by Cate Masters
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Blue Moon Over Bliss Lake
Copyright © 2013 by Cate Masters
ISBN: 978-1-61333-638-0
Cover art by Mina Carter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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Charmed
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Coming Soon from Cate Masters
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Blue Moon Over Bliss Lake
Blue Moon Series – Book 1
By
Cate Masters
~DEDICATION~
For Gary, my hometown honey
Chapter One
Carter Grove drained the last drops of coffee from the paper cup. He flipped it into the disposal container, simultaneously scanning through the text messages on his smart phone. The Pennsylvania Turnpike rest stop was only a jumble of noise and images around him as he aimed himself toward the building’s exit.
Killer week. Thanksgiving complicated his schedule, like every other holiday. Man, he hated the last two months of the year. Not only dark and depressing months, but all the Year-to-Date business issues became End-of-Year crises. Especially this year, with the upgraded tablet due out—their best yet, and most anticipated by the public.
Speaking of which…. He pressed a contact on his cell. “Carl. How’s it going?” Not a casual question for his top project manager. “What do you mean, you ran into a glitch? Right before the deadline?” He strode hard toward the exit, as if his steps could speed up the process for his employee. “Okay, I’ll log in remotely, after I get to the hotel.” Christ, that’s all I need. Problems before a holiday.
One quick check of the jammed parking lot, and he homed in on his BMW. The sun had fallen below the horizon and dusk had given over to a deeper indigo sky, with only a blazing ribbon of orange like an alert signal beneath heavy dark clouds. He’d have to drive like hell to make the hotel then cram in a few hours on the laptop.
Another call came as soon as he disconnected. “Grove.”
He squinted when one last burst of sunlight blossomed along the horizon, momentarily blinding him as he pushed through the first set of glass doors.
Vaguely aware of someone following close behind, he grabbed for the door before it swung and hit…. He glanced back and at the sight of her, lost his grip on the door. Is it…? Impossible.
Head down, she bumped into his chest. He reached out protectively and she walked straight into his arms. The jolt knocked his cell from his hand and sent it skidding across the dirty linoleum floor.
Noise faded when both sets of doors closed, leaving the two of them in the space between. Shafts of light illuminated them, until her brown hair glowed a golden sheen and blotting all else from view. Except her.
“Sorry.” When she lifted her head, her sad eyes met his, her soft utterance becoming a sharp breath. Her lips parted as surprise crossed her face, then changed back to sadness. And longing.
Intense longing. He’d buried that same emotion deep inside himself years ago, but one look at her, and it flooded up. Engulfed him. He could only stare into her beautiful hazel eyes, drawing him in deep, dizzying as a whirlpool.
So many questions filled his mind, all the same things he’d asked himself throughout the years. How was she doing, what sort of life had she made for herself? It all jumbled into one loaded word: “Sierra?” Ten years had hardly touched her. Thinner and her face more angular, but adding elegance to what had been youthful prettiness.
“Are you all right?” Stupid thing to ask, but he’d wondered it so many times over the years. Wondered whether she was happy. Most importantly, did she think of him as often as he thought of her?
He could have called her to find out. Wanted to, but how awkward would that have been? Man, he couldn’t believe she was there. In his arms.
His grip tightened around the elbows of her jacket. Why doesn’t she speak? “Sierra Thomas? Or is it O’Brien?” She couldn’t have split up with her husband. Someone would have told him.
The intensity in her eyes faded. “Thomas. I’m married.”
Had she forgotten him? “It’s me, Carter. Carter Grove?”
“Yes.” It came out in a breathy rush, a sound of relief. Was she pretending not to remember? The nights in his father’s pickup, the view of the stars obstructed by the steamed windshield? Oh yes, they made a lot of heat back then. Summer, fall, winter, and spring. It had left a lasting burn. Deep inside, he still carried the scar.
A burst of noise stole the moment. Teen boys ambled past then one bent down. “Hey, a cell.”
Without breaking eye contact, she called to them, “It’s his.”
The boy shuffled over. “Sorry about that.”
Carter wished the kid would go away. He didn’t want the damn phone. He only wanted to hold her.
She shifted from his embrace and took the cell from the teen. “Thank you.” She offered it to Carter. “Sorry, I’m normally not so clumsy.”
“Not your fault. I didn’t pay attention to where I was going.” His life in a nutshell. Had he focused on his personal life instead of devoting his energy to creating an innovative tech business, he’d never have let her get away. His biggest regret.
His fingers brushed hers—slim, long. They used to fit so perfectly entwined with his. He closed his hand around hers and an ache swelled in his chest.
Alarm registered in her eyes, then the sorrow returned. With a slight shake of her head, she withdrew from him.
No. I can’t lose her again. Tension wound up, electrified his nerves. To keep from babbling something stupid, he pressed his lips together. So
he wouldn’t reach for her again, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Why the hell did he suddenly feel like a fraud in this damn suit?
“So, are you going home for a visit? Is Ted with you?” Acid-like, the thought burned his gut. He peered past the grimy glass to the parking lot.
She appeared to deflate in front of him. “No.”
Something about her—vulnerability…he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but a surge of protectiveness overcame him and he stepped closer to her.
A middle-aged couple crashed into their moment on their way to the parking lot. Outside, shafts of sunlight retreated into a point somewhere beyond the evening sky, and the harsh overhead lighting stole any appearance of warmth.
She backed toward the exit. “Good to see you. Give my regards to your family.”
“Are you in town for a while?” he called after her. “Maybe we could—”
“Goodbye, Carter.” She rushed through the doors. Outside, she gave him one last glance, then turned and ran, but the words hung in the air until the exit sealed again.
Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, it occurred he should move; it always annoyed him when others blocked the most traveled-through spot of the rest stop. But he could only stand in the now-vacuous space and watch her disappear into the fading dusk.
Her shoulder-length brown hair swung from side to side, curtaining her face when she stopped at a compact car. Fumbling with the driver’s side handle, she climbed in. The brake lights flashed as she reversed, the car jerked to a stop, then forward. Another vehicle halted and honked behind her, and then she was nothing but a shadow behind the wheel, zooming past.
He held his breath until the small vehicle safely entered the stream of cars along the Turnpike, a smoother merge than the hasty exit she’d made.
Talk about a blast from the past. He’d never gone to any of their high school reunions to avoid that very scenario—running into Sierra O’Brien.
Thomas. She’s married.
And she’d had no hesitation reminding him about it. The harshest rejection he’d suffered in years, but why did it sting so badly? And how long had it been since he’d felt…hell, anything? How long since someone had looked at him like they saw Carter, the man, instead of Carter, the business owner? One look from her, and they’d clicked, the same way they had years ago.
He inspected the dead phone. Before today, it would have sent him into a frenzy, searching for a replacement cell, worried about what calls he might miss. He should walk, do something, but without her in his arms, he felt insubstantial, like he might blow away with the slightest breeze. Like she’d stepped back into his life from the past and, with one embrace, had swept away all the things he’d thought were important.
“Weird.” The word echoed through the rest stop space.
A man entering the building shot him a worried glare.
Long after her car sped out of view, he stared at the taillights of the vehicles, all moving away from him. All heading toward home.
Toward Bliss.
Yeah, ironic name, all things considered. Growing up there had been blissful, though, especially the last two years of high school, with her smiling up at him from under his arm, beneath him in his dad’s truck…. Desire hit him with the force of 180-proof vodka, radiating through his bloodstream to his fingertips and toes.
Whoa, that hadn’t happened in a long time. Like a shot of adrenaline, it shocked him into motion. After striding outside to the car, he revved it to life and sped onto the Turnpike.
He switched on the stereo. When every commercial annoyed him, he put in a CD, but almost as fast, ejected it. Silence suited him better. Still wired, he pushed the BMW to top speed until the eighteen-wheelers, pickups, and cars receded to become only a bright dot in his rearview mirror. The headlights made the roadway’s painted strips flash in a mesmerizing pattern.
The image of her that popped into his head, her hazel eyes searching his in that last blast of sunlight, erased all other thoughts. Warmth spread over him and he ached to see her, talk to her. Hold her again. But why had she rushed off like that? Maybe her husband waited for her. Maybe a child, too.
His mood instantly soured. Don’t be a sap. The exit for his hotel appeared and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Her departure had emptied him completely. Or had he already been a hollow shell? Either way, he needed her to fill him up again.
He didn’t let up on the gas pedal until nearing the road sign for his hometown. Instead of shooting along the passing lane as usual, he stayed to the right and slowed. Next exit, one mile.
For Bliss.
***
The cold of the November day had seeped into every pore while Sierra headed to the car, even though she’d practically sprinted. What a fool she must have appeared, running from Carter like that.
The engine sputtered. Teeth chattering, she gripped the steering wheel. “Come on, come on.” Damn old car. Good thing everything in Bliss was within walking distance.
With another glance in the rearview mirror, she wondered whether Carter had run to his car and followed. Stop it, that’s ridiculous.
Is it? countered a small voice in her head. She’d fallen into his arms by accident, but then wanted to stay there. The way he’d looked at her—so full of longing and excitement, the same way he used to—he’d obviously wanted her to stay there, too. How could he still make her feel so safe, so totally loved, in that one brief encounter?
Now you’re really being stupid. Grasping at the past because you haven’t felt secure for too long.
She sighed, reluctant to give in to reason. Still, it provided the wake-up call she needed, logic snapping its fingers in front of her glazed eyes with a sarcastic hello? She swiped at her cheek, and wetness on her fingertips surprised her. Tears? She hadn’t cried for months. Sure, she’d wept after Ted’s death, for plenty of reasons. One she hated to admit even to herself—relief. No more listening to his rants, worse with every drinking binge. And after he’d lost his job, those had grown all too frequent.
Time to let go. Literally and figuratively. Let the past stay buried.
She settled in for the thirty-minute drive. Memories of Carter took shape and came alive, as surely as if he sat in the passenger seat keeping her company, like he used to. She almost felt the warmth of his arm slung behind her, his fingers twining her hair….
God, why did she have to see him, of all people? He’s not heading home, too, I hope. Sudden discomfort caused her to shift in the driver’s seat. Could she handle seeing him again? But no need to worry about it since his successful business had him traveling all over the world. Thanksgiving was still days away, and she’d never noticed him in town for the holidays, not once in the past ten years.
His touch back at the rest stop had left a deeper imprint on her than six years with Ted ever had. God, why did Carter have to see her now, at her pathetic worst? And when he’d offered to get together…. The last thing she wanted to hear about: his perfect life. Not when hers was in ruins.
No. Not ruins. You’re starting over. Lots of people did it. Then why did you just escape like Bonnie and Clyde after a heist? Not exactly a smooth getaway. Her shin still hurt from hitting the car’s sideboard.
Usually a drain, the drive energized her. A one-way trip home. The old billboard at the end of the exit ramp still announced, You’re on the road to Bliss!
The words brought a temporary smile. Wouldn’t it be nice if bliss really were a tangible place and anyone could simply drive there?
She steered onto familiar streets. Even at night, the little town oozed charm and looked much the same as it had while she’d been growing up. Its eleven thousand residents appeared to share the view that cheerful colors brightened their homes’ exteriors. Autumn wreaths graced every door, every yard cared for but not manicured in that cold, calculated way some neighborhoods had, though the trees hadn’t finished shedding their leaves. The kind of place that opened its arms in welcome.
&nbs
p; Doubts had nagged her before, but vanished. For the first time in almost a year, warmth wrapped around her heart and chased away the lingering chill. And her fears.
She drove toward her parents’ home at the edge of town and slowed near the driveway. No lights on inside. Probably still at the shop.
The outside light shone on the guest cottage, so she pulled past the tall evergreens forming a dividing line between the house and the cottage. A few years ago, when her parents bought the adjoining property, she’d worried they’d taken on too much. Another home to rent out for extra income also meant extra maintenance. Lucky for her, the tenant moved out the previous month.
As her mother had instructed, Sierra found the key in the tall planter behind the small evergreen lit with a string of white lights. The porch made a cozy little spot, nice for reading on the wooden swing.
When she stepped inside, the scent of citrus and cinnamon drifted from the kitchen. Her parents had been busy cleaning, and left a basket of scented pine cones on the counter.
The sale of her old home had gone surprisingly easily, since she’d included the furnishings and let it go at the first offer. The move was easy, too, because she’d taken only her clothes and personal possessions. She’d never have to see a cracked lamp and remember Ted’s angry face, never have to sit on the sofa he’d shoved her onto. Never have to sleep in the same bed again, smell his spicy aftershave, as bitter as him.
Enough of the bad memories. She set her purse on the table behind the sofa and scanned the shelves lining the walls. Her parents had set up the books and desktop computer she’d shipped the week before. Already, it felt like home. Maybe she’d even sleep that night. And dream of Carter.
Warmth flushed through her at the thought. It wouldn’t hurt to dream, would it? His embrace used to make her feel so safe, so loved. I’ll hold on to that feeling, if only to remind myself of what I deserve.
