by Debra Webb
After that, she had called the chief of Mercy’s ER back in St. Louis, gotten him out of bed and explained that she was taking her long overdue vacation effective immediately. He hadn’t been happy, but he had understood. Three weeks should be sufficient time for her to make a proper decision at this unexpected fork in her life’s road.
Thank God for her savings. Unlike Tristan, she was a bit more frugal in her spending—case in point, the old Buick she drove. If she decided not to go back to St. Louis, that savings would keep her afloat for the next few months.
Determined to put the past behind her and start fresh, Caroline raised her glass and toasted an entirely different new beginning, then she took a long sip of champagne and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply of the sweet country air and contemplated the future. Dianne was thrilled at her decision to visit. Her friend had never liked Tristan anyway. If only Caroline had been as insightful.
Still angry with herself for not seeing through his charm and good looks and after further consideration, she made a solemn promise to herself: No more handsome men. Why bother with good looking men? Men like that would only break her heart. Maybe she would just swear off men altogether. She had her career. What did she need with a man? Well, she amended, men could be useful at times. One man in particular leaped onto the screen in the private theater of her mind.
Refusing to replay that old memory, Caroline turned her attention to the glorious show of nature as the sun climbed higher above the distant treetops. The car suddenly dipped sharply to the right. Surprised confusion momentarily clouded her brain. Moving. The car was moving. She must have knocked the gearshift into neutral.
She could fix that. Another dip and the car started to roll down the hill. Dropping her glass, she scrambled to rearrange her legs back into the proper position beneath the steering wheel. But the confines of the little sports car and the suddenly magnified-by-fear effects of the alcohol made quick maneuvering impossible.
The car pitched forward as it gained momentum on a smoother downhill grade beyond the tall grass.
The brake! She needed to hit the brake. Panic gushed through Caroline’s veins, instantly sobering her. She grasped the steering wheel to navigate away from the chapel looming in her path. The steering column was locked. She grabbed for the keys in the ignition.
There wasn’t even time to scream. Before she could find and depress the brake the whole world exploded around her. The air bag inflated, hurling her back against the seat and obscuring her vision.
Then everything stilled. Caroline gasped for air. Her chest felt numb from the sudden, forceful pressure of the now-deflating air bag. She blinked and took stock of her surroundings. Lavender and rose colored balloons floated heavenward around her. She frowned. What the...? Streamers fluttered overhead from the rafters of the cathedral ceiling.
The chapel.
She had crashed into the chapel, which was obviously decorated for a wedding that was likely scheduled for this very day. And Caroline had ruined everything. As if to punctuate her thought, a cluster of decorative silver wedding bells collapsed onto the floor.
~*~
Chase Garrett didn’t often see strange things in these parts. The occasional drunken brawl or teenage joy rider was about as exciting as things got around Lucy’s Branch. But this, he had to admit, was damned strange. A brand new cherry red Porsche with out of state license plates had all but demolished one wall of the county’s historic wedding chapel.
He shook his head at the unbelievable damage one compact car could wreak. Of course, the building was vulnerable with age. Julie McGill sure as hell wouldn’t be getting married today. Not here anyway. He wondered briefly if he should call her mamma himself before word got out about the accident.
And to make matters worse, Chase added, his mouth forming a grim line, the driver turned out to be the one woman on the planet he never expected to see again.
Caroline.
Chase shifted and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. Eight years was a long time. Yet, in some ways, not long enough. His jaw hardened at the memories surfacing like the images of a video on forward search. The Caroline Gregory standing in front of him now in no way resembled the girl he had known, known well, all those years ago. Chase’s gaze swung from the tow truck hooking to the Porsche to the trembling woman being examined by a paramedic. Caroline had insisted that she was fine, but she had looked a little shocky and a lot shaky to Chase.
The short black dress and spiked heels made Chase’s mouth go as dry as a plowed field in August. When she had reached into her car to retrieve her purse, Chase hadn’t missed the glimpse of black lacy garters holding up those wicked stockings. The Caroline Gregory he remembered would never have dressed like that. Not in a million years.
But that mane of thick black hair that hung around her small shoulders like a curtain of silk, and those eyes, like translucent silver, he remembered all too well. And then there was that mouth. He closed his eyes to savor the memory of how it felt to kiss those lips. The natural red, pouty kind that never needed enhancing with cosmetics, and lush enough to make a preacher look at least twice.
Chase’s body stirred in response to the memories he had tried for the better part of a decade to forget. He forced his eyes open and frowned, irritated that Caroline could still evoke such a swift reaction in him. His gaze darted back to the Porsche. That was a mighty fancy car for a little girl who hailed from Lucy’s Branch. He supposed that she had done well for herself. Not that he’d expected any less. She’d graduated at the top of her pre-med class over in Memphis. Somehow her attire didn’t quite fit the image he had of a medical doctor—especially Dr. Caroline Gregory. Chase almost groaned at just how much of this older, more womanly Caroline was showcased for his blatant admiration.
When he’d gotten the call, what felt like hours ago now, he had fully prepared himself for the oddity of the whole incident. He had even prepared himself for the looker, according to the deputy on the scene. But what Chase hadn’t been prepared at all for was the wallop of intense, raw lust that broadsided him the moment he laid eyes on the perpetrator. His deputy had failed to mention a name. Chase tunneled his fingers through his hair again and heaved a disgusted breath. He thought he had gotten over the woman long ago. But the fierce jolt of pain followed quickly by anger he experienced upon recognizing Caroline blew that theory all to hell. Even the pain and anger couldn’t seem to quench the fire that still burned inside him for the one and only woman he had ever loved.
Her silvery gaze collided with his and Chase’s gut clenched. Nope, nothing had changed. He still wanted to throttle her, almost as much as he wanted to kiss her. Chase forced himself to take the five steps that brought him within reach of her. He shifted his gaze to the paramedic. “She check out okay?” He forced his thoughts back to the job, instead of lacy underwear and sensual lips.
“Yeah,” Roger replied when he looked up. “She’s a little shaken, but nothing to be concerned about.”
Chase nodded. “Good.” He turned to her, but kept his gaze a fraction above those haunting eyes. “Miss Gregory—”
“Don’t be so formal, Chase,” she chastised softly. The weariness in her voice tugged at his protective instincts.
“Caroline,” he relented, then ruthlessly squashed the desire to shield her from all unpleasantries. “I noticed the open champagne bottle in your car. I’ll need you to submit to a blood-alcohol test.” Her eyes widened with apprehension, and maybe a little surprise. “It’s standard operating procedure, Miss—Caroline.”
“I told you that I’d been drinking,” she protested. “I had three or four glasses. But I wasn’t driving. I was parked.” She turned and pointed shakily to the rise up the road. “On that little hill. I parked first, then opened the bottle.” Her last words trembled past those kissable, pouty red lips.
Chase’s gaze traced the path of destruction through the grassy meadow, then moved back to her luminous eyes. He suppressed the renewed rush of protecti
veness that surged inside him at her vulnerability then and now. Hell, it was a miracle she hadn’t been seriously injured.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, ignoring the lingering need to console her. Every irresponsible driver always had an excuse. Even a breathtakingly beautiful one with who he had once been in love. Cursing himself for dwelling on the past, Chase shifted his attention back to the paramedic. “You can handle that?”
“Sure.” Roger reached into his case for the necessary paraphernalia.
“Oh, God,” Caroline murmured.
Chase caught her by the arm when she swayed. His body tightened at the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingers, and that annoyed the hell out of him. “Maybe you’d like to sit in one of the cruisers?” he suggested, irritation with himself making his words curt.
Caroline blinked, then shook her head and pulled out of his grasp. “I’m fine. I just—”
“Sheriff, I think you’ll want to hear this,” Deputy Manning called over the grumble of the tow truck pulling forward with its load. More of the chapel’s nearly two-century-old wood siding tumbled to the ground. Caroline jerked at the sound.
“I’ll take her out to the truck,” Roger offered.
“Good. Thanks, Roger.” Chase’s attention had moved to the ominous tone in his deputy’s voice. He strode to where his deputy waited. “What’s up?”
Excitement sparkled in his young deputy’s eyes. “Everything about where she lives and works checks out,” Jess Manning said in a stage whisper. “But here’s the kicker—” he paused for effect “—that fancy sports car she’s driving is stolen.”
Chase rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. The beginnings of a headache stabbed right between his eyes. “Stolen?” That was crazy. Caroline wasn’t a thief. He had known her all his life. But a lot could change in eight years, the lawman in him argued.
Jess pushed his cap up and scanned his note pad once more. “Yes sir. It was reported about one a.m. this morning by a Dr. Tristan Rodgers of St. Louis.”
“Damn.” Chase rubbed a hand over his unshaven face. He had been in the shower when the call had come, there had been no time for a shave. He blew out a breath of frustration. “Let me see what Miss Gregory has to say about that.” He glanced toward the paramedic’s truck and the woman who had haunted his dreams for too long.
Caroline Gregory had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter Two
Caroline parted with the required blood sample, then leaned her head against the cracked vinyl upholstery of the paramedic’s truck. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and jittery with adrenaline from the accident, not to mention the emotional trauma of the night before. The full ramifications of her predicament were only now sinking in.
She had taken Tristan’s car and crashed it into an irreplaceable historic structure. In her haste, Caroline had fled her own wedding only to ruin someone else’s. Not to mention she had made an absolute fool of herself in front of Chase Garrett. She cringed inwardly. Hadn’t she been a fool for him one time too many already?
Damn. Why couldn’t she have crashed Tristan’s car in some other small town? She didn’t want to see Chase. She didn’t want to talk to him. And she sure didn’t want to want him. But that old feeling of intense need had been instantaneous, breath-stealing. Caroline’s insides trembled with lingering reaction. Today was supposed to be her wedding day, to another man. Instead of wedding bells, a desire as familiar as her own name was jangling through her veins. How could she feel this? Especially about a man who had been just as unfaithful to her as Tristan had.
Caroline wanted to close her eyes and block the whole thing out, but each time her lids closed Chase’s reaction to seeing her replayed. Shocked disbelief, hurt, then an obvious jolt of anger. He sure as hell had no right to be angry. She was the one who should be angry. She wilted, defeated. But somehow she couldn’t manage the full range of the emotion.
Her whole, perfectly orchestrated life had just gone down the tubes. She stared unseeing at the yellowed dome light overhead. Why did this have to happen to her? Today of all days? Hadn’t she been through enough in the last twenty-four hours? Grandma Colleen was surely turning over in her grave. She had always warned Caroline that the grass wasn’t greener on the other side of the fence. That big city life was not all it was cracked up to be. Follow your heart, little girl. Trust your instincts. Caroline had done neither. She had turned down a full scholarship from Vanderbilt and headed for St. Louis. Luckily, she’d gotten a similar offer from another university. She’d finished medical school in record time and entered that terrifying world of colliding egos—internship. Eventually an offer from Mercy Hospital in St. Louis had come along and then she’d met Tristan.
How in the world had that journey brought her back here?
Little doubt existed in her mind that her blood-alcohol level would not be within the legal limits, and she had smashed a hole in the side of the most famous building in this part of the state. What was worse, she couldn’t prove that she hadn’t plowed right through the place in a drunken stupor. There were no witnesses. Soon everyone in town would be privy to the morning’s escapades. Caroline swallowed the swell of tears in her throat. None of this would have happened if...
Damn Tristan and his infidelity.
Damn Chase Garrett, too. Her lips trembled. Caroline clenched her teeth to control what wasn’t quite the anger she wanted desperately to feel. She wanted to be as mad as hell at life, at Tristan...at Chase. Instead, she was only angry with herself. And disappointed, a little voice added. Grandma Colleen would be, too. An old ache shimmered through her. She had truly, completely screwed up her entire life. For the first time she was glad her grandmother wasn’t around to see the mess she had made.
“Caroline.” Chase’s deep masculine voice intruded on her self-pity session. That slow, southern drawl flowed over her like warm honey, making her shiver.
Caroline cleared her throat and quickly straightened in the seat. “Yes?” When her gaze connected with his piercing blue eyes, she shivered one more time. She had never met anyone else with eyes quite that clear, that knowing.
Giving herself a mental shake, she looked away. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. He had betrayed her eight years ago. He had broken her heart in a way that Tristan never could. But, she was long over Chase Garrett. In outright defiance of her mental pronouncement, a wistful yearning tumbled through Caroline. What was wrong with her? Shock. She blinked at the realization. A sudden, disconnected feeling sucked at her gauzy thin composure. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath to calm herself, she fought the urge to curl into the fetal position. You need your head on straight here, girl. She glanced up at Chase again. Especially with him.
“I’ll need you to come down to the office with me.”
A frown creased her brow as she studied his too familiar face in hopes of reading what was on his mind. There had been a time when she could tell exactly what he was thinking. But that time had passed. “I know you don’t believe me, but I was not driving. I was parked.”
Chase braced his muscled forearms on the cab of the truck and leaned in closer. “We’ll discuss the issue in my office.” That searing gaze burned into hers making her feel even more uncertain. “You’re not going to give me a hard time about this, are you?”
How could he still inflict such havoc with her senses? Mile-wide shoulders filled the truck’s open door and separated her from the rest of the scene going on around them. The masculinity he exuded crowded her, made her want to run as fast as she could in any direction so long as it took her away from him. Chase Garrett had grown into a strong, powerful looking man. He was even better looking now than eight years ago...
God, why did she notice that?
But, Caroline decided, trying to shift her focus to some obvious fault rather than his numerous assets, he didn’t dress like any sheriff she had ever met. Certainly not like his daddy, Garrett County’s sheriff before him. Or his gr
anddaddy, the law in Lucy’s Branch before that. Chase wore faded jeans, a plain white cotton tee and sneakers. His unruly black hair hadn’t seen a pair of barber’s scissors in far too long. And that beard-shadowed jaw lent a slightly dangerous quality to his appearance. The sexuality he radiated didn’t help either, and it was much more intense than Caroline remembered.
The only way that anyone would know Chase was an officer of the law, she considered, concluding her visual assessment, was the badge clipped at his waist and the weapon tucked at the small of his back.
Caroline squeezed her eyes shut and tried to dispel the image that did nothing to lessen her trepidation. “Why do I have to go to your office, Chase?” she asked softly, too exhausted to put any real inflection in her tone. “Are you charging me with something?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Surprised, she stared up at him. Heat rushed through her at the realization of just how close he was. Closer even than before. His face seemed only inches away now. “I don’t understand,” she managed in spite of his proximity.
“That makes two of us. Maybe there’s something else you’d like to tell me about your activities last night?”
Confusion skittered through her at the suspicion that laced his tone. “What exactly do you mean?”
One dark eyebrow arched sardonically. “You borrowed this car from your boyfriend?”
Uh-oh. Caroline moistened her lips nervously. She had forgotten all about Tristan’s reporting the car stolen. She was a thief on top of everything else. What Chase must think of her. Self-disgust mushroomed like a nuclear blast. She kicked it aside. And why should she care? She almost laughed out loud. Somewhere there had to be humor in all this, but right now she couldn’t see it.
