“It was wonderful,” she murmured. She deliberately didn’t mention the whole Gil incident.
Grant smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You needed a good vacation.”
She stared after him as he hurried to the pharmacy section to unlock it and prepare for the few customers waiting with prescriptions in hand. A good vacation? Actually it had been a life-changing one, to say the least.
Sometime after the lunch break, Grant came up to her and touched her arm to capture her attention. She gave him a quick, blank smile.
“Hey, I was wondering what you’re up to this weekend.”
“I’ve nothing planned,” she replied. “Why?”
“I’m headed to the French Quarter to hear a local jazz band,” he said. “A friend of mine is playing. I thought maybe you’d like to come along.”
Caroline looked at him, taking a mental step back and seeing him through the eyes of a woman, and not a store manager or a co-worker. She discovered Grant Dardeau was a handsome man. Grey peppered his dark hair and his tanned face told of a life enjoyed outdoors. He had the typical twang of a Southern Louisiana boy, with the charm to go with it. She took a deep breath and pushed away the image of Wren trying to creep into the assessment, refusing to compare the two.
Wren was gone, out of her life. Logic told her that he was back in Paris and back to his life.
“I would like that,” she replied, ignoring the little voice that said it didn’t want to go on a date with Grant.
Wren. Wren. Wren.
The relentless mantra was annoying the hell out of her.
The rest of the week continued in a slight fog for Caroline. Grant would smile and flirt with her. All the while she constantly battled with the tiny voice in her head, the one who wanted her to use the business card she carried everywhere, the one that had Wren’s numbers on it. Her palms would itch to dial them and reconnect. She would reach up and touch the necklace, and her heart would stutter. But then reality would come rushing back, reminding her that forgetting Wren would be a little more difficult than she expected.
When Saturday arrived, she and Grant worked until closing. At five they shut the doors and he followed her to her apartment, waiting till she freshened up, and then they left in his truck. New Orleans lay an hour away to the south, and Caroline was surprised to find herself actually enjoying Grant’s company.
The French Quarter always swarmed with people, but more so during the summer months when tourists and college kids came to visit. Grant held her hand as they parked and then made their way up Bourbon Street to a place called The Red Room. Inside, the bar was like any other, except one wall behind the bar had been painted this bright red color that really clashed with everything else. A small stage lined one corner where three men played jazz, and Grant gave a little wave when he saw his friend, the trombone player.
They sat at a table near the stage and ordered drinks, which arrived quickly from the hustling waitress.
“So what exciting things did you do in New York City?” he asked.
She hesitated for a moment. “Well, I was almost stabbed by a crazy man.”
Uncertainty flashed over his face. “Are you kidding with me?”
“No,” she replied and pointed to her side. “I’ve got a scab where the tip went in.”
“Jesus! Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. The cops got him and he pled guilty.”
“Wow. That must have been awful.” He took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” she replied, smiling.
Caroline nursed her beer and relaxed, letting the moment wash over her. She studied Grant as he laughed and talked, and decided he would be the perfect boyfriend. Pretty soon, he had her by the hand, dancing to the jazzy strains, and she relaxed in his arms.
They left around midnight, driving the hour back to Baton Rouge. Both were pretty quiet and Caroline had her head resting on the back of her seat. She stared out the window, not exactly seeing the highway lights and dark woodland beyond. Her mind was full of Wren, the memories of their lovemaking and their last goodbye. The ache in her heart hurt so much sometimes it was hard to breathe.
“Almost there,” Grant said quietly, breaking into her thoughts.
She straightened as they turned onto her street. She lived at the end of her apartment complex, and so late at night everything was quiet.
“Thanks, Grant,” she said and looked over at him. She took a deep breath and pushed thoughts of Wren firmly down. “I had a great time.”
“So did I,” he answered.
He came around the cab and opened her door, helping her down. They stood facing each other, and then he leaned down and kissed her. Softly at first, a mere brush of his lips against hers. But then a second later he pressed harder and his tongue came out to brush against the seam. And before she could think twice, she forced her own mouth to open. He immediately deepened the kiss.
Caroline had to admit, the kiss wasn’t a bad kiss. In fact, it was very pleasant. Though no fire licked her skin and no tingles danced up her spine, she had to admit that if she hadn’t met Wren Calder, she would have been happy with how Grant Dardeau made her feel, warm and safe.
He pulled back and they stood in the moonlight staring at each other. Caroline couldn’t help but compare this man to Wren, though she knew that wasn’t fair. She knew that no man would ever compare to Wren, but she also knew that time of her life was over. He had done his part for her and helped her move on.
And it was time to move on.
She took a deep breath. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would,” he answered.
She took his hand and led him into her apartment.
****
Grant took her gently into his arms, sliding his hands up her shoulders to curve around her back. His body was hard, muscled. He stood about a foot over her so he had to lean down as he possessed her mouth again. She brought him in closer to her body. Not because she really wanted to, but because she wanted to force herself to respond. While pleasant, Grant’s passion didn’t jump start her heart. No electricity zinged across her skin. Her stomach didn’t bottom out with excitement.
Not like when Wren held her.
For a moment, Caroline let her mind wander. She imagined Wren holding her. Taking her. Loving her. It became easy to replace Grant with Wren’s image, the seeking hands transforming into longer fingers, a bigger palm. It would be easy to be swept away if she just let her imagination do all the work. She might even be able to achieve orgasm based off a memory. Fantasy was beautiful, but not when using someone to hide love and longing.
Caroline bent her head, tears leaking from under her lashes. Her arms dropped away from Grant’s body. It took him only a moment to recognize the change in her.
“Caroline?”
She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Grant took his hands from her breasts and replaced them on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Really. Please, don’t cry.”
“I can’t do this. I want to, but my mind is screaming not yet.”
“Your ex-husband?”
She shook her head. “No, the divorce was finalized last week. I actually met someone in New York. I just … can’t forget him.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
Grant shook his head. “Hey, don’t be sorry.”
“I think I need just a little time to get over all of it.”
“Sounds like you had an exciting couple of days.”
Caroline gave a rueful little laugh. “I guess you could say that. Strangely enough, it was almost being stabbed that made me realize how short life is. I would really like to have a relationship again, but…”
“I get it,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
He winked and gave her an easy, lighthearted grin.
She let out a deep breath, the stress flowing from her shoulders causing them to droo
p a bit.
“Thank you, Grant.”
He stepped back and started buttoning up the two buttons she had managed to undo. She watched him, wishing with every fiber in her being that she found him as attractive as Wren. But she didn’t. After he finished, he moved toward the door.
“Oh,” he said at the threshold, turning to face her. “I’m having a birthday celebration next weekend at The Red Room in the French Quarter. I’d like for you to come.”
“I don’t know, Grant.”
“As just a friend,” he quickly explained. “I think you could use some friends, Caroline.”
“All right,” she agreed. “I’d like that.”
“See you at work.”
“Yeah, see you there.”
He gave her a wave and left, closing the door softly behind him.
Caroline rose, and locked it, before lying down on the couch to cry herself to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
“What’cha up to this weekend?” Aldy asked, the smacking of her lips coming through loud and clear on the phone.
Caroline had spent the past ten minutes of their phone call pulling the receiver away from her ear. “Will you stop eating? Or at least eat quietly.”
“Oh, sorry.” After some rustling, Aldy’s voice came in clear. “I put the chips away. Better?”
“Much. My eardrum isn’t vibrating harshly anymore with the sound of your mastication.”
“Masticate on this.” Aldy’s voice dripped with snark through the phone line.
“Bite me.”
“You wish.”
They laughed. Caroline missed her friend a lot. She decided she was going to have to fly out and see her soon.
“So,” Aldy said. “Again I ask, whatcha up to this weekend?”
“Going to celebrate Grant’s birthday in NOLA.”
“Grant––your pharmacist?”
“Yes. Remember? I went on a date with him last weekend.”
“Ah … yeah. So, just the two of you?”
“Nah, it’s a party at a place called The Red Room. It’s a bluesy-jazzy bar in the French Quarter.”
“Cool. So have you gotten over Wren?”
Caroline hesitated. She would have given anything to be able to say ‘yes’. But she couldn’t lie, especially to Aldy.
“No,” she said. “I have to figure out how to get over Wren before I jump back into dating.”
“All right,” Aldy said. “I’m here if you need me.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“We should go on vacation together again. Maybe we can find a hurricane in the Caribbean to put the knife incident to shame.”
“I was all in favor of a vacation together until you mentioned the knife.”
“Sorry. Too soon?”
“Yep.”
Still love me?”
“For now.”
****
Caroline watched the people around her dancing, laughing, and having a great time as they celebrated Grant’s birthday. She smiled when she needed to, talked and toasted when someone came over to say hi. But all the while her heart was heavy amongst the crowd.
She glanced down at her watch. Half past midnight. She wondered if now would be an acceptable time to give her regards and head home. She had long ago passed the time when this had lost its fun appeal. She simply wanted to go home and go to bed.
Stupid Murphy’s Law … she’d run from any type of emotional setting for so long that now when she was open to falling in love again, her heart was already taken. She wondered how the hell she could get over this damn stupid heartache.
Caroline made her way over to the dancing Grant and gave him a hug and kiss good-bye. He glanced at her with surprised eyes but let her go, being too wrapped up in his partying.
As she made her way to the entrance, a tingling settled over her skin. All her senses came alive, as if she wiped the fog from her brain. Her heart started to beat heavily in her chest and she looked around to find the source.
Wren stood in the doorway, staring at her, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, looking more fantastic than he had in a suit.
Caroline blinked, but he didn’t vanish. She walked up to him on shaky legs. Her heart pounded in her chest, making her a little light headed. Her lips parted in surprise. Wren reached out and wrapped one large hand around her neck to pull her into his body. His mouth crashed down onto hers with desperation, as if he were a man dying of thirst who just discovered an oasis. Everything faded around her: the music, the lights, the people … they all just disappeared under the hot pressure of his kiss.
When he finally lifted his head, the world slowly came back into focus. She opened her languid eyes and stared at him.
“What are you doing here?” She breathed, eyes wide. “How did you know where to find me?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug, looking both uncomfortable and confident at the same time. “I got an email from Aldrin Crenshaw letting me know your weekend plans along with a detailed map from the airport to The Red Room. And since I can’t seem to get a blonde-haired pixie out of my head I thought I’d visit the Big Easy.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but too much emotion hung between them. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
He took her hand in his and led her outside, onto Bourbon Street, where the music from all the bars blended together in a cacophony of sound. People bustled about on the narrow streets as the delicious smells of baked pastry and spicy gumbo floated by.
But Wren Calder walked like a man on a mission. He weaved them in and out of the tourists and local bar hoppers, past the voodoo shops and palm readers, until they reached Jackson Square. The night air was thick, as usual for that time of year, and the smell from the white roses surrounding the St. Louis Cathedral tickled Caroline’s nose.
Caroline yanked her hand from his. “Stop!”
And he did. His shoulders tensed as he turned to face her.
“Why are you here, Wren?”
He didn’t answer her at first, and the busy world around them gradually came to a halt, as if they were encased in a bubble that excluded the outside world. Caroline’s heart started to beat so wildly she thought it would explode as she waited for his answer.
“When I got that email from Aldrin,” he said, “I felt sucker-punched. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself on a plane back to the States.”
Her hands curled into fists. She wanted to badly to run and throw them around him, to hug him and never let him go. But she clamped down on her impulse.
“I hadn’t been very truthful to you about Leslie,” he continued, surprising her in the change of topic. “She had been there to meet me. I always call her up when I’m in New York––the sex is great, but it’s just sex.”
She flinched at that mental picture.
“But this time, when I looked at her, I felt nothing. For the first time there wasn’t sadness or hurt feelings, no what-if thoughts. All I had in my head was you, Caroline.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“I thought when the weekend was over I would forget you,” he continued. “But I haven’t been able to, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want you having what we shared with anyone else but me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve also come to the conclusion I don’t want to be with anyone else,” she replied. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”
His lips twisted in a grimace. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, either,” she admitted. “The scar I had on my finger reflected the one I had on my heart. And I didn’t want to put myself through any heartbreak again. But you broke through all my walls. You cracked my armor. You woke me up. And when Gil had my life in his hands, I finally realized just how much I wanted to find love again.”
He reached out and took one of her clenched fists, bringing it up and rubbing it between his palms. “You gave me your trust in New York, so I’m here to give you mine. And
my heart, if you want it.”
“You mean that?”
Wren put his hands on her hips and pulled her body snug into his before wrapping them around her. He laid his cheek on top of her head. “I want to hold you like this always. Forever.”
She thought those were the best words she’d ever heard. “Let’s start with going back to my place and making love all night long.”
“How far is your place?”
“An hour.”
“Too long. I have a room booked at the hotel on Canal Street.”
She leaned back far enough to give him a raised eyebrow look. “A hotel? Is this our theme?”
“I kinda like this theme. We could explore the world, one hotel at a time.”
Caroline’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Ask me your question again.”
“Who is Caroline?”
“I am love––and I am in love.”
The End
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Other Books by Beth D. Carter:
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A Man After Midnight Page 9
