Town of Chance: Sweet Caroline [The Dare Series 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 5
She looked around the diner and watched the people coming and going. Could she really remain here, hidden, and recover from the fear? Maybe she was holding on to a hope that was possible and she could live a normal life. Maybe some man would come along and truly love her? She could wind up right back where she came from? In an abusive relationship. Controlled by a violent, powerful man who had the capability to kill her if he decided she was better off dead. She felt the fear grip her heart and squeeze. Shelby clutched her hand and gave her an expression of worry but also reassurance. Caroline forced a smile and then started paying attention to the conversation and avoiding the serious questions and fearful thoughts for now.
Later at night, when she was in bed all alone, she would ask the same questions and wonder if Cameron was coming for her. It was the same thing every night since she left him, she would cry herself to sleep until she was exhausted and passed out.
Please don’t let him find me. Please.
Chapter 3
Cameron Elliott stared at Caroline’s picture. His grip tightened on the bottle of beer as he took a slug and then clenched his teeth. He was practically snarling, his mind wandering and fuzzy from the alcohol.
She was beautiful. Gorgeous, petite, with her long platinum blonde hair that stood out in a crowd no matter what she was wearing. There was a sweetness, a purity about her. He owned that. He possessed it. He remembered the day they met. She was in the café and some woman brushed by her in a hurry to get to work and knocked her coffee from Caroline’s hand. She dropped the bag she was carrying and the woman didn’t even look back as she hurried from the store.
He immediately went to her to help her out. Their gazes locked, and her eyes took in his police uniform and that was it. Those gorgeous sage-green eyes drew him in and he immediately knew that she was his. Even as some other guy tried to assist, he got rid of him. Told him he could move along. When the guy walked away, appearing shocked, Cameron told her he did that so the guy wouldn’t bother her and he lied and said he noticed the man watching her earlier and it concerned him. A light blush formed on her cheeks as they stood and he knew she was interested. That she wanted a man who cared, who was protective, and looked out for her.
That was his job, his life. She was his everything.
He licked his lips and then guzzled down the remainder of beer. It was empty and he went to place it down onto the coffee table in front of him and it fell over and landed on the rug.
He leaned back, wiped the bit of drool off his mouth, and exhaled.
“I own you, Caroline. I invested time, patience in training you and making you the perfect woman for me. I’m the only man you’ve ever been with, baby.” He traced her cheek with his finger, pissed off that she wasn’t here and that he couldn’t feel her soft, silky skin against him.
“Where are you, baby? Who are you with? Why did you leave me? You know you can’t live without me,” he whispered, his anger getting the better of him. He thought about how he hurt her. How he broke her arm because she said she wanted to leave and he wouldn’t let her. He should have seen the defiance coming. He was getting too jealous all the time. He didn’t even want her to leave his side. He couldn’t concentrate at work and would call her, text her, stop by her job, or even sit outside as if he were doing surveillance. When he would see a male coworker talking with her, it enraged him. He made the mistake of questioning her and saying that he saw her talking to a man at work. When her eyes widened and she began to step away from him and ask him how he could do that and why he didn’t trust her but he asked her to trust him, he knew he pushed her too far.
“Fuck!” He ran his fingers through his hair and placed the picture down onto the table.
He missed her. He craved her body, her sweetness and that petite yet sexy figure of hers pressed against him at night. He missed her standing by his side at the bars and clubs where they met his friends. Friends who envied him. Friends who now said to give her some space and let her breathe a little. They saw his obsession with her. Curtis warned him, too. She could have pressed charges of assault against him, but she didn’t. He thought about why and he knew the answer. She still loved him. She wanted him back but he overwhelmed her. It would be different next time. He would give her a little more time to breathe, to process everything and realize that she belonged to him and no one else.
That thought nearly brought the beer back up from his belly. He swallowed the burning sensation down and clenched his face and teeth. She better not be with another man. She’s mine. All mine, and if I can’t have her, then no one will have her. I’ll find you, Caroline. When I do, there’ll be hell to pay. That I promise.
* * * *
Hunter Mantel drove his Harley into town. He was chopping wood all morning, knowing that he and his brothers along with some friends would be watching some football by the outdoor fireplace this Sunday. First they needed to get through tonight at Spencer’s. He really didn’t want to go but their friend’s band was playing and everyone was attending. Being social, hanging out in crowds, wasn’t his thing. He had a little anxiety and would get this sensation like something bad would happen. He knew it had to do with his final mission in the military and he was seeing someone for it, but it wasn’t helping him get rid of the sensation. At least he wasn’t compelled to take off like weeks ago.
As he parked the bike and turned off the engine, he noticed a few young women walking out of his mom’s clothing store. They looked right at him, smiling and checking him out, but they were girls, too young, maybe college-aged, and he had no interest in them. His profession had hardened him in so many ways. He was kind of rigid and ornery. He spoke his mind, sometimes seemed condescending, especially to people who didn’t yet have a clue about real life, about violence, about events on a larger scale. The naive youthfulness of a woman only could go as far as the bedroom. He was long past relationships like that. Long past being intimate with a woman for any reason other than to satisfy an itch and ease his mind from the nightmares that rocked his brain and were eternally imbedded in his heart.
He eased off the bike, placed his helmet down, and stretched his legs. His mother mentioned that she had gotten some new dress shirts in. He wasn’t one to shop. Liked to go in, buy what he needed, and leave. He hoped his mother didn’t try to make him try on shit. He cursed under his breath as he walked along the sidewalk. He wondered why the fuck he even came here. He should have ordered online. Then he wouldn’t have to see anyone.
As he opened the door, preparing himself for his mom and her overbearing antics and need to baby him, he looked around and caught sight of something that immediately caught his full attention.
Initially it was the long tanned legs beneath a short black skirt. Then as he glanced upward, he saw the platinum-blonde hair that nearly reached a perfectly round ass, and a dark black cast on an arm trying to pull down some boxes on the highest shelf in the store. The ladder had five rungs to it and the petite young woman couldn’t reach what she wanted. That cast covering what had to be a broken arm didn’t help matters and then he saw her teetering as she stupidly stood on tiptoes and then on one foot, reaching for the top box.
He hurried over, his hands gripping her hips as she gasped and boxes tumbled down on the both of them. She lost complete balance as something hit her hard and he caught her just as he heard his mother scream out.
What he thought was a young teenage or college girl turned out to be a woman with gorgeous sage-green eyes and one hell of a set of breasts that were pouring from the blouse she wore. She was as light as a feather as he held her in his arms, but she didn’t seem pleased that he just saved her and was now holding her against his chest. In fact, he had the feeling if he didn’t put her down she might strike him.
“Let go of me. Who the hell are you?” she yelled at him, shocking the sense back into him as she wiggled her sexy ass and he set her down before he dropped her. Holy shit, he was practically drooling over the woman and she looked scared. Hell, terrified.
“We need some ice. Come sit down,” he said as he reached for her shoulder and to push the strands of hair from her cheeks so he could see the damage. The woman slapped his hand away.
“I think you did enough,” she said and covered the lump with her hand as she turned to walk and seemed off-kilter.
He reached for her hips to guide her.
“Easy, honey, you took a hell of a hit from those boxes.”
He brought her behind the counter and she sat down, immediately crossing her legs and closing her eyes to exhale.
“Oh my God, please tell me I didn’t break anything,” she said, obviously worried about it.
“Here, Hunter. Help Caroline and hold the ice on her forehead,” his mom said.
Caroline’s eyes popped open just as he knelt in front of her and started to place the ice on her forehead by her temple. Their gazes locked and he couldn’t help but to absorb her plump lips or the fearful expression. He knew he was a big man. His height intimidated a lot of people of average height, but to someone as dainty and feminine as this little thing, he must appear giant like.
“I can do that,” she whispered, her cheeks red, probably embarrassed for falling like she did. He took in the sight of her and licked his lips as their fingers touched and she took the bag of ice from his hand.
“Are you sure, sugar?” he asked, and she gulped as she looked up into his eyes and nodded her head.
God, she’s gorgeous and definitely shy. When he stood up, he watched her eyes widen at his height.
“Don’t worry, Caroline, this is one of my sons, Hunter. Thank goodness he came by today. I told that other girl Liz that she stacked those boxes too high. What a mistake it had been hiring her,” Martha said and exhaled.
“Well, might I suggest moving those things to a more reasonable height, or else your new employee could break something else,” he teased as he looked at her cast. Caroline’s expression changed and she looked about ready to cry as her eyes filled with tears. He felt badly for making fun of her. It was a first for him. He spoke his mind and he never gave a shit about offending anyone or hurting their feelings.
But she quickly looked away.
“I’ll clean it up,” she whispered and then stood up. Martha covered her shoulder with her hand.
“You may need to see Doc Anders,” she told Caroline and Hunter watched Caroline’s body language change. She straightened out her shoulders, set the ice pack down on the counter, and brushed by the two of them.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m fine. Really, Martha. No doctor necessary,” she said and then headed back over to the ladder.
Hunter looked at her go and then at his mom. He could see the concerned expression and then heard his mom exhale.
“She’ll be okay. If she feels dizzy or has any other symptoms then just call over for the doctor. He’ll come here, you know that.”
His mom cleared her throat. “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said and he had a feeling something was bothering his mother, but then as she went behind the counter and took the bag of ice she planted on a smile.
“So, to what do I owe this surprise visit?” she asked.
He looked back at Caroline then to his mom.
“Who is she? Where did she come from?” he asked and his mom looked shocked as she raised one of her eyebrows up at him. He knew his tone was commanding and bossy. He couldn’t help it. He answered to no one anymore. Only to himself.
“She’s Shelby’s sister. That’s all I know. Let me get rid of this ice,” his mom said and then the phone began to ring.
“Darn it. I need to answer this. It may be the dads calling about the plumber,” she said and then she looked toward Caroline.
“Caroline, could you show Hunter those shirts that just came in that you arranged this morning, please? I need to take the call,” she said and then answered the phone and walked into the back room.
Hunter looked at Caroline, who shyly placed her hair behind one ear.
He had a bunch of questions popping into his head about the woman, but he shook those thoughts away as he headed toward her.
“They’re over here,” she whispered and he followed her. His eyes glued to her ass as he realized she had one hell of a body.
“There are some on this rack over here and then a bunch more on this shelf here. Do you need help finding a size?” she asked, looking him over.
“Maybe,” he said, staring at her. She sure was pretty. Holy shit, he was acting like some horny teenager. Meanwhile he had to be a good ten years older than this woman.
She looked at him.
“You don’t know what size you are in a shirt?” she challenged.
“Didn’t say that,” he replied.
She raised one of her eyebrows up at him in challenge, and he couldn’t help but feel lighthearted. It surprised him. No woman ever made him bite his tongue or to feel on pins and needle for the right things to say. He was hardcore, but this little angel, she did something to him.
“I could use the help. Maybe pay me back for saving you from further broken bones,” he teased as he started thumbing through the shirt rack. He could hardly concentrate on the colors and patterns. His mind was solely on Caroline and her response to him.
“I appreciate you catching me. It could have been worse.”
He looked at her as she started looking through the rack aimlessly, too.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased about the thank you and she smirked, shook her head, and looked through the shirt rack.
“So how did you break your arm?” he asked and her dainty manicured fingers stopped and gripped the hanger on one shirt.
“I was a bit clumsy and broke a heel in a crack in the sidewalk. I used my arm to brace the fall.”
“Ah, so you’re a klutz?” he teased, staring at the shirt he was holding. He heard her gasp and then he looked at her, eying her over. “A very beautiful klutz,” he added, surprising himself by being so flirty and forward, and obviously shocking her. Her face turned a nice shade of red and she looked panicked.
“So what size did you say you were?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Extra large. Tall, too, if ya have it,” he said, letting the words move slowly off his lips. Damn, his cock was hard, and his mind imagined getting lost in exploring her sexy little body for hours upon hours. She was really something else. No woman ever got him this hot and bothered and definitely not in some chance meeting in the damn clothing store. He imagined exploring her breasts with his mouth—hell, every inch of her—slowly, carefully. She was feminine and petite, dainty, and he would be protective, cautious, and caring in his exploration. His gut clenched. Could he be too much of a man for such a sweet little angel to handle? He felt unworthy. Sort of unconfident for thinking he could get a woman like her, hell, be enough for a woman so sweet. He shook his head. What the fuck is wrong with me? What am I thinking?
“Of course we do. It’s a common size around here,” she said, deflating his bubble and making him squint at her. Then she locked gazes with him and seemed to bite her lip in an attempt to stop from laughing. She did like him. She was definitely attracted to him, but she wasn’t the flirty type. Hell, maybe inexperienced and he was older.
They looked through the shirts and he pulled out one in gray.
“This one?” he asked, holding it up against his chest. She shook her head.
“Why not? I kind of like gray.”
“It’s okay, but it doesn’t do much for you. This color would be great,” she said and took out a deep blue color. He wasn’t too sure as he took the shirt and looked at it.
“Hold it against the front of you and look into the mirror
over here,” she said and when she placed her hand on his arm to turn him and direct him toward the mirror, hot damn did he feel something. Tiny little vibrations of awareness rocked through his veins. She pulled away, but not before he saw a similar reaction in her eyes. She felt it, too.
“What do you think?” she asked, standing next to him.
He stared at the reflection in the mirror but then his eyes went to Caroline. Her head barely reached his neck. The sight made him feel protective, like she needed a strong capable man to watch over her.
“Look, it brings out the blue in your eyes. It’s a great color for you.”
“You think so?” he asked, feeling a bit awkward. He hated shopping for anything. He disliked staring at himself in a mirror. Yet here he was conversing about clothes with this woman he just met, and he didn’t lose interest or get angry and end the conversation abruptly. In fact he wanted to know more about her.
“I’m going to Spencer’s tomorrow night to listen to a friend’s band play.”
“Oh, Cowboy Corruption?” she asked, surprising him as she turned back toward the rack. She pulled another two shirts out, one in black and one in burgundy.
“If you prefer these colors, they would look nice, too,” she said.
“You know the band?” he asked.
“No, my sister’s friends are going and they were talking about it. They’re excited.”
“Well they’re a good band and the guys are talented. Are you going, too?” he asked her and felt nervous. Holy fucking shit, why the hell was he so damn nervous? He was fucking thirty years old. He faced death head-on in the service, and this petite little angel was making his palms sweat and his heart race. His dick felt so fucking hard he prayed she didn’t look down at his crotch. He pulled the shirt in front of him to hide his obvious desire.