“Turn off at the next exit,” she instructed, catching sight of the thruway signs.
Instead, he passed right by her parents’ exit. “Chase?”
“I know where I’m going. You’re going to have to trust me, sweetheart. Can you do that this time?”
She let out a wry laugh. “That’s a good one. When did I ever not trust you?” She’d trusted him with her life and he’d delivered, every time.
“When I told you I loved you and you pushed me away,” he said bluntly.
“Touché.” Just as she’d begun to suspect, she really had contributed to messing things up between them. He wasn’t solely to blame. She rolled her head to the side, glancing out the window into the dark night. “Chase?”
“Yes?”
“I pushed you away and you didn’t think I wanted to hear from you, right?”
“Right.”
The truck drove over a bump in the road and her shoulder took the brunt of the turn. She winced, ignoring the pain. “Then what are you doing here now?”
“I want to be here.” Chase glanced over and immediately noticed the strain in Sloane’s face, the exhaustion evident by the dark circles under her eyes.
She still hadn’t completely recovered from the shooting incident, but she had returned to work after merely one weekend of rest. Not enough in Madeline’s opinion, nor in Chase’s. Which was why he was kidnapping her, so to speak. Raina may have given up matchmaking, but Madeline had been only too happy to provide him with easy access to her stepdaughter.
Chase couldn’t read Sloane’s reaction to his words. She hadn’t turned back to face him and remained quiet for the duration of the trip, until he parked in a graveled parking lot by a small inn.
“Where are we?” She turned to him at last.
“A place where you can rest.” He strode out of the truck and walked around to her side, opening the door for her.
She glanced up at him. “Do I have a say in this?”
“If you say you’ll follow me inside, then yeah, you have a say.” He pointed toward the renovated dairy barn that now served as a luxurious inn.
“Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing.” He lifted their suitcases out of the back and shut the door. He ignored the urge to back her against the truck and kiss her until she stopped talking, stopped arguing, stopped doing anything except loving him. But he’d tried that last time and it hadn’t worked. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
Since he’d already checked in earlier this evening, he didn’t have to bother with paperwork now. Instead, he led Sloane up a short flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway to their dimly lit sitting room. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, adding to the atmosphere he’d wanted to create for her. Intimate, private, and solemn.
Once they were inside, she glanced around, taking in the paneled walls and old-world charm. “This place really is beautiful.”
He helped take her jacket off, careful not to hurt her shoulder. A bandage still covered her wound and the thick padding stuck out from her shirt. “My parents came here on their honeymoon and every anniversary after.”
She turned around, obviously startled. Her pupils dilated, the significance of their surroundings kicking in at last, he hoped. He wasn’t sure he could take much more anticipation, not knowing what she was thinking or feeling.
“I take it you brought me here for a reason?” she asked. “Besides me needing rest?”
He grunted. “You do need rest. And I’m going to see that you get some.” He caressed the dark skin beneath her eyes with the pad of his thumb.
At his simple touch, a soft moan escaped her throat. Acting on instinct, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, invading her personal space and bringing her squarely into his.
To hell with leading into things slowly. “I love you, I missed you, and I want you in my life. Forever,” he said gruffly.
A smile lifted her lips. “Keep talking.”
“You were right not to believe I was ready for commitment,” he said, explaining what he’d only just come to understand.
She blinked, her eyes wide and comprehending. “I never wanted you to look back and resent me or feel like I trapped you during a weak moment.” She shrugged with her good arm. “I’d rather know you were happy without me than miserable with me.”
“Not a chance,” he growled. “But I do have a lot to tell you.”
“Then do you think we can sit down? I’m still kind of weak.”
Taking in her pale face, he agreed. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” Chase lifted her into his arms and settled her down on the couch across from the fireplace. Feeling more hopeful than when he’d surprised her at the airport, he joined her. He wanted to see her face as he explained his past, his present, and their future, and how he’d come to the realizations that he’d reached.
Sloane licked her dry lips, waiting in silence, wondering what Chase had to say. She understood it was serious and knew he’d put a lot of thought into where, when, and how to share his feelings with her. She understood too that whatever he had to say would determine their future, and her heart pounded hard in her chest.
“Talk to me.” Reaching over, she grabbed his hand, needing to feel his heat and strength.
“Remember I told you my dad died and I took over all aspects of the family?” His eyes dilated as the memories overtook him.
She nodded. “Of course I remember.”
“Well, I was sitting and holding Lilly, Roman and Charlotte’s baby, and marveling at how this little person had already wormed her way into my heart.”
She shivered at the imagery he’d given her—Chase, his big, strong hands holding a baby—and she wished it were their baby he was holding. Wished and hoped that’s what he desired too. “And?”
“And I started thinking about how she was another person for me to protect. Then it dawned on me.” He met Sloane’s gaze. “She wasn’t my responsibility. She’s Roman and Charlotte’s. But I still had this initial, instinctive need to protect her.”
Sloane smiled, her grip on his hand tightening. “That’s because you’re special.”
“It’s because I’m a controlling son of a bitch,” he countered, laughing at his self-imposed description. “And while holding that little baby, I realized why.”
Sloane resisted the urge to curl into him, to kiss him, to tell him the whys didn’t matter. Because they did. She’d pushed him away once before and now he was giving her what she needed to trust him, the reasons for his sudden change of mind. If he understood why he was ready for a one-eighty change in his future, then he’d never look back and regret it.
She leaned forward, wanting to hear more.
“I guess this need to be in control of the people I care about, their lives and their well-being, started when my father died. It was damn obsessive, but my mother was too grateful to care, and Rick and Roman were strong enough to find their own way despite me.” He shook his head, his laughter self-deprecating.
“No, Rick and Roman were strong enough to find their own way because of you,” Sloane countered.
“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that I developed that white-knight complex you mentioned because it gave me the illusion of being in control. The illusion of safety.”
He drew a deep breath, and Sloane waited, wanting him to feel no pressure, only support.
He leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “In my misguided mind, I figured if I controlled my family and was always there for them, I wouldn’t lose them . . .” He paused as his voice cracked. Then clearing his throat, he continued. “I wouldn’t lose them the way I lost my father.”
His admission struck Sloane in the heart. She’d only thought she understood this often silent, mostly enigmatic man, but she hadn’t known his deepest pain.
She did now and she regretted forcing him to dig so deep that he had to suffer. “I’m sorry. I pushed you away when I should have realized you u
nderstood yourself well enough not to offer more than you could give. But I was afraid too. I’d just been through a betrayal with Michael and Madeline and it affected me more than I’d been willing to admit to myself.” She shook her head. “But I shouldn’t have pushed you away in order to fight my own insecurities. I’m sorry.”
He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Don’t be sorry. In the end, you brought us back to each other.”
She shook her head. “Then why do I feel so selfish?”
“You’re not selfish. You’re honest and real. And obviously we both had more things to work out than we were aware of at the time.” He shrugged. “That just makes us honest and real.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Besides, you were right. I did feel guilty I wasn’t there when you were shot. But more because I could have lost you than because I wanted to be in control of things. I want you in my life, Sloane. Now and forever. I’ll never look back and wonder what if.”
“How can you be sure?” She bit down on her bottom lip, hating the fact that she had to ask.
Chase turned his head to the side. “Sweetheart, I wrote the article of a lifetime and it left me cold and empty inside because I didn’t have you.”
Sloane released the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. More than anything, those were the words she needed to hear. That she added to his life and didn’t take away from it. “I read the article and it was masterful, Chase. You did such a professional job, yet protected my family in a way no other reporter would have.”
A smile twitched at his lips. “I couldn’t exactly trash the family I want to marry into, now could I?”
Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Sloane came to her knees and threw herself into his arms, pushing him back down against the couch. She stared into his deep blue eyes and knew there was no place she’d rather be for the rest of her life than with this man whose love and caring ran so deep. “Say you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He laughed, shifting his position to accommodate her. He managed to maneuver her beneath him, so he straddled her hips. “I am one hundred percent sure I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Married with children?” she asked, certain she knew the answer. “Because when you talked about holding Lilly, all I could think about was you holding our baby in your arms.”
“Honey, there’s nothing I want more.”
Sloane exhaled hard, finally able to breathe. “I love you too, Chase.” She wrapped her good arm around his neck and pulled him toward her. “Now kiss me.”
“With pleasure,” he said, and sealed his lips against hers, this time knowing nothing would come between them. Not fear, not mistrust, and not the past.
He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, making love to her at the same time his lower body rode in insistent circles, pressing his groin hard against hers.
“Want to try making that baby now?” Sloane asked, breaking the kiss and breathing hard.
“Right here?” He reached down and unsnapped the button on her jeans. “Right now?”
“Yes. Oh yes.” Her hips jerked upward as she tried to help him, hindered by the use of only one hand.
Chase took over, undressing her, pausing to arouse and stimulate each and every inch of her luscious skin. He lowered the zipper and helped her wriggle off her pants and lace undies all at the same time. He started fondling her with his hands and followed with laps of his tongue and nips of his teeth. So that by the time he came down on top of her, bare skin against bare skin, her damp, wet body was more than ready for his heated flesh.
And he entered her, here and now, in a perfect attempt to create their future.
EPILOGUE
Raina wrapped her hands tighter around Eric’s waist and let him lead her around the patio. She was dancing at her own wedding. They’d decided to have a small, intimate family affair at Raina’s house.
By Yorkshire Falls’ standards, that meant a revolving door of more than one hundred people at any given time, pets included, passing through and giving good wishes. But what mattered most to Raina was family. Hers and Eric’s, gathered here together for the first time.
Roman stood by Charlotte, who held their baby in her arms. Oh, Lilly had captured Raina’s heart and she would break the hearts of many men in her lifetime. Raina chuckled at that thought, as only a grandmother could.
And then there was Rick and Kendall. Their family had begun with Hannah, Kendall’s sister, who was now charming the teenage boys and keeping them on their toes. Raina laughed. She and Hannah had developed the most wonderful relationship, as if they’d been grandmother and granddaughter all along. And Raina had a hunch Hannah would soon be joined by another child in the house. Considering the full waist of Kendall’s dress, Raina would guess that a little one wasn’t more than seven or so months away. But she knew better than to ask.
Rick wouldn’t answer personal questions. He was keeping his personal life private—something Raina finally not only understood, but also accepted. She was willing to wait for whenever Kendall got pregnant, no pushing from Raina. Even if her real heart scare did make grandchildren feel more urgent, it was up to her son to decide. But another baby, close in age to Lilly, would be wonderful. Another generation of Chandlers growing up in Yorkshire Falls, Raina thought proudly.
Ending with Chase and Sloane’s children? Raina glanced over at her oldest son. He’d never seemed happier. Even if he was yet another of her children who wasn’t divulging many details of his personal life, except for the fact that he and Sloane were going to be married in Washington, D.C., next month. Though Raina wanted to help, they refused to let her overdo. Sloane and Madeline Carlisle were handling the actual wedding planning, working around the senator’s busy schedule on the campaign trail. But they consulted Raina whenever possible, making her feel at home and welcome, and she was grateful. She had no doubt—babies would follow.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Eric said, tightening his hand around her waist. “Feeling okay?”
She smiled up at him, her good fortune overwhelming her. “I’m just at a loss for words.”
“Should I tell Chase to stop the presses?” he asked, laughing.
She shook her head. “Don’t tease me. I’m too afraid all these good things won’t last.”
He slowed their step, leaning his head closer. “Any reason why they shouldn’t?” He rested his cheek against hers and a warm fluttering rose in her stomach.
He made her feel safe and secure, and, she admitted, so did the setting around her. “No, no reason at all. I’ve got my children, their families, and you. What more could a woman ask for?”
He grinned. “Not one single solitary thing.”
She laughed because he was right. Raina had learned many things since she’d begun her charade, the most important being that life was what you made of it. And with the Chandler men, they’d make all things good and most things possible. Eric sweetened the deal.
Raina’s family had a lifetime of possibilities ahead of them, and she intended to enjoy each and every one.
About the Author
New York Times best-selling author Carly Phillips is an attorney who has tossed away legal briefs in favor of writing hot, sizzling romances. Her first single title contemporary romance, The Bachelor, captured a spot as the third pick of the “Reading with Ripa” book club on LIVE with Regis and Kelly. The announcement launched Carly into the number-one slot on both Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com within just a few hours and for a six-week stay on the New York Times list. The follow-up to The Bachelor, The Playboy, also hit the New York Times list its first week.
Carly currently lives in Purchase, New York, with her husband, two young daughters, and a frisky soft-coated Wheaton terrier who acts like their third child. When she’s not spending time with her family, Carly is busy writing and promoting (and playing on-line!). Carly loves to hear from her readers. You can write her at: P.O. Box 483, Purchase, NY 10577, or
e-mail her at: [email protected]. To discover more about this quickly rising star of romance, all the Chandler men and Carly’s upcoming books, visit Carly’s Web site at: www.carlyphillips.com.
special ebook Feature:
Insights and Excerpts
of
Carly Phillips
~
The Infinite Appeal of Small Towns
A Step in the Right Direction
The Bachelor—Excerpt
Prologue
Chapter One
The Playboy—Excerpt
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The Infinite Appeal of Small Towns
by Carly Phillips
Small towns have always held a special appeal for Americans. They form the very heart and soul of the country in everyday life and in fiction. Why? Probably because many of us live that small town life and even those who don’t recognize that at its core, small towns represent simplicity and escape from the pressures and hectic pace of big cities and everyday living. This appeal was underscored by the popularity of American illustrator Norman Rockwell (1894-1978), especially with his 322 covers for Saturday Evening Post. His paintings of everyday, usually small-town people almost always tell stories, often humorous ones. His use of careful observation and technical skill portray homey incidents, well–defined character, and a wealth of supporting detail. As an author, that is what I aspire to accomplish with the written word.
Most of my books deal with families but with the Chandler brothers and Yorkshire Falls, I undertook small towns at their best—the ideal of home and hearth, of being able to go back to where you started and begin again, even if you were born and bred in the city. Small towns represent a space where everyman can escape the pressures and grind of everyday life. They are a place where life proceeds at a slower pace and where the things we take for granted mean more–such as the glow of a fading sunset or the whispered conversation with a loved one on the proverbial porch. At its heart, small towns are a place where honesty shines through. Since practically everyone is supposed to know everyone else’s business in a small town, little remains undercovers and what does, runs deep.
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