Chasing Love

by Melissa West

  The stream ran alongside them, bubbling and rushing over rocks, while birds called out a melody from somewhere in the trees. It was peaceful, perfect. Just like their first time, and hopefully this would be one of many more to come.

  “And they found the women?” he asked as he set down the tackle box and small cooler.

  She nodded. “He had them in his basement. Had a hidden room down there. I guess that was where he had me, too. I gave another statement, and investigators feel they have enough to put him away for good this time.”

  Her eyes diverted, and Charlie tilted her chin up so she would look at him again. “I can’t imagine how hard this is, but I’ll be there for you every step of the way. You have no idea how brave you’ve been. You helped find these women, helped save them. Because of you, they get to have full lives. Don’t you see that?”

  “I just . . . I want them to be safe. I want Wyatt behind bars. I don’t want him to use his money to escape.”

  “That won’t happen. There’s too much evidence this time.”

  She released a long breath. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Listen, this is over now. He failed because of you. He failed with all three of you, because of you. He’s going to jail, where he’ll never be able to hurt you again. But if by some miracle he gets out and tries to come for you, then he has to go through me. I’ll take out the bastard myself. Because I will be damned if he touches someone I love again. I will—”

  Lila’s hand went to his arm, stopping him mid-rant. “Wait, what did you say?”

  Charlie’s eyes fell on her, a slow smile spreading on his face. “I said I love you. I should have told you before, I should have shouted it to anyone who would listen, but then the attack happened, and I didn’t know if you were ready to hear it. I wanted to give you time, but God . . .” He ran a hand over her face and cupped her cheek. “Every time I look at you, I feel like my heart is going to burst and my thoughts get jumbled, and . . .” He stopped. “Say something.”

  Her face lit. “You love me?”

  “Are you crazy? I love you so much it’s killing me.”

  Then she launched herself into his arms, her lips on his. “I love you, too. So, so much.” Then her smile turned sly. “And just remember that when I out-fish you today.”

  They broke into laughter and spent the next two hours fishing, lost in the beauty around them, no worries but this moment and how they’d finally found their happily ever after, together.

  Always.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “Darlin’, what are you doing in there? We’ve got movers arriving in . . . crap, they’re here now.”

  Lila stared at the bathroom door to her and Charlie’s new house, white with country-style detailing. They’d built the house from the ground up, picked out every detail, including the custom-made door she was presently standing behind.

  They’d snuck off to get married three months prior, a private ceremony with only immediate family, up in the mountains, by the river that had cemented their relationship from the start. And Lila loved Charlie. She loved him so fully that she knew for the rest of her life she would be happy, safe, and loved.

  But as her gaze returned to the small white stick in her hand, two definite pink lines clear in the view window, she wondered what would happen now.

  She had just taken over the animal hospital, Baxter finally retiring so he could focus on his golf game. Charlie had just launched his T-shirt business, with orders coming in so fast they could hardly keep up. Everything was great, wonderful, exactly how it should be, so how would he take this—

  “Did you fall in? I mean, I know the shrimp last night wasn’t the greatest. Maybe I should call Maguire, see if anyone else has had a problem? But these movers are already bringing in stuff, so—No, don’t put that there!” he shouted, and Lila knew she had to face the music before the movers scratched their perfect new hardwood floors.

  Slowly, she dropped the stick into the trash and stepped out, her thoughts on what she’d just seen, how it could be wrong, but then she’d missed her period, and she’d never missed her period before, and...

  Deep breath. Long, deep breath.

  “Hey,” Charlie said, eyeing her. “Ready to bring in some boxes?”

  “Actually.” Lila fumbled with her ponytail, then wrung out her hands, then placed them on her hips. “I . . . well, I don’t think I should be moving any boxes.”

  His eyebrows drew in. “Feeling sick? I knew you looked off last night. Stomach bug?”

  She laughed. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

  “Huh? You’re not making sense here, and these movers are about to ruin my new floor.”

  A slow grin spread across her face. “Your new floors?”

  “Well, yeah, mine. Ours. Mine.” He laughed, then took her hand and pulled. “Now let’s get to those boxes.”

  “Wait.” Charlie paused, and Lila ran her hands over her face. “I can’t move boxes, because see, I think I might be . . . a little on the pregnant side. Okay, a lot on the pregnant side, and they say you shouldn’t lift heavy things, and maybe that’s just an old wives’ tales, but I don’t really know all the dos and don’ts yet. Because I’m an animal doctor, not a human doctor. And I know this is poor timing, and we’ve just taken on two new businesses, and it’s . . . well, I don’t even know how this happened! Damn pill not working.” Lila stomped her foot, then peered back up at her husband. “It’s . . . I . . .”

  And then Charlie swept her into his arms, laughter booming out of his chest. “We’re having a baby?”

  “Yes, I think so. Does this mean you’re happy?”

  “We’re having a baby!” he screamed, at the very moment that Zac and Brady appeared.

  “Ah, damn,” Zac said. “Well there went my hope of being the favorite son by giving Mama a new baby this year.” Then he grinned and Sophie and Audrey rushed in, hugging Lila close.

  “When did you find out?” they all asked.

  “Just now.”

  The women all squealed and set into to talking about baby rooms and baby clothes and baby showers. And as Charlie took her hand and kissed her palm, and her gaze took in their excited family and friends, she knew Crestler’s Key would forever be her safe haven.

  Her home.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Melissa West writes heartfelt Southern romance and teen sci-fi romance, all with lots of kissing. Because who doesn’t like kissing? She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two daughters and spends most of her time writing, reading, or fueling her coffee addiction.

  Connect with Melissa at www.melissawestauthor.com or on Twitter@MB_West.

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  Chapter One

  “Shit.”

  Zac Littleton stopped walking, balanced the two boxes he was carrying on his strong thigh, and peered over at his brother. Already he was on edge. Littleton Farms sold at the market every other Saturday during spring and summer, and yet every other Saturday, it was a damn three-ring circus to get everyone here and everything set up. So far that morning, they’d locked themselves out of a supply closet, broken two baskets, and Zac had snapped at the mayor, which was never a good idea. But Mr. Mayor refused to let them park without their vendor parking pass—somehow forgotten in the other delivery truck. “What now?”

  Brady nodded his shaved blond head forward, his skin tanned from hours on the farm. Cargo shorts and a green Littleton Farms T-shirt completed his look. The market helped the farm meet its monthly goals, and without those Saturday sales, Zac wasn’t sure the family farm would survive. Which wasn’t an option.

  The Littleton boys hadn’t always run things. Zac and his brothers had used the little bit of savings they each had to open up Southern Dive, their dream dive shop, five years ago. But then their father had a massive heart attack, followed by another, and suddenly the brothers had to juggle both
jobs—their dream and their obligation to the family. And for the most part, everything had been fine, business was good. The town supported them no matter what, and that loyalty was the only thing keeping the farm in the black. Despite the fact that Littleton hadn’t made the expensive but ever popular switch to organic.

  New age hippies pushed organic foods like it was gold and everything else was crap, and while Zac loved the idea of converting the farm, now wasn’t the time. They didn’t have the resources. Plus, it was easier to keep things moving than toss the lot and redo everything. And no one in town seemed to care anyway. They knew the Littletons went as natural as possible, and they respected what the farm produced. No one said a word. Well, no one except—

  “Shit.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Zac’s gaze fixed on the booth directly across from the Littleton Farms booth, the pink and orange and green sign for Fresh Foods Organics bright and visible for all to see. Who the hell made butterflies part of a food logo? No one, that’s who.

  “Ah, hell. Y’all didn’t tell me we were in for a fight today.” Charlie, Zac’s middle brother, paused beside him and baby brother Brady, all of them staring at the vixen behind the Fresh Foods table.

  Unsure what to do now and more than a little pissed that Mayor Collins hadn’t warned them about this crap, Zac nodded toward their booth. “Just ignore her.”

  “Like that’s possible,” Brady said with another glare in her direction. “She’s like one of those damn ladybugs that slip into your house, acting all pretty and ladybug-like, but really the thing’s still a damn bug.”

  Charlie licked his lips and stared. “Still, she’s a fine-looking ladybug if you ask me.”

  “No one did,” Zac said, dropping the boxes he’d been carrying onto the long, rectangular table in their booth, his back to the person determined to destroy his family’s image and convince years’ worth of loyal customers to buy from her new, fancy, organic, non-GMO, eat-my-apple-and-you-will-fly farm. She’d already weaseled her way into Rick’s Grocery, securing an organic section in the back of produce that was almost always empty when Zac went by. Not that he was checking.

  “Well, well, look what the antibiotic-infused cow dragged in.”

  Zac shook his head and pivoted slowly to face her like he was the hero in a Marvel movie and she was the evil villain, eager to destroy the world one gluten-free muffin at a time. “Sophie.”

  “Zac.”

  “Glad you can remember my name. Now how about you use that memory of yours to pull up our agreement. You know, the one that says you’ll position your booth at the other side of the market. Far, far away from mine.”

  Sophie’s red lips curved into a Cheshire cat smile that would have earned her a role in Alice in Wonderland. She leaned forward, causing her blond waves to fall over her shoulders and drop down, barely brushing the table. She wore a basic white tank top with the Fresh Foods logo stretched across her perky breasts. Which Zac bet were fake, just like the rest of her.

  “You know as well as I do that Mayor Collins chooses where each booth will be located.”

  “And you know as well as I do that he’d sell his right arm for one of your cherry yum yums.”

  The cat smile spread, the glint in her eyes sparkling like something out of a soap opera—right before the woman threw her glass of water or wine or whatever the hell she had in her hand on the poor, unsuspecting man who was stupid enough to talk to her.

  “Now, now. That’s not a very nice assumption. Why would I do a thing like that?”

  Brady huffed. “Because you’re a torturous wi—”

  Zac threw up a hand to stop his brother from saying what the rest of them were thinking—and what would surely cause the other market vendors to choose Sophie’s side over theirs. The Littletons were already in jeopardy of losing the male population every time she wore one of those flowy dresses of hers and handed out handmade, all-organic and gluten-free for Christ’s sake apple pie samples.

  “Let’s just get set up,” Zac said in an effort to rein in his brothers before one of them said something they’d regret. After all, the Littleton brothers had never had to watch what they said before. They had run the high school and taken Crestler’s Key High’s football team to the state title game, winning every year that one of the Littletons was on the team. And the year that all three had been in high school at the same time—Zac a senior, Charlie a junior, and Brady a freshman—they’d won every single game and shut out the Sunnyville Packers in the state championship. Add to that all three brothers being All-American in baseball, and basically, the town worshipped the brothers when they were young, and the brothers’ devotion to the town only amplified that praise.

  Then Zac moved away, a part of him glad to build a name for himself outside of the small town. He began his career coaching a high school team in Texas, where football might be more important than breathing good air, and married Lora. She was pregnant a year and a half later. When the nurse placed his beautiful baby girl in his arms, Zac understood real love for the first time in his life. The baby was named Carrie-Anne after his and Lora’s grandmothers—his Carrie and Lora’s Anne—and they were happier than he thought possible. Until they weren’t. Or more specifically, she wasn’t.

  Lora battled depression on and off after giving birth, constantly accusing Zac of cheating. It wasn’t until he discovered her with her OB-GYN that he realized her accusations were a means of freeing her own conscience. Lora left Zac and Carrie-Anne the next day, never to be seen or heard from again. From that moment on, Zac vowed to focus on no one else but his little girl. Women were evil, confusing liars who couldn’t be trusted.

  Exhibit A: Sophie Marsh.

  “Yes, please, set up. I’d love to compare my apples to yours. Natural to pesticide-ridden, cancer-causing ones.” She cocked her head, and Zac’s spine stiffened, anger rising up, but he wouldn’t let her get the best of him.

  “What is it, Sophie? Jealous that my stock is twice as plentiful as yours?”

  Her brow furrowed, the only hint that she had any expression beyond that blinding, condescending smile. “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah, we will see. In fact . . . care to make a little wager? Hundred bucks to whoever sells the most today.”

  The woman beside Sophie stood then and reached for Sophie’s arm to stop her, clear worry on her face. Now it was Zac’s turn to smile, sure Sophie would step back and avoid getting beaten, which was sure to happen. Zac and Littleton Farms had twice as much produce to sell today and twice as many customers. She didn’t stand a chance. But instead of backing away like a good girl, she stuck out her hand, poised for action.

  “It’s a bet.”

  * * *

  Sophie Marsh smoothed back her long hair and adjusted her tank top, her eyes narrowing as Zac’s gaze dropped to her chest and lingered there, no hint of humility in sight.

  He flashed her a grin. “Just checkin’ out your logo.”

  Her focus dropped from his green eyes and tan skin, which made her light golden skin look albino-esque, to his fitted dark gray T-shirt, a tribal tattoo peeking out from his left sleeve and climbing down his forearm, and then finally to his low-hung jeans. “Hmm, I don’t see your logo.” She stared pointedly at his crotch. “Must not be big enough.”

  Glenda choked beside her, and Sophie spun around before Zac could reply and—okay—before she revealed what she really thought of Zac and his impossibly ripped, partially tattooed, one-hundred-percent-man physique. The thought of his biceps bulging against his T-shirt sleeves as he crossed his arms flashed through her mind, and she wished she had a fan so she could temper the flush creeping up her neck.

  Jerks shouldn’t be allowed to be hot. There should be some universal law that Mother Nature was required to abide by. Jerks should have missing teeth and consider showers optional and think wings are a superfood. But no matter what, they shouldn’t be allowed to look like Zac Littleton. Hell, or even Charlie and Brady for that matte
r. But the other two Littleton brothers didn’t cause that traitorous flurry in her stomach the way Zac did. Something about the way he defended his family to the bone made her almost like him.

  Almost.

  Glenda took another sip of water, set it down, and turned around and leaned into Sophie, who took to sorting the already sorted goods behind them. “Did you just bring the enemy’s parts into the conversation?”

  Grimacing, Sophie peered over her shoulder to see a crowd already forming around the Littleton Farms table. “Somehow I don’t think it hurt his ego too badly. God Almighty, why do people flock to them like that?” The crowd was three thick now, Zac laughing as he took orders and looking like her worst nightmare. And okay, hottest fantasy. But she was ignoring that little fact.

  “Have you noticed the demographic?” Glenda pointed at the crowd Sophie was studying like a rare scientific discovery that she needed to uncover and identify. “They’re all women, all in their twenties to forties, all staring at three men with muscles and tattoos. And then that hair.”

  “Right?” Sophie tossed her hands at her best friend in agreement. Glenda worked these events with her on weekends, despite Sophie begging her to join Fresh Foods full time. Of course, Glenda refused. The librarian hated to admit it, but she loved her day job too much to leave. Still, she helped at Fresh Foods every free chance she had, which was often. “I mean, what? Did their mama put expensive hair gel in her prenatals or something?”

  “Something, for sure.”

  The two women stared at the brothers. Brady’s hair was buzzed short, which must have broken the hearts of half the women in town. A month before, he’d had chin-length hair as wild as he was, never in place, and always looking like someone had just run her fingers through it. But then he cut it off. Honestly, it didn’t hurt him or the rumors that surrounded him one bit.