by Annette Lyon
“Just the same, I’ll stick around for a minute or two. Until he gets back.” He glanced toward the gas station and added with a trace of disappointment, “Looks like he’s on his way now.”
“Thanks again,” Brooke said, dreading the ride home with Christopher. “It looks like crises are following me tonight. We can hope this is the last you’ll see of me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” he said, then quickly stood to his full height as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “And here he is.” At that instant Christopher came up behind the car. Brooke was an inch away from asking Officer Stevens for a ride, but her courage failed. She still had a lingering hope of ending the evening on a less sour note with Christopher. Surely she could find the kernel of the guy she thought she knew before saying good-bye.
It took him only a moment to transfer the red container’s contents into the gas tank. Soon they were on their way. Christopher didn’t say a word as he drove, changing lanes with abandon, cutting off cars, the engine straining before each gear shift. Without turning her head, Brooke watched him; his eyes looked like those of a stranger, as if something had snapped inside him. She tried to remember better times, but his cold glare made it impossible. He turned left at a light and narrowly missed getting broadsided by an oncoming car. Brooke gripped the armrest and hoped they’d make it home without another — more serious — accident for the evening.
They arrived at Brooke’s townhome complex without anything more hazardous than a few honks and curses from other drivers. Christopher stopped in front. He stared through the windshield — then looked at her expectantly. He’d never opened the car door for her before, but he’d always gotten out with her and walked her to the door. Not today.
“I’m — I’m sorry it had to end this way,” Brooke said. “I really am.”
She reached over to hug him good-bye, but Christopher pushed her away with one swift motion. “Get out.”
She fell against the door, her arm smacking against the handle with blunt force. She stared at him without a word, too stunned to move. Christopher’s eyes burned with anger. She fought back her tears. Who was this man?
“Good-bye, Brooke.” He said her name like a dirty word
Her wits returned enough for her to grab her purse and open the door as she tried to ignore the throbbing on her arm. Before she could step out, he grabbed her left arm. She turned to face him, hoping for a kind word — maybe an apology.
“I want the bracelet back.”
Stunned into silence, she removed his only gift and dropped it in his hand before getting out. He barely waited for her to close the door before hitting the gas pedal and racing off, tires squealing as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Brooke hugged herself for warmth, even though the evening wasn’t cold.
She turned and walked to her door, with a confusing mixture of relief, sadness, and anger swirling around her. She went inside with another emotion — feeling very, very alone.
Christopher drove home, where his mother would be waiting for him. He knew something wasn’t right with him; the feelings surging through his body, the thoughts filling his mind, felt like something trying to take control over his body. He’d felt this way before, but not in years. He was younger then, less mature. This time, he’d handle it on his own.
He pulled into the driveway and killed the car, but didn’t go in yet. Mother couldn’t see him like this; he had to calm down first or she’d ask whether he’d taken his meds.
Rather, my poison. I’m fine. I don’t need any meds.
He hadn’t needed them for nearly two years, but he’d taken them faithfully in spite of the side effects until March, nearly two months ago. He blamed his extra twenty pounds and receding hairline on those pills. Not to mention the headaches and nausea. And tossing and turning every night, unable to sleep. Poison — that’s what those chemicals were. Brooke deserved a man without love handles or a shiny scalp. So he went off them.
Still gripping the steering wheel, a surge of emotion shot through Christopher again. He looked over at the passenger seat and stroked the spot where Brooke had sat minutes before. He wanted nothing but her. He needed her. What went wrong? Everything was perfect until she pulled that surprise out of nowhere tonight. Back and forth his hand went, stroking the seat. No matter. He’d win her back. The two of them would be together, in this life or the next. No matter what it took.
He tried to even out his breathing so Mother wouldn’t ask any questions. Even if she didn’t shove the pills down his throat, she might trick him into taking them inside food or — worse — drag him to see Dr. Hamilton again. He couldn’t risk that, so he leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes, breathing deeply while running his fingers across Brooke’s seat.
After a few minutes, he adjusted the rearview mirror to peer into his eyes. He blinked, searching his expression for anything Mother could find amiss. With one final breath, he got out, closed the car door, and headed up the porch. He glanced at his watch. Mother would be watching one of those news magazine shows. If he came in with a smile and gave her a kiss on the cheek, she might not ask why he was home early.
Christopher reached for the doorknob then gave one final glance at the passenger seat. Brooke would be his — he’d see to that. As he opened the front door, he couldn’t help but smile.
Read More
Want to more romantic stories about Harvest Valley? Check out these titles, some set in modern day, and others in the early years of valley’s settlement:
Harvest Valley Romance Contemporary Titles:
Falling to Pieces
Lost Without You
Harvest Valley Romance Historical Titles:
Perfectly Imperfect
Between the Lines
An Unexpected Proposal
It’s You
Check out These Other Contemporary Romances:
Love Far from Home (Box set of three novellas)
Chasing Tess
Golden Sunrise
Chocolate Obsessed
Firsts and Lasts
Or These European Historical Romances:
Sweeter Than Any Dream
The Affair at Wildemore
War of Hearts
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Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2017 by Annette Lyon
First edition published 2017 by Mirror Press in the Valentine’s Day Collection from the Timeless Romance Anthology series.
Second edition published 2019 by Blue Ginger Books.
All rights reserved.
Cover by Victorine Lieske
ISBN: 978-1-946308-99-3
No part of this book may be reproduced, saved, or distributed in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the author, except in cases of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
