Home Sweet Love

by Ava Miles

  Being the genius inventor he was, Evan could alter anything technological to suit his needs. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit around and stare at the wall? I can’t live like this, Evan.”

  “You’re going to have to find a way,” Evan said, sighing deeply. “Otherwise, you’ll delay the body’s natural healing process or make things worse.”

  Chase didn’t buy that. He’d always beaten the odds, and nothing and no one was going to keep him from doing what he did best.

  Not even a stupid concussion.

  Chapter 5

  “Gads, I’ve had a horrible day,” Moira said the moment she opened the door to Caroline.

  Her sister stepped inside and wrapped her in a strong hug. “I heard all about it from Andy when I popped in to see our nephew. And here we thought I’d be the one with all the news. I’m so sorry about Chase. Sounds like he did a number on himself.”

  That was one way of putting it. He’d shown her so many facets of himself today. Before they’d hit the slopes, they’d had their first showdown over inviting Quid-Atch’s competitors to the fundraiser. Then, after the accident, he’d gritted his teeth through the pain instead of crying out. The strength of will that must have required… At the hospital, he’d immediately turned surly and stubborn, insisting that he could recover faster than anyone in the history of head injuries. Goodness, that man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Could he not see that he needed to heal?

  But he’d also been vulnerable, and that had shaken her most of all. Her heart still pinched at the memory of how he’d thanked her for not leaving him alone. That couldn’t have been easy for him.

  “Evan made me go home,” she told her sister as they separated. Icy air was wafting in from outside, so she shut the door with a shiver.

  “You can still go back to the hospital if you want,” Caroline said, shaking the snow off her coat and hanging it up in the closet. “I’ll come with you if you’d like—once I warm up.”

  “Evan said he’d stay with Chase until it was lights out.” Besides, her relationship with Chase was different. They were work associates who were becoming friends. And then there was the whole strange smoldering thing between them. She still didn’t know what the hell to do about that.

  “Okay, then we really need to get you some wine and Channing Tatum. Maybe we’ll just fast-forward to the sexy parts tonight.”

  “I’ve already started on the wine,” she said. “Which is dangerous since we both know I can’t hold my liquor.”

  “I can’t either, so you’re in good company. Are we changing into PJs?”

  Moira looked down at her clothes. She still had on the ones she’d worn under her ski outfit. “Yes. I probably have hospital cooties on these clothes.”

  Her sister narrowed her eyes. “Eww. Not the cooties!” She said it the way their nephew did. “All right, let’s change, and then you can tell me more about Chase.”

  “No, I need a break from my day. I want to hear all about your lunch with Uncle Arthur.”

  “Righto,” Caroline said. “You aren’t going to believe it.”

  They headed down Moira’s hallway to the back of the A-frame house where her three bedrooms lay. Her hallway. Gosh, she loved saying that. Before, she’d only rented, but owning a home had allowed her to fully express herself. She’d painted the hallway a vibrant orange because…why the heck not? It had brightened up the dark space and brought out the orangey tones in her hardwood floors.

  Moira slipped into the first bedroom.

  “Hey!” her sister called out from farther down the hall. “You hung the painting I bought you in my room away from home. You’re the best.”

  Caroline sometimes stayed with their mom, but now that Moira lived in town, she usually slept here on her overnight visits, enough to warrant her own dedicated guest room. She’d earned it after helping Moira decorate the newly purchased house. Caroline had a great eye for decorating and had helped her pick paint colors that would liven up her space with her existing furniture while adding cost-effective touches from some of the more popular discount stores like new curtains, knee-high vases, and fluffy pillows. Lots of pillows.

  When she finished changing, Moira padded out to the open living room/kitchen area and found Caroline pouring herself a glass of wine.

  “Did you order pizza yet?” her sister asked.

  “Nope. What are you in the mood for?”

  “Honestly, Brian stuffed me to the gills at Brasserie Dare, so I’m not super hungry. You pick the toppings.”

  It only required her a minute to consider her choices. “I want meat lovers.”

  “You always do,” Caroline said, laughing. “I’ll order a salad so I feel good about myself in the morning.”

  That was so Caroline. Her sister could be such a moron when it came to body image.

  “I don’t know why you say things like that,” Moira said. “You look fabulous. If I were a man and not your sister, I’d be so into you.”

  “That’s just gross.”

  “Okay, I’m ordering,” Moira said, grabbing her cell phone. “Then you can tell me about our dear uncle.”

  Once she’d put in the order—thankfully, there wasn’t a long wait for the pizza—she grabbed her glass of wine and hooked her arm through her sister’s. “Grab your wine. I’ll make a fire in my new fireplace while you fill me in on your lunch.”

  Moments later, she was hunkered down in front of the hearth, lining balled-up newspapers under the grate. Man, it was nice to have a freaking fireplace. She hadn’t been lying to Chase earlier—when it came to moving back to Dare Valley, she had zero regrets.

  “So?” she said.

  “So, Uncle Arthur wants me to help one of Emmits Merriam’s great-great grandkids with some art,” Caroline told her from the couch. “You aren’t going to believe who.”

  “Tell me.”

  She snorted. “J.T., the infamous mud slinger.”

  Laughing, Moira said, “You’re kidding! Whatever happened to him? Is he living a life of crime?” She arranged some sticks on the grate.

  “No, he’s fairly respectable, it sounds like, and this art thing…I’m not supposed to technically tell anyone, but please…Uncle Arthur knows how family goes. Even Brian alluded to some ‘secret’ when he came out to take our order.”

  Moira grabbed a couple of logs from the wood pile, plopped them down with a thud, and then reached for the matches. “We Hales wrote the book on family intrigue. I didn’t think the Merriams had ties here beyond the university. I remember playing with them in the summers when we were kids, but they suddenly stopped coming. Never knew why.”

  “Me either, but I was little,” Caroline said, lifting up the navy cashmere blanket she’d wrapped herself in so that Moira could join her under it. “From what I could learn online, J.T. and his siblings lived in California until they graduated from college. Most of them run some part of the Merriam conglomerate.”

  “Oil, right?” Moira said.

  “Yeah, and they still have those operations, but Emmits’ descendants branched out. Big time. We’re talking technology, skincare, pharmaceuticals, and—oddly—organic products and super foods. They even patented a special organic strawberry that’s widely sold in grocery stores. And that’s the short list.”

  “I guess they’re still rich then.” Moira laughed. She wondered if Chase or Evan knew the Merriam family. Sounded like they might run in the same high-powered executive circle.

  “How did Uncle Arthur get reconnected to them?” she asked, reaching onto the coffee table for her glass of wine. The red wine she’d selected tasted of nice, dark fruit and a healthy balance of spice and leather. On a cold night, it was heaven.

  “It sounded like he’s been in touch all along,” Caroline said, fitting her legs under her. “You know Uncle Arthur. The way he talked about Emmits being his mentor…he practically had tears in his eyes.”

  Uncle Arthur could be pretty gruff, but he had a soft heart. “So this art…tel
l me more.”

  “J.T. wants to bring the family art collection to Dare Valley. Uncle Arthur thought I was a good resource since I know the community.”

  “Hmm,” Moira said, wondering what their uncle was plotting. “Where does J.T. live now?”

  “Rome.” Caroline leveled a glance at her. “And I found out something else from my Internet sleuthing. He’s no longer a scrawny boy. Never have I seen a finer dressed man. He’s swoon worthy now.” She heaved an audible sigh.

  “Is he really? The mud slinger? Where’s your phone? I want to see.”

  Caroline leaped off the couch and brought it back to Moira. After tapping on it for a few seconds, she handed it over. “Here he is. All in all, pretty impressive. He has an MBA from Stanford, but he’s currently running the Merriam oil and gas operations in Africa and the Middle East.”

  Moira grabbed her phone and gasped. “That’s him? You weren’t kidding. My God, he’s like a walking Gucci commercial with those green eyes and pouty lips.”

  “I thought more Fendi,” Caroline said, fanning herself dramatically. “From my little looksee earlier, he seems to be well regarded. There was even a picture of him with the president.”

  “Okay, I’m a little impressed,” she said, “but aren’t they letting anyone into the White House these days? I think I heard Uncle Arthur say that when the president was photographed with that hideous pop star with the pink hair.”

  Caroline laughed. “I told Uncle Arthur to have J.T. call me. I figured why not talk to him? Maybe I’ll get a long overdue apology.”

  “Why not, indeed!” Moira said. “Cripes, Caroline, if the art stuff isn’t interesting at least he’ll be pretty to look at. Did it say what J.T. stands for? I can’t remember.”

  “Julian Thomas.”

  “No wonder they called him J.T. You’ll have to tell me what he says when he calls you.”

  “Of course!” Caroline said with a smirk. “You know I’m going to dial you the minute I get off. Now, are you going to stop deflecting and talk about your day?”

  She mulled it over while staring into the fire. “It was awful. Chase scared the shit out of me. I didn’t tell him or Evan, but when I saw him crash through that fence and go down the drop—it was fifty feet at least—I…couldn’t move at first. I froze up. He looked lifeless. But then I pushed through it and went to him.”

  Caroline took a sip of her wine. “Andy said the hotel medics were shocked you’d skied after him. Sounds like it was pretty dangerous.”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t easy, but I’m a good skier. I had to make sure he was all right, Caroline.” Suddenly her throat was thick, and she found herself getting emotional. The image of him lying there in the snow had resurfaced in her mind, and she couldn’t shake it.

  “Hey!” her sister said, rubbing her arm. “He’s going to be all right, Moira. You did a good job.”

  “Shit, I don’t even know why I’m blubbering.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and tried to pull it together.

  “You know why,” Caroline said softly. “I’ve seen the look on your face when you talk about him.”

  “So, I’m attracted to him. It’s complicated with work.”

  “I agree,” her sister said, setting her wine aside. “But it’s not just attraction. You like Chase. And you admire him. That’s a powerful combination.”

  She blew out a long breath. “I know it. I think he feels something too, but he’s as aware of the work thing as I am. I…can’t do anything about it.”

  “Right,” Caroline said. “You’re a new employee, so you don’t want to mess that up. While he isn’t technically your boss, it sounds like he and Evan are a package deal.”

  “Indeed,” Moira said. “When he was lying in the snow, I put his head on my thigh so his face wouldn’t get cold. After I checked to make sure he could move it, of course. And I felt…”

  Her sister waited as she formed the words.

  “I felt like he was…I don’t know…special to me. I liked being there for him when he was hurt. It was so weird.”

  “And you like being with him when he’s well,” Caroline finished. “Sounds like you’ve fallen for him. Traumatic moments like the one you had today can sometimes crystalize our feelings.”

  Moira grabbed her wine. “I don’t want my feelings crystalized like this. Caroline, when he didn’t answer me when I called his name, I was afraid he’d…”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence. She hadn’t even let herself consciously think about it while she was out there with him in the snow, but the fear had been there, looming in the back of her mind. The possibility that the fall had broken his neck. That the behemoth that was Chase Parker was just…gone.

  “But he didn’t die, and he’s going to get better.” Caroline shifted to face her. “Repeat after me, Moira Hale. Chase Parker is going to be fine, and I’ll be open to my feelings for him.”

  She shot her sister a look. “I notice how you snuck that last part in there. That can’t happen, Caroline.”

  “Yes, it can. Chase can’t work for the next few weeks, and he’s here full-time with practically no friends. This is the perfect time for you to get to know him on a personal level and see if it’s worth the risk of the potential business complications.”

  Maybe Caroline was right. The attraction she had for him hadn’t gone away, it had only gotten stronger. Maybe she owed it to herself to see if there was anything to it.

  “We’ll see. He was a bear today, arguing with Evan and Andy about taking a car all the way back to D.C. Plus, he’s laid up with a broken leg and arm. How does a man make a move on a woman under those conditions?”

  Caroline bit her lip. “From what you’ve told me about Chase, he doesn’t let anything stand in the way of getting what he wants.”

  But he didn’t steamroll over anyone normally. He listened. He negotiated. He compromised. It was part of what she liked about him. “We’ll see. I have to help Evan find him a place to live. I promised I’d look out for him when Evan goes to his house in Virginia to pack up some of his stuff.”

  “That sounds like a good opportunity,” Caroline said. “Now, how about we stop discussing complications with men and watch Magic Mike. You can’t get any less complicated than a movie about male strippers. Plus, it will get your mind off Chase for the moment.”

  Moira wasn’t so sure about that.

  Chapter 6

  Hospitals sucked.

  There were no two ways about it, to Chase’s mind.

  Sure, he had never stayed in one before. Honestly, he’d never even visited anyone in a hospital. But one day of incarceration in Dare Valley General was enough for him to blaspheme hospitals everywhere with confidence.

  How did anyone get well in a place like this? Maybe it would be different if he had a VIP suite or something. As it was, he was grateful for his private room. He’d been shocked to hear some patients had to room with strangers. Strangers! What kind of a wellness plan was that? Every hospital administrator in the United States should be embarrassed.

  Then there was the crying and the moaning he could hear from a patient down the hall. When he’d asked a nurse about it, she’d told him the man was badly injured. No kidding. It was horrible to listen to someone’s suffering and not be able to do anything about it. Shutting the door hadn’t helped.

  The view out of his window was the icing on the cake. He was sure he could still see a faint trail of black smoke from the house that had caught fire the day before.

  God, he wanted out of this place.

  According to Dr. Andy, he needed another night of observation—just to be sure his head wasn’t going to fall off or something.

  His nurse, a middle-aged woman named Nancy, entered after a brief knock. She had on blue scrubs and her dishwater blond hair was pulled back in a rubber band. “Hello, Chase. Time to take your pill.”

  The pain meds made him groggy, and they didn’t take away the pain completely. He could still feel it, as if pressing fro
m another place inside him.

  He downed the pill with the water in the plastic cup she handed him. But his gaze was drawn to the window again. “Nancy,” he said. “There was a house that caught fire yesterday on the bench. Just over there.”

  When he pointed in that direction, she nodded her head. “Yes, it was terrible.”

  “Do you know who the family is? I’d like to help them.”

  She took his plastic cup back and looked at him. Really looked at him. “I know who you are,” she said, surprising him. “I’m sure Roger and Cora—their last name is Drepe—would be grateful to you. Their little boy is with us, and I heard they’re really worried about the medical bills.”

  His chest tightened. “He was hurt?” God. His mother had told them over and over again after the fire that they were so lucky none of them had been injured.

  “Yes,” she said sadly. “He was taking a nap upstairs. I can’t imagine what Cora is going through. He’s their only child so far, just four years old. What would make you want to help them? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I have a sense of what they’re going through,” Chase said. “But it’s important to me that you keep this quiet.”

  A smile flickered over her lips, and suddenly she looked less rushed. “Of course. Would you like to meet them? They’re on this floor.”

  Part of him cringed. Could he really face these people when their pain was so raw? Did he even want to?

  “I’m sure it would mean the world to them,” Nancy added. “I can wheel you down there.”

  She was practically beaming. He almost said no, but then he thought of the boy. He’d remembered how desperately he’d needed reassurance after the fire had destroyed his world. “Only briefly.”

  After helping him into a wheelchair—a horrible experience—Nancy took him down the hallway. He passed other rooms, hearing the cries of pain from the one man, patients’ conversations with visitors, and the chattering of the medical personnel. When they arrived at Room 222, his insides seemed to roll up in his gut at the faint smell of smoke hovering in the air. A woman was sitting beside the hospital bed, gripping the hand of the little brown-headed boy lying there with an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. Pain flashed through Chase’s chest.