Always the One: (Meadowview Heroes # 2) (The Meadowview Series Book 6) (Meadowview Heat)

by Rochelle French

  He nudged Mac. “What happened to Doe’s nose ring?” he asked quietly.

  Mac shrugged, but the lines around his mouth went tight. “Took them out when she started dating the Boring Blob of Nothing. Tad’s nice to Doe’s son, but I’m not all that happy to see my sister tamed. It’s like she’s changing to please him, and that’s not right.”

  “I hear you,” Remy agreed. Doe hadn’t had it easy, what with her mother dying of cancer when she was young and having a baby when she was still a teenager. Couldn’t be a piece of cake for her to find her way in the world. He’d be bummed if Doe turned domesticated, because that wasn’t her. Not that he’d ever lived the wild life. Nope, him and the law were tight—he followed the rules, and the rules served him well.

  But there was something to be said about staying a little bit wild.

  “At least Tad is responsible. I understand he’s in college and works here at the hospital. Most importantly, he’s not Buck,” he said quietly, mentioning the boy who’d gotten Doe pregnant then had run for the hills when she decided to have the baby.

  “There is that,” Mac muttered. Suddenly he shoved himself away from the wall and started to stride off, but called cheerfully over his shoulder, “You’d better hurry up and go see to your girl.”

  “My girl?”

  Mac merely saluted him and walked away with a grin, making Remy wonder if he’d somehow telepathically seen those visions he’d had of him and Coraleen in bed, after all.

  “Get on social media,” Remy called out, “and let me know if you get any volunteers.”

  He got a thumb’s up and Mac’s back in response.

  With a sigh, Remy ducked back into the hospital, headed down the hall to the ER, and stopped at Coraleen’s door. She was much as he’d left her, still seated on the hard mattress, a hospital blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders, staring dejectedly at the same spot on the floor she’d been checking out earlier.

  “Juliet gone?” he asked.

  Coraleen nodded. “One of her clients called, needed her to check on a horse down in Sacramento. Some sort of emergency.” She kept staring at the floor.

  “See anything interesting there?” he asked, trying to make a joke.

  She stuck a finger out and pointed to the floor. “It’s either a peace symbol or a happy face by Salvador Dalí.”

  “Dalí huh? How’d you learn about him in the clink?”

  Coraleen brought her head up and for the first time since she’d plowed into Delilah’s Diner, he saw the warmth wiped out of her eyes. They glittered. Hardened. “For your information, I got my Bachelor’s of Arts degree while in ‘the clink.’ I double-majored: Philosophy and Business Administration. Had a 3.8 GPA. The degree was part of a pilot program by one of the Ivy League universities, and I earned that degree, fair and square. Paid for it, too, by working in the cafeteria every day. Every. Single. Day.”

  He held out both hands, palms up. “I apologize. That came out wrong. And your degree is impressive. At the risk of offending you again, is that how you knew about Nietzsche?”

  “Yes. And I accept your apology.” She notched her chin up even as she wrapped her arms around her waist and seemed to cling to herself. “Why are you here, Remy? What do you want with me? You’re not planning to arrest me for ‘failure to brake,’ are you? We both know the accident was just that—an accident. I’ll figure out how to pay for the damages somehow.”

  He shook his head. “Of course I’m not going to arrest you. And you don’t need to worry about paying for damages. Both the diner and the car are insured.”

  She blew out a breath. “That’s a huge relief. Albert Ramirez promised he’d gotten me a policy, but I hadn’t received the paperwork.” But she still worried at her lip and wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair. Hold her. Reassure her. Make her believe everything would be okay now that she was home. He couldn’t, though, but wow—did he ever want to.

  How would he ever resist her with her staying as his houseguest overnight?

  Hold on. He’d decided no such thing. Right? Right?

  But he had. And he knew why. Or did he?

  Was it because she had nowhere else to go? Or because he was still crazy attracted to her? Or was it maybe because, despite the evidence and her confession, in his gut he still didn’t believe her guilty of the crime she’d claimed she committed? Maybe, though, it was because serving the public had been part of who he was for so long he didn’t know how to not help. Maybe this decision didn’t have anything to do with Coraleen, and was just about him and his attachment to duty.

  Or maybe those were all excuses to cover the fact that he simply cared about her. And he wouldn’t leave her alone. End of story. Besides, did it matter?

  She once again stared at the spot on the floor. He looked down and frowned. Huh. The spot did look like a smiley face drawn by Dalí.

  He couldn’t leave her to fend for herself. He could control his emotions. And even if some of the old biddies in town would think it inappropriate for him to put up a former convict for the night, he’d take her in. He might lose a few votes to Lydell, but he’d deal with it. Truthfully, he figured there was no way Lydell Wallaby would gain enough favor in Deloro County to win the position of sheriff.

  And besides, if Lydell somehow did win the vote, there was something seriously wrong with the system and maybe he wouldn’t even want to be part of it anymore.

  He could drive Coraleen back to his place, settle her into his guestroom, then wake her up a few times at night the way the doc wanted. Then say goodbye in the morning. Focusing on not wanting to jump her would be a priority. God, even in that cute little hospital gown, sex appeal shimmered around her. He’d do everything it took to be professional.

  Reaching beyond her, he grabbed a patchwork quilt bag that apparently served as her purse. It felt light and for a moment he was surprised, then realized she probably had little she’d accumulated after five years in a women’s prison. Most women’s purses were full of lipstick and hand lotion and combs and fat wallets full of coupons and credit cards. He’d bet dollars to donuts hers had her ID, maybe a comb, and a tube of lip balm from the prison’s commissary.

  “Those are my things,” she said slowly, staring at the bag now in his hand. “What are you doing?”

  He cleared his throat. “I haven’t found anywhere for you yet. So I decided—”

  “Not sure I understand how that relates to why you’re taking my stuff.”

  Exasperated, Remy fought to keep his hand from shoving through his hair again. Instead, he put his hands behind his back, clasped them tight, and stood with feet apart, shoulders back, at attention.

  “Because I’m taking you.”

  She caught her breath, the sound sharp and audible. “But I haven’t done anything wrong! I didn’t break any laws. You said so earlier.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “What I meant,” he said, opening his eyes and holding her gaze with his, “is that you’re coming with me. You’re staying at my house.”

  “Wait…what?”

  “Yep. You’re going to be my houseguest tonight. So get changed.”

  When her jaw dropped to the floor he fought to keep from smiling. So he frowned, instead. It was settled. Now he’d just have to settle down the intense urge to kiss every inch of Coraleen’s luscious body.

  Warmth suffused Coraleen all the way to her core, heat tumbling around with the sense of relief that coursed through her system. She wasn’t being arrested. In fact, far from it. Remy was taking her home. But…stay with Remy? Overnight? She was pretty sure he had offered only because he felt it his duty, but still…Remy!

  Reality crashed back in. Remy. That was the problem. She was supposed to be keeping her distance. Her plan to avoid him during her brief foray into Meadowview had completely gone up in rather spectacular flames.

  She nibbled her lip, considering her options. Not a long list to consider. But still. She couldn’t a
ccept his offer. Couldn’t be anywhere near him. Right?

  She’d pushed him away once before because she’d known how painful it was to not have him in her life. And even though she was no longer behind bars, the two of them would never work. Attraction was one thing, belonging together quite another.

  “I can’t accept the offer,” she said, flatly.

  His frown deepened. “Sure you can.”

  She shook her head. “You’re just offering because you take your job way too seriously.”

  “I do take my job seriously, as I should.” His tone was firm. “But I don’t make it a habit of bringing my work home with me. You’re someone I’ve known for a long, long time, and you need a place to stay and someone to watch over you. So stop arguing and get dressed. It’ll be fine.”

  She cocked her head and scrutinized him. Would it be fine? Could she do this? After all, it was just for one night. How tough would it be to walk away from him after one night? She knew the answer: it would be tough. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation as sheriff? I mean, you can’t seriously be offering to put me up for the night, right?”

  He nodded, his mouth still tight but the frown lightening. “Yes. I absolutely mean it. Now get a move-on. You’re still wearing hospital clothes.”

  Relief flooded her chest. Even though staying with Remy was the opposite of her plan (kinda hard to avoid seeing someone when you were their houseguest), she’d run out of other options besides breaking out of the hospital and hiding out on her own (risking a subdural hematoma—whatever that was—didn’t hold much of an appeal).

  “I’ll totally clean your house to make it up to you.”

  The lines around his mouth softened a little. “That’s completely unnecessary, and you—”

  “No, seriously. I can scrub the toilets and vacuum and dust—”

  “Coraleen, really, it’s fine.”

  “—and I’m really good at polishing furniture and I can clean a microwave in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “It’s just one night. No big deal.”

  Her eyes watered at his words. No big deal? He was the only person willing to take her in and help her. It was certainly a big deal, and meant a lot to her. But she couldn’t let her feelings show. Remy was being kind, yes, but wouldn’t she have done the same for someone if the situation were reversed?

  “Thank you, Remy. But I need to earn my keep.”

  “You need to rest that head of yours. The ramifications of a concussion are not to be taken lightly.”

  There he went with his Mister Serious routine again—so adorable. “But I don’t want to be indebted to you…or anyone, for that matter.” She hadn’t meant to, but her voice had gone small. Quiet.

  “You won’t be,” he said, reassuringly. “I’m happy to have you. All I ask is you follow my rules.”

  She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Uh…rules?”

  “You have a concussion. I want to make sure you’re safe, so all windows and doors locked at sundown. No going outside at night. No using the hot tub—”

  “What, am I twelve?” she snapped out, instantly on the defensive. “I’ll be sure not to make any long-distance phone calls, either.”

  He shot her a glance. “I’m trying to make my expectations clear.”

  She crossed her arms. “Oh, believe me, you’re doing a great job. Doors and windows locked at all times. No hot tub. No outdoor activity. Should I make sure to keep the stove burners off, too?”

  Rolling his eyes, he blew out a sharp breath. “Christ, Coraleen, I’m not trying to put you back in prison or anything. You don’t need to be so reactive. I’ve simply never had a houseguest with a concussion before. I have to go out for a little while tonight and leave you alone for about an hour, so I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”

  “Because there are so many violent criminals running around Meadowview?” She lightened her tone and the severity of her words with a grin. “Please, you know I’ll be fine,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm. Wow. Muscles. She snatched her hand away. “Your rules way cross the line of overprotective, is all.”

  Remy raised an eyebrow. “Rules keep people safe.”

  “Rules suck.”

  “Do you not know what I do for a living?” But he smiled as he said it.

  Oh yeah, she did. Kinda hard to forget that. If she stayed with Remy, she’d have to put up with the fact that not only did her body want his with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, but also that the man couldn’t break a rule to save his life and would impose his interpretation of law and order onto her.

  But it would only be overnight, right? In the morning she’d go on a walkabout through Meadowview, asking if anyone knew where Visada was and if anyone had a room she could stay in until she could leave town. She’d find somewhere to stay and go back to living without restrictions. Not that she’d had even a full day of that yet, but one could hope.

  “Okay,” she said simply.

  Remy raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

  “Okay, as in, okay I accept the invitation to stay at your place.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Even though I have all those rules you hate?”

  Grinning widely, she said, “Rules suck. But being homeless sucks more. Looks like you’ve got a houseguest for the night.” She bounced off the hospital bed, wished she hadn’t, put a hand to her head, then went about digging around the pillows and bleached sheets, looking for her T-shirt and shorts.

  When she backed up, a warm hand met her bare backbone, and then suddenly the sound of Remy clearing his throat loudly rattled the room.

  “Uh…Coraleen…clothes?”

  She glanced down. Whoops. Hospital gown. She whisked the wrap-around back into place to cover her rear and plopped back down on the bed. And groaned. Insta-headache.

  “Sorry. Kinda forgot what I was wearing. Or not wearing, I guess I should say. Think I could borrow a pair of boxers? And a toothbrush?”

  Before Remy whirled around and charged out of the hospital room, she could swear he’d been blushing.

  She grinned. How totally adorable.

  And how amazingly sexy. Wow—she needed to put her libido in handcuffs, and fast.

  Six hours later, Coraleen safely delivered to his house much earlier in the day and Jimmy Loftus’s bullets now removed from his rifle, Remy pulled the Jeep into his garage and turned off the engine. For a moment, he sat in silence, contemplating the fact that Coraleen was in his home. As his guest. Overnight.

  His chest squeezed. Ever since he’d determined her health was okay after crashing into the diner, he’d wanted to kiss her, take her in his arms and immerse himself in her scent. Then, when she’d turned away from him in the hospital room and he’d seen the slim line and curves of her back and behind through that open hospital gown…

  Don’t go there. The phrase rattled around in his mind, bouncing from side to side like a game of skeeball. His imagination paid no attention. He pictured himself kissing her, starting at her shoulders and making his way down… He shook his head hard to clear the images and the intense desire growing inside him.

  Just get out of the car, go inside, and wake her up if she’s sleeping, just like how the doctor told you to, he thought. She’d probably fall right back asleep, anyway. That’s what she’d done most of the day, after all.

  Once she’d been discharged, she’d slept in the Jeep on the way home from the ER, and he’d had to shake her awake after he’d pulled into the driveway and turned off the Jeep.

  Insisting on making her own way, she’d entered his home, glancing around as if intrigued (even though he’d quickly stood in front of the stack of dishes in the sink and shoved unopened mail and magazines off the kitchen counter into the utensils drawer), but then she’d wobbled just a bit and yawned widely.

  Long drive, no sleep, and a major concussion could do that to a person.

  At that point, he’d grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the couch at the e
nd of the great room. Brown leather was draped with a white wool blanket, lovingly knitted for him by Susan, one of his cousins. When she settled down on the couch, he tucked the lumpy blanket around her and stroked the hair off her forehead.

  Her eyes drifted shut but a faint smile had appeared on her lips. Within seconds, she’d fallen sound asleep.

  He’d spent the rest of the afternoon keeping an eye on her as she slept, waking her at 1:00, then again at 4:00, making sure she was coherent. And catching himself simply staring at the way her soft exhales moved a few strands of her blond hair, how a fold in her T-shirt extended with each inhale…

  The second time he woke her, he’d told her he had to take off to settle down Jimmy Loftus and that he’d be back soon. She’d murmured to say hi to Jimmy for her, then her warm, sleepy smile had just about made him come undone.

  It seemed everything about Coraleen, from the top of her head to her sweet little toes, made him forget things like her past rejection and any complications on the upcoming election, and instead made him focus on all his varied body parts and all the intimate things he could do to her with them.

  Don’t go there, he recited again.

  Convict.

  Campaign.

  Professional behavior.

  Not to mention the gigantic fact she’d rejected him time and time again.

  He repeated the words over and over again until he’d gained back some modicum of control.

  After entering the house through the garage, he came the great room to find Coraleen in the kitchen, wiping down his microwave. The stack of dishes in the sink no longer existed.

  “What are you doing?” he ground out. “Put down that sponge!”

  She whipped around, turned a paler shade of white, then blinked at him. “I just wanted to help,” she said, confused. “Why are you freaking out?”

  Chagrin swept over him at the sight of the hurt in her eyes. For someone who’d once radiated confidence and spunk, Coraleen appeared vulnerable several times since she’d arrived back at Meadowview. Besides the car crash—which, given her lack of speed wasn’t so much a crash as a major bump—it had to be tough for her to return to a place where people either loved her or hated her very existence.