by Lori Wilde
Jared
Sweet Southern Charmers, Volume 5
Lori Wilde and Carolyn Greene
Published by L&C, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
JARED
First edition. May 8, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Lori Wilde and Carolyn Greene.
ISBN: 978-1393649311
Written by Lori Wilde and Carolyn Greene.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Further Reading: Reece
Also By Lori Wilde
Also By Carolyn Greene
Chapter 1
Kimber Sutton had always imagined that when you broke up with someone there would be yelling involved...from at least one of the two parties. And maybe some china thrown for dramatic effect.
The real thing turned out to be nothing like that.
Somehow, she just couldn’t dredge up the energy to raise her voice. She felt dead inside, as dead as the love she’d once had for Gerald Kirkland.
As for the china, she liked the blue-and-white pattern of the set that had once been her mother’s—the set her father had given her for her upcoming marriage to Gerald. The delicate pieces were too precious to be wasted on the likes of him.
As for her fiancé—former fiancé—he was taking the news in a manner that suggested she’d just told him there was a power failure and they’d have to eat out tonight.
Kimber moved to the door and held it open for him. “If you’ve forgotten anything, I’ll pack it up and send it to your apartment.”
The thought flitted through her mind that she could burn anything he left behind or get rid of it in a garage sale. For now, though, she hurt too much to let her thoughts linger on revenge. All she wanted was to get him out of here—out of her house, out of her life, out of her mind, and mostly out of her heart.
Gerald bent to pick up his briefcase, the movement causing his biceps to bunch under the starched white shirt. Then, in a gesture that came more from habit than from intent, he leaned toward Kimber as if to drop a casual kiss on her cheek. When she drew back, he seemed to realize the foolishness of his action.
“This is a big mistake,” he said. “You’re jumping to conclusions. What you saw...it wasn’t— Why don’t you be reasonable and just forget about it? Stop trying to make a big deal out of nothing. Then everything will be the way it used to be.”
He flashed her a smile that, just a few days ago, would have made her weak in the knees.
Kimber’s hand tightened around the doorknob. She considered herself a tolerant person. There was a lot she’d tolerate in others, but laziness and lying were two of the character traits she considered unforgivable.
Not that there was a problem with Gerald’s work habits. In fact, other than the way his custom-tailored suit fit—from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist and hips and down over his thick-muscled thighs—his ambition was what appealed most to her.
She’d never known a man so willing to work so hard to get ahead. He had lofty dreams and expensive tastes, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.
But the lying. That was another matter.
She’d had vague suspicions about what he’d been up to when he broke dates with her and claimed to be working late. Even so, she’d given him the benefit of the doubt when he did show up—late—smelling of a citrusy perfume.
Even yesterday, after Gerald had told her he’d be working straight through lunch, she had wanted to believe him. Wanted to push those awful suspicions away and pretend like they’d never raised that ugly red flag.
When she had driven to pick up a sub sandwich a few blocks from their Richmond, Virginia, office, she’d been surprised to see Gerald’s BMW a few cars ahead of her. She’d been even more surprised to see a woman seated beside him.
Although the hat that shielded the passenger’s face prevented Kimber from identifying her, something about the woman seemed familiar. She reasoned Gerald had changed his mind and decided to take a coworker after he couldn’t reach her at her desk.
Assuming he was also headed to the sub shop, Kimber followed him, intending to join them for lunch. When he passed the popular meeting place, she continued to follow him, thinking he’d stop for a burger farther down the road.
Instead, he’d pulled into the parking lot of a small motel. Staying a discreet distance behind them, Kimber had watched in horrified disbelief as the couple had walked, arm around waist, into the building.
Now, leaning against the door—more to prop herself up than to prop it open—Kimber looked up and saw that Gerald was waiting for her to “be reasonable” and make everything “the way it used to be.”
She tried to take a deep breath of air, but her chest felt so tight that all she could manage were shallow pants.
“All right,” she said at last, her voice coming out in a pitiful squeak. “I’ll be ‘reasonable.’ But first, you need to answer this question for me.”
Searching his face, knowing the expression she saw there would be more honest than the words that would come out of his handsome mouth, she spoke slowly and deliberately.
“Tell me truthfully why you and that woman were at the Hull Street Motel.”
His gaze darted briefly away before he met her eyes and held them. “I told you, we had some business to discuss, and we didn’t want to be disturbed.”
His large fingers opened and closed around the briefcase handle. When she took notice of the nervous gesture, he squeezed the handle until his knuckles turned white.
Her voice sounded flat, even to her own ears, giving the impression that there was no knot in her throat, no crushing tightness at the pit of her very being. “Then why did you sign in as Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Kirkland?”
She hadn’t intended to let him know she’d stooped so low as to follow them inside. She hadn’t wanted him to know she cared. For, if he knew how much she cared, he must surely know how much she was hurting. And her pride couldn’t take it if pity prompted him to apologize or, worse, tell her he loved her.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze...just kept glancing at his car in the driveway. By now he’d moved out onto the gray-painted slabs of the old farmhouse’s broad front porch. He shifted the briefcase to his other hand and opened his mouth to speak.
Kimber shook her head. She couldn’t bear to hear any more lies.
Resolutely, he closed his mouth and gave her a grim-lipped nod.
“Drive carefully.” She watched his car pull away for the last time and realized how stupid that must have sounded. For, in her heart, she hoped she never saw him again.
Less than an hour later, her cell phone rang. Thinking it might be Gerald trying to change her mind, she considered letting it go to voicemail. However, his name did not show up on the screen. Instead, the name of a Richmond hospital filled the screen.
She quickly pressed the connect button, and there was a slight hesitation before a woman’s voice spoke.
“This is the emergency room at MCV-VCU Hospital. I’m calling about—”
Kimber’s heart pounded against her ribs. Her father’s health had seemed better since his last operation. She dreaded hearing what must surely be bad news. Even worse, s
he couldn’t bear to be away from her father if he was having a relapse.
“What’s the matter? Is he all right?”
The woman didn’t answer her panicked questions, and Kimber assumed the worst.
“Are you Ms. Barnett?”
“Yes,” she blurted. “Yes, I am.”
“You’re listed as the person to contact in case of an emergency.”
“What’s wrong? Is he bad off?”
The woman’s voice softened. “You’d best come in, Ms. Barnett. He’s not expected to make it through the night.”
Kimber felt her mouth go dry. She held the phone in stunned silence for several seconds before she spoke in a hoarse croak. “Was it his heart again?”
“I’m not aware of a heart problem,” the woman said gently. “Mr. Kirkland was injured in a three-car accident.”
TAKING A SURREPTITIOUS glance at his fellow fenuki players, Jared reached into the billowing sleeve of his pristine white robe and withdrew a perfect gilded feather. Confident no one had witnessed his deft maneuver; he placed the coveted game piece on the table atop the plain white plumes anted up by the other two players.
“Fenuki!” Jared shouted, proclaiming himself winner for the umpteenth time this century. Jared felt his halo slip to the left as if to herald to the others that this game—like many of the others—had come to him by sleight of hand.
He cracked his knuckles and began to count his winnings. Mehrdad reached across to place a quelling hand on his arm. Although the senior angel’s tone was gentle, his voice held a warning.
“If Nahum thought that any of his staff wasn’t one hundred percent virtuous, it would be quite difficult for that staff member to earn his wings, don’t you think?”
Heedless of the implied threat, Jared laughed. “Would it matter? I now have almost enough fenuki feathers to make my own wings.”
Mehrdad bristled and rose to his feet. The tension caused light to crackle through the air. Heat lightning, the humans down below would call it.
But before Mehrdad could carry the warning further, a wispy covering of fog swirled about them. A moment later, the thin veils of white parted and settled around their knees and ankles. Asim stood before them.
“Nahum wishes to see you,” the messenger told Jared. At his questioning glance, Asim added, “It is time for your performance appraisal.”
With a taunting grin at his fenuki opponent, Jared tucked the last of the feathers into his robe pockets and rose to follow Asim to the supervisor.
After all these centuries, he knew it would take more than luck to improve his abysmal performance record. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. Workers in the Human Resource Assistance Department were expected to be reliable, dependable, and have an intimate understanding of the most fickle and confusing of all creatures...humans.
As it happened, Jared possessed none of those qualities. Especially that last one.
A few minutes later—or it could have been instantaneous, Jared wasn’t sure; he had no use for time here—he showed up in front of Nahum who sat in beatific splendor upon his chair of gold-painted wicker.
Jared knew it wouldn’t be long before his supervisor would be trading in that humble chair for a throne in another department.
Already, Nahum had moved up the ranks of wing size until he now sported a pair that was taller and wider than himself.
Jared would have been happy with a pair of dinky baby wings made of gray down. Considering his own track record, it would take him at least several millennia, if ever, to earn such a glorious pair as Nahum’s. Jared tried to still his wayward thoughts. Wing envy was frowned upon up here.
But he had broad, strong shoulders that Nahum had told him gave him the potential to carry the weight of large wings. Although his supervisor had routinely given him low, yet honest, appraisals, he’d always encouraged Jared to put aside his playful ways and set his mind to the tasks he was asked to perform.
But, somehow, Jared’s attention would stray, and he’d fail the assignment or have to turn it over to a worker with a better track record.
But this was different.
This time, he would do whatever Nahum asked, even if it meant safeguarding an accident-prone human. Jared grimaced as he remembered a previous klutz he’d been assigned to watch over.
After one too many mishaps while he’d let his mind wander, the most dramatic of which had happened at the 2013 Oscars, he’d been forced to let Mehrdad assume the responsibility of protecting a klutzy but adorable actress.
Nahum nodded benevolently, his gaze falling upon Jared’s bulging pockets. “When your time comes to meet with the Chairman of the Board, I doubt he’ll think much of wings made out of fenuki feathers,” he said softly.
Sheepish, Jared stuffed the telltale overflowing fluff back into his pockets.
“I’ve been going over your personnel file.” The left-hand side of the folder held page after page of not-so-glowing reports. The right-hand side, reserved for commendations and accolades, sported only two thin sheets of parchment. “In addition to your lack of...shall we say, finesse...as a protectorate, there seems to be a couple of other problems holding you back.”
Jared couldn’t help being amazed. Only a couple of problems? He waited in respectful silence for his superior to continue.
“The first is your cavalier attitude. You take everything so lightly, as if this were all just a big game. This isn’t the place for someone who chooses to act like such a...a—”
“Free spirit?”
“Exactly. We’re a team here. You must learn to work better with others.”
“I’ll try to do better.”
Nahum crossed his arms over his chest, exposing the many rows of gold trim that weighted his sleeves. “You can start by referring to Mehrdad by his appointed name rather than ‘Mehrdy.’”
So his fenuki opponent had apparently been complaining.
“And it would be best if you discourage others from referring to you by a nickname. ‘Jerry’ sounds a bit too modern and casual for the serious nature of our work.”
Jared reverently bowed his head. “Thy will be done. And the other problem?”
Casting a skeptical glance, Nahum opened another folder and produced a sheet of lined parchment, which he handed to Jared. “Apparently, there has been an oversight. Your training is incomplete.”
Jared glanced through the list at the many workshops and seminars written in elegant script. His elder must certainly have made a mistake.
“But I’ve taken all the courses offered, and I passed them with flying colors.”
“You haven’t served your apprenticeship on Earth,” Nahum explained. “You need hands-on experience before you can move on to the next level of protectorate.”
Jared returned the parchment to his superior. “I’ve walked among humans, though. I’ve seen how they are.”
“But you’ve never been one. In all your previous assignments, you’ve remained invisible to your protectees, which means you’ve never had to learn to interact with them. Understand what they’re feeling and communicate on their level.”
Jared started to explain that he had spoken to his human charges on a number of occasions when he’d whispered warnings to them, but Nahum stilled his protest with an upraised hand.
“It’s impossible to truly comprehend them until you’ve experienced their challenges and limitations, such as their inability to become invisible or to transmogrify themselves through earthly barriers. But you will see what I mean once you take human form.”
“Oh, no, you don’t! You’re not going to send me down there to go through the poopy diaper stage and have parents tell me what to do all the time. You know I don’t handle restrictions on my freedom very well.”
“Which may have been why you were overlooked for apprenticeship all this time. There were no parents who deserved such a test.”
Nahum leaned back in his chair, the winged back obscuring his face from all but the one direct
ly in front of him, and thoughtfully stroked his long brown beard.
“There is an assignment I’d like for you to handle.”
Jared breathed a long sigh of relief, then regretted it. His sigh could cause hurricanes and twisters down below. If Nahum was giving him an assignment, it meant he wouldn’t be forcing him to go through the childbirth process and schooling and such.
“There is a young woman who needs you.”
Jared arched one eyebrow. He’d do his best, but if she was clumsy, she’d best stock up on bandages and ice packs. “Give me five minutes to put on a fresh robe, and I’ll be ready.”
“You won’t be needing it,” Nahum said. “You’ll be working as a protectorate while also serving your apprenticeship in human form.”
Jared’s mouth opened. He wasn’t being let off the hook after all. “How am I supposed to protect someone while I’m squalling for a baby bottle?”
Nahum steadied a look of infinite patience upon him before answering. “There is a soul whose hourglass is almost empty. You will inhabit his vessel when he leaves it.”
Jared rubbed his ears as if he might have misheard his supervisor’s words. “You mean...no spitting up and no fighting schoolyard bullies?”
“You will be a thirty-two-year-old male, living in Bliss, Virginia. That’s the United States, of course.” The supervisor added, almost as an afterthought, “Perhaps the only country that would put up with your unorthodox ways.”
“What about the woman? How am I supposed to protect her?” If he went into this assignment with a firm idea of what to expect, perhaps he could be better prepared.
Nahum closed the folder in front of him. “I don’t have all the details. You’ll have to find them out once you get there. But I do know that the woman is in danger of leaving her earthly body sixty years sooner than her scheduled departure. Your job is to make sure she comes to no harm.”
Jared shook his head in amazement. “Only sixty years? What’s the big to-do about? In the overall scheme of things, sixty years is just an eye blink.”
