevenson. Same to you, Ms.” —she looked at the business card— “I mean, Doctor Chloe Channing.”

  Chloe removed her shoes and tablet from her carry-on bag and placed them in the bin. She looked at Phoebe ahead of her and shook her head.

  “This is insane! Do you have to keep waving that thing over my boobs? I know they look explosive… But everything in my blouse is real and natural,” Phoebe grunted out at the female officer.

  Why does she have to be so complicated?

  “Feebs, seriously? Stop being a jackass. And don’t say explosive at the airport. Everyone is staring,” Chloe whisper-yelled. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me someday.”

  Phoebe giggled, got her belongings from the gray bin, and both went to look for their gate.

  The overexuberant, loquacious and inquisitive best friend, Phoebe Kyndal Powell. The two women were polar opposites and Chloe wondered how they remained best friends throughout the years. She couldn’t help but love her though.

  They arrived at their gate with at least another hour to board. Sam, Chloe’s cousin, waved at them, saving three empty seats beside him.

  “Chloe, PK, over here,” Sam yelled, hands in the air.

  “Remind me why he’s here again?” Phoebe huffed.

  “Would you turn down an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas, thanks to my dad?” Chloe reminded her, looking at her dark hair and emerald-green eyes. “I honestly think he’s here to babysit me even though he brought Sage with him. I’m pretty sure once we get there, they’ll be off together doing their thing.”

  “You think he’ll marry her?”

  “Who knows?”

  “I don’t know what he sees in her.”

  Chloe twisted her lips. “Do I detect a bit of jealousy, Feebs?”

  “Sam’s history. I’ve moved on.”

  “Anyway, remember, you agreed to be nice,” Chloe said.

  “Yeah, yeah…as long as they stay out of our way, I will be fine.”

  Chloe couldn’t blame Phoebe for feeling annoyed. The girls-only trip had been botched, thanks to Chloe’s father. This was to be a detox, a withdraw from all of San Francisco, including Samuel Channing. Frank did not budge at the women’s plea, and Chloe knew it was a case they were not going to win.

  Sam was older by two years and the closest Chloe had to a brother. He wore jeans and a short-sleeve white polo that was slightly fitted to show off his defined arms. His ash-brown hair needed a cut since it was getting long at the top, but he was still very handsome. His profound jawline and his smile made him irresistibly charming. A love-hate thing existed between Sam and Phoebe. Probably stemmed from Phoebe crushing on him since high school which led to a summer fling before she started college.

  “Hi, Sammy. Where’s Sage?” Chloe dropped her bag to the floor and sat down in the vacant seat next to him. She looked out the large panel window where an airplane approached the jetway. It was midday and soon it would be time to board.

  “She went to get coffee,” Sam answered. “Something’s bugging her…she’s been off, not herself lately.”

  “You must not be doing your job right, huh Sammy?” Phoebe smirked.

  “Cute, PK. I’ll have you know I can do the job every day and twice on Sunday.” Sam winked at Phoebe.

  “Only twice on Sunday? You’re losing your touch. Now I see why Sage is so uptight.”

  “Jealous much?” Sam raised a brow. “Since when has my sex life been on your radar?”

  “It’s a small blip on my radar.”

  “So, I’m still on your radar?”

  “Small…tiny blip.” Phoebe leveled her eyes at Sam’s groin.

  Sam stole a quick glance at her low-cut shirt that showed her cleavage.

  With two fingers Phoebe pointed to her eyes. “Hey, eyes up here!”

  Sam chuckled, moving his eyes from Phoebe’s breasts back up to her face. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “Perv,” Phoebe quipped.

  Chloe stifled a
giggle as she raised her hands up between them. “Okay, can we put an end to the Battle of the Sexes? Sam, the thing is…this trip was only supposed to be me and Feebs. You and Sage, well, make things…tense,” Chloe confessed.

  “Look, I’ve told her that Phoebe and I are old news—”

  Sage finally appeared holding two cups and a brown pastry bag in her hands. Her hazel eyes and shiny blond hair cascaded down her shoulders.

  Sam looked up at his girlfriend. “Hey, babe. I was just telling my cousin the plans I have for us when we get to the Bahamas,” Sam said. He gave Sage a kiss on the cheek, taking one of the cups from her hand.

  “Hi Chloe…Phoebe,” Sage greeted. “I just want to say thanks for letting me tag along.”

  “Sure thing.” Chloe smiled, then elbowed Phoebe.

  “Uh, sure. Not a problem.” Phoebe did not sound so convincing, but Chloe accepted it.

  “Phoebe, are we good?” Sage asked.

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “I just want to be sure, considering—”

  “I assure you, Sam and I are history. And I don’t want this trip to be any more awkward than it has to be. I want to make this memorable for my best friend and to just unwind.”

  “Fair enough.” Sage warmly smiled and took a sip of her coffee. “I just want us to be good.”

  “We are good. I want you to have a good time with Sam.” Phoebe returned a smile and slightly nodded.

  Sam let out a slight cough. “Well, now that’s all squared away…how are things at the news station?”

  “It’s good,” Phoebe replied, her eyes back on Sam.

  “Phoebe’s going to cover the foundation’s story. She’ll interview a few of the volunteers and the women and children we’ve helped.” Chloe straightened with a gleaming smile. “I can’t wait to start on that when we get back.”

  “Aunt Sarah would be so proud of you, Chlo. I know I am. Let me know when it airs. By the way, how’s the training coming along for the marathon?” Sam took a sip of his coffee.

  Chloe shook her head. “No, not this year. I’m not ready.” There was a time when she’d felt safe and enjoyed running through her neighborhood. But the attack set her back and she hadn’t really trained like she wanted. Chloe wanted to start training again but needed to get her courage back. Running was her escape, to feel free. But now, she felt she was running from something or someone rather than for herself.