“Okay. I’ll do it.”
He pulled his keys out of his pocket and gave them to her. He wasn’t going to acknowledge the pride he felt for her as she took the keys. Raindrops started falling and he grabbed her hand and they ran down the street to his car. His car was parked under one of the old-fashioned lampposts, and he opened the driver’s side for her. He jogged over to the passenger’s side, wet from the rain that increased intensity. The inside of the car was warm, and the only sound was the rain as it beat hard against the roof and windows. Grace was staring straight ahead, anxiety stiffening all of her features.
So he shouldn’t be noticing how the rain had plastered the pale blue sundress to her body. Or that he had the insane urge to drag down the thin strap of her dress with his teeth, until there was nothing to hold it up. He wanted to kiss Grace, taste her lips and then…dammit. He should be offering Grace some sort of encouragement or diving advice instead of thinking like a redneck Neanderthal.
“It might be less intimidating if your car were a POS like mine,” she mumbled while fumbling with the ignition.
“Don’t worry about the car. That’s what insurance is for.”
She managed a little laugh.
He gave her a few pointers and instructions on some of the features of his car, so she would be more confident. She listened, taking a few deep breaths, and again, he struggled to focus on getting Grace to drive and not the impressive cleavage that was highlighted with each deep breath.
The engine purred, and she turned to him, her fingers gripping gearshift between them. The fear in her eyes propelled him to place his hand over hers. Her hand jumped beneath his. “You can do this,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse to his ears. She gave him a nod and stared straight ahead.
And then in a split second, she’d pulled the key out of the ignition, slipped her hand from his, and practically jumped out of the car. Evan swore under his breath, and before she could get far, he met her outside. Rain poured down, and he grasped her shoulders. She was crying.
“Grace,” he said, willing the odd lump in his throat to go down. For some reason, her tears didn’t make him want to run the other way. They made him want to stay. And fix things for her. That should have been his first warning to pull back.
She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the car, rain mingling with her tears. “I thought I could. I thought I could get all the memories of that day out of my head. But being in the car with you…Evan. It just brought me too close. I don’t want to go back and conquer anything. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
He felt helpless for a second as he watched the torture play across her delicate features. But he wasn’t a helpless kind of man. He didn’t sit around and watch people suffer. He didn’t know what the hell he was feeling, what he was thinking, except that he needed Grace to feel safe.
And he wanted to feel her against him, where he knew he could keep her safe.
He gently pried her hands off her face, holding her wrists. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
Her gaze leveled on his, green eyes bright and intense and filled with so much emotion that it slammed into him. “I owe you everything.”
He didn’t want that. He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted everything but her gratitude right now…and if that wasn’t about to complicate the hell out of everything. All the promises he made not to get involved… He let go of her wrists and braced his hands on the car, on either side of her head, taking a step closer, feeling the shiver of awareness that ran through her.
Maybe he could convince himself that this was his civic duty. Good Samaritan stuff and all that other crap that was involved when a person lived in a small town like Red River. He was more than willing to sacrifice himself and offer up the best thing he could offer for easing any kind of pain.
He just wanted to make her feel better.
He leaned down and gently kissed the soft flesh beneath her earlobe. She clutched his biceps and let out the sexiest sound that had every single reason why he and Grace couldn’t happen flying out the window. He trailed kisses along her wet skin until he reached her gorgeous, soft mouth.
Grace tasted like dessert, the sweetest he’d ever had.
She opened her mouth for him, and he deepened the kiss. When she tugged on the front of his shirt he stopped thinking with his head. He cupped the nape of her neck with one hand and hauled her against him. Rain soaked them, but all he could feel was Grace’s body plastered to his, all soft curves and delicious woman.
“Evan, woo-hoo!”
Evan ignored the sound, a subconscious alarm going off somewhere in his mind that some kind of mental anguish was imminent. But answering to the person calling his name would mean extracting his mouth from Grace’s, and he didn’t plan on doing that anytime soon.
“Evan! Woo-hoo!”
Evan swore, and Grace let out a soft, sexy-as-hell little whimper against his lips. He looked up for a moment, turned his head in the direction of that voice, and spotted the damn raincoat in the distance. Jacobs. Then he looked back down at the woman in his arms. An infinitely better sight.
Never one to take a hint, Eunice called out again. “Evan Manning, is that you?”
“No,” he yelled, over his shoulder. “It’s not.”
Then he lowered his head and kissed Grace like a starving man, who could only be filled by what she offered him.
Chapter Nine
Evan squinted, tilting his glass so he could peer inside carefully. Dammit. Not an ounce of vodka left between the ice cubes. He let out a sigh, placing it back on the table with a thud a little too loud to be polite and looked around. No one had noticed. Then again, it was Eunice Jacobs’s wedding, not a black-tie event. Could anyone hear a thing above the sound of that wretched conga line anyway?
Family. They filled the entire circular table he was seated at. His brothers appeared ridiculously happy, bordering on the idiotic in his opinion. And their wives, lovely of course, but again, a little on the nauseatingly happy side. Not that he begrudged them their happiness. Hell, no one was more deserving than them. Even their kids were happy: little Michael was sound asleep in his stroller beside their table, and Ella and Chris were rounding the corner in the conga line.
“Evan, why do you look like you’re going to hurl?”
He scowled in the general direction of his brother, Jake.
“Everybody move back. Evan’s had five martinis in the last two hours—”
“I did not. I was just wondering how I end up attending a wedding with you people almost every year?” Actually, he was wondering where the hell Grace had disappeared to now. All night she’d been avoiding him. And he could bet it was because of their hot-as-hell kiss last night. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. That was a problem. The only reason he’d broken off the kiss was because it had finally occurred to him they were on a public street, and the things he wanted to do with Grace weren’t exactly acceptable in public. But when he finally managed to pull away, the emotion in her eyes had rattled him. He had told himself that he only wanted to comfort her, but he was a lying bastard. Because comfort didn’t extend to spending the night in bed with Grace—which was exactly what he’d wanted to do.
But of course he’d pulled away, even though it had taken more self-control than he knew he possessed. Her lips had been swollen, her eyes filled with passion, and it had taken her a moment to regain her balance. She was sexy as hell. And off-limits.
He didn’t know what they were going to do about that problem.
“Maybe the next wedding we attend will be yours,” his sister-in-law Holly said with a wink.
He let out a choked cough. “Don’t think so, Holly.”
Dinner was winding down, and the newlyweds had already finished their first dance—a lively flamenco that had everyone on their feet clapping when it was over. He looked across the flower-and-candle-filled table at his brothers and their wives. It amazed him how perfect they seemed for one another. Like the
y fit together. The kind of stuff you saw in movies. The kind of relationships that he never really thought existed.
“You know, I think they make a sweet couple,” Claire said, and everyone at their table turned to stare at her. His pretty sister-in-law’s cheeks turned red. “I know Eunice drove me crazy when we were planning the flower arrangements for the wedding at my shop, but they really are cute together. And despite their age, they’re getting married, ready to start again. I’ve got to admire that. It’s like they knew that being alone was so much worse than taking the risk to love someone,” she said, linking her fingers through Jake’s. His brother mumbled something but leaned forward to give Claire a kiss on the temple.
“So I just found out some interesting news,” Quinn said, leaning back in his chair. Of course, when his eldest brother spoke, everyone listened. Quinn had that quiet authority and the man knew how to use it. “Apparently, our boy Ev here was seen inhaling Grace’s face last night in Port Ryan.”
A series of gasps and snickers made their way around the table. Dammit.
Holly punched Quinn, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just found out—news was traveling down the conga line.” He laughed, holding up his hands.
“What are you doing participating in a conga line, anyway?” Evan muttered.
“Hey. My little girl asks me to dance? I dance.”
“I really like Grace,” Claire said, more to Holly than to him, as though he hadn’t even spoken. Grace fit in. Almost as though she’d known them all for years. Other than blushing a few times when Chris would make some too-loud comments on all the food, she and his sisters-in-law had talked nonstop.
Holly nodded. “Me, too, she’s perfect,” she whispered to Claire, who nodded. Evan wasn’t about to ask, Perfect for what? because that would mean he was entertaining whatever future plans they were making for his life.
“Thanks, Quinn. Just what I needed tonight,” Evan said lifting his glass in salute.
Quinn’s smiled grew wider. “Not a problem, man. It’s great having you back in Red River. And I’m happy you’re having such a good time here. According to the second rumor in the conga line I heard something about some…how was it worded again? Ah yes, sexy-time shenanigans going on in one of the change rooms at Sally’s store.”
Again more gasps and snickers. He needed to find his partner in these escapades, and he needed to find her before someone brought up the blasted chickens.
He stood, pushing the chair with the back of his knees. “It’s been a pleasure, guys.” Evan stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked from his sisters-in-law to Grace, who was now standing under one of the lit trees on the edge of the woods.
“Later,” Evan said, not waiting for a smartass comment from any of them.
His eyes were on Grace, who was slowly walking farther into the trees. Claire and her team of florists had done an amazing job, turning the old apple orchard into something that looked like it was straight out of a fairy tale. In May, all the apple trees blossomed with spectacular, showy white flowers. And then Claire’s crew had strung tiny, twinkling white lights through the branches. The effect was spectacular, especially now that the sky had darkened to a deep, inky indigo.
He weaved his way around the round tables, his eyes on Grace. He was stopped a few times by different patients he’d seen during the week. They told him how much better they were feeling or updated him on their condition.
His mind was on Grace, not wanting her to get away. Finally, he was able to make his way over to her. The live band struck up an old jazz favorite, and the hum of the music wafted through the trees, Grace clearly in his sight. His eyes traveled the curvy length of her body, and he noted with a slight smile that she had taken off her heels and was holding them in her right hand.
…
Grace sensed Evan approaching. She slowly turned to look at him, her breath catching in a flurry of attraction. His thick, dark hair was clean-cut but mussed up enough to make her ache to run her fingers through it. Wide shoulders filled out his dark suit, and the crisp, white shirt highlighted the sun-kissed skin.
She couldn’t get last night out of her head. Evan had kissed her like she was the only woman in the world. His lips had been hot and demanding, his body hard and protective as she’d stood in his arms…and held on for dear life. Need had consumed her. Desire had filled her until he’d ended it, he the only one of them having enough common sense to remember they were on a public street.
Evan gave her a half smile as he stood in front of her. “Hi,” he said in a deliciously deep voice. The look in his eyes told her last night was still very much on his mind.
She attempted a smile up at him, suddenly wishing she hadn’t taken off her heels. “Hi.” She sighed deeply, the words on her tongue not the ones she really wanted to say. Maybe it was the wedding, maybe it was the martinis and champagne his family had been forcing down her throat, but what she wanted was to pretend that they were together. But then she remembered that all this was fleeting. He was leaving, and she was determined to stay and start a new life. He wasn’t a man who wanted a family, a wife. He didn’t want fatherhood, and she needed to recite that over and over again…especially when he looked good enough to eat.
She toyed with the straps on her sandals as she held them in her hands. “I’m sorry I flaked out last night with the whole driving thing.”
“Don’t be. You weren’t ready, that’s all,” he whispered in a voice that made her toes curl into the ground. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ll get there. But, the consolation prize was pretty good,” he said, giving her a slow, sexy grin. “C’mon,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Evan, I don’t think any of this is a good idea,” she whispered. She could hear the low chatter of guests, and the slow, romantic music from the band encircled them out here in the privacy under the trees. She glanced over at Christopher, who was busy dancing with Ella.
“A dance, Grace.” His deep voice was deliciously gruff, his blue eyes shadowed under the twinkling lights. Her mouth went dry. Last night, she’d had a taste of Evan, and she couldn’t forget. The feel of his hard body against hers, the taste of his mouth, the pressure of his lips…the uncontrollable desire she’d felt when he kissed her as though she were the only thing in the world that existed and he wasn’t ever going to let go. She was falling for him, and he would be the third man in her life to leave her. She couldn’t do that. Not this time, because she had Christopher to think about.
“Grace.”
Her heart kicked into a gear it had never operated at with anyone else, and she knew what her answer was going to be. She couldn’t say no.
“Just a dance,” he murmured, reaching out for her. The instant his large, warm hand enveloped hers, she knew she wouldn’t be able to refuse him.
“I think we should talk first,” she whispered in a futile attempt to gain some control. “About the chicken debacle,” she blurted out in an attempt to distract him.
His laugh sounded strangled, but he didn’t miss a beat. Instead he looked even sexier, with his eyes twinkling. “Don’t think about the chickens. They’re being battered and fried—”
“That’s awful.” She laughed.
“Come here, Grace,” he said, gently pulling her to him.
She drew a shallow breath, enough that the scent of him sent a shiver of awareness through her.
Evan’s hand curled around hers, pulled her close, and she slowly relaxed against his tall, strong body. She inhaled the tantalizing scent of his cologne, of him. The gentle sway of his body against hers was lulling her softly into a place that still had dreams. There was something about being in his arms that seemed so reassuring and at the same time completely electrifying. His chest was hard and powerful under her cheek, and his arms were solid and strong.
“I don’t know what we’re doing, Evan,” she whispered.
“Neither do I, sweetheart,” he said gruffly.
Sweetheart. Sweeth
eart. Sweetheart. The endearment he’d whispered that day. She looked down at his hand, and a wave of recognition stole through her. Memories of the accident flashed through her psyche. Memories that would only surface at night, while she slept and had no control over her subconscious. He’s fine. He’s going to be okay. I’m getting you both out. I’m going to get you out of here, sweetheart. She tried to breathe. Her eyes burned with tears as she stared up at Evan. In unison they both stopped dancing. He stood still, his expression almost unreadable except for the slight frown.
She reached out for his right arm, her eyes not leaving his. She took his strong hand in hers, slowly turning it over, and then she looked down. At the angry red marks that had transformed his otherwise perfect flesh. She had seen them, working with him every day, but she’d always looked away quickly. But now…she couldn’t run from this man anymore, or the feelings she’d developed for him. She paused for a second, taking a deep breath before unbuttoning his cuff. And he let her. He stood there, and she slowly rolled up his shirtsleeve and revealed the forearm that was still strong, still powerful, but battered and scarred. She shook her head, and her body trembled as the truth swam through her with a velocity that she wasn’t prepared for. The truth, the damage to his perfect body was entirely overwhelming.
“Say, ‘Everything is going to be fine sweetheart,’” she whispered.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes not leaving hers. Familiar. “Pardon?”
She tried to breathe against the heaviness in her chest. “Please. Say, ‘Sweetheart, everything is going to be fine.’”
He swallowed, his face hard, his eyes filled with anguish. “Sweetheart, everything is going to be fine,” he whispered roughly. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. Her forehead fell against his chest. Flashes of blue eyes, of hands, of whispered reassurances played across her mind as she fought the memories, of the reality. The memory of his scream and the orange blaze stole the remaining breath from her.
Her voice trailed off, and she covered her face, unable to fully grasp the enormity of everything that had just happened. She felt Evan’s strong, warm hands slowly grasp hers, taking them off her face. “I don’t know how I can ever—”
The Doctor's Fake Fiancee Page 11
