by Weiss, Sonya
If he became romantically involved with Amelia and then something went wrong to cause the loss of her friendship, the one thing he couldn’t buy, the one thing he treasured most…
No, he couldn’t risk that happening. She’d always been his safe place to turn when the world knocked him down. With her, he wasn’t Chad Walker, millionaire businessman. He was simply the boy she’d grown up with. If he fell in love with her and she broke his heart, he might never find all the pieces.
Amelia pulled away, rubbing the skin where his hand had been. Her eyes held a touch of anger. “Forget it, Chad. We won’t get married. It was just a foolish what-if moment. I wasn’t serious.”
With those words, Amelia slammed from the car.
Chad shoved the door open and followed her.
Halfway to the wood shelter housing the rest stop concessions, Chad reached Amelia’s side. “Let me finish what I started to say.”
He matched his stride to hers and stopped in front of the soda machine. He took the change she offered and automatically selected a root beer, passing it to her when it dropped from the machine.
He slid more coins in and retrieved a Pepsi for himself.
She wagged the brown can back and forth. “See? This proves my hypothetical point about you not marrying Claire.”
“A can of root beer proves your logic?” She stayed silent.
Chad didn’t know what had gotten into Amelia lately. Usually, whenever she visited their hometown, they’d play a few rounds of basketball, catch a few sports games, laugh, talk, and enjoy each other’s company. They were buds.
Since her arrival this time and learning about his plan to marry Claire, she’d acted nervous and edgy. Bit snappish too. Downright grouchy, come to think of it.
And this whole kidnapping plot was outlandish, even for Amelia.
Maybe she’d been working too hard. Or was exhausted. Other than her sporadic visits home, this was Amelia’s first extended vacation in three years. As her friend, he should see to it she took the time to relax. Maybe a little one-on-one time together would get her back to her old self.
Maybe he could feel like his old self again, too, before he had to return to his wedding arrangement with Claire.
He smiled and nudged Amelia’s arm. “Come on. I agreed to tag along on this adventure and here we are stuck at a rest stop. Let’s go ahead to your destination. We’ll stay up all night talking like old times. What do you say? Does that sound like a plan?”
Chad put air quotations around the word “plan” and Amelia gave a reluctant smile.
Then her smile slowly dissipated. “What about Claire?”
“I need to call her. No matter how much you dislike her, I can’t just ditch the ceremony without any kind of explanation. Hopefully she’ll understand the mix-up and we can try again tomorrow. After all, it’s not like she’s marrying me for love.”
For a long few seconds she didn’t answer, then finally said, “Okay. We’re going to the cabin in the mountains my grandfather just bought. According to Google Maps, it’s a few hours away. If you’re so determined to call Claire, you should go ahead and do it. You can from the limo. I promise I won’t disconnect the call this time.”
She turned away from him, finished off the soda, and tossed the empty can into the trash and walked purposefully away. He caught up with her and slung an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to his side. He looked down at her and her lips parted, curving into the beautiful smile she’d always had.
Chad forced himself not to dwell on Amelia’s lips—lips he knew were glazed with a berry-scented gloss. Her sister Abby put some in her Christmas stocking every year.
Berry-scented, kissable lips. Kissable? What the hell?
Pull it together.
He put some space between them and crumpled his can with one hand, tossing it toward the trash can. It sailed smoothly in. “Nothing but net. So what do you say, Amelia? Shall we continue on? We’ve got nothing but open road and time right now.”
“Now that sounds like a plan.”
…
Almost five hours later, Amelia saw Chad rub his eyes and squint through the rain-splattered windshield. The weather had been sunny and hot in Sweet Creek, but in the mountains, they’d faced a torrential rainstorm, slowing their progress. The headlights barely cut a path through the thick darkness. Everywhere they looked, they saw nothing but trees and gravel road with muddy ruts.
It was almost like driving through a waterfall.
Speaking of which, Amelia was sure Chad had dealt with a waterfall of screeching from Claire when he’d called her earlier.
She hadn’t heard the conversation—she’d waited outside at the rest stop while he placed the call—but according to Chad, he’d told Claire there was an emergency, and missing the wedding was unavoidable. Although Amelia knew more had been said given the occasional boom of his voice, she didn’t ask for more detail.
He was with Amelia, after all. Which meant he was not getting married to the Mean Queen. At least for the time being.
The car dropped into a deep rut and Chad cursed under his breath. The limo wasn’t made for this kind of terrain.
Outside, the storm continued to rage and fat raindrops pounded on the roof with a roaring fury. “You call this a little way up the road? We’re now well over the time you said it’d take to get here.” He had raised his voice slightly to be heard above the fierceness of the storm. He grimaced while Amelia eased the car cautiously forward around another line of ruts and parked the limousine at the top of the steep, winding dirt road.
With the engine off, the storm’s roar was even louder.
Chad reached for the tuxedo jacket and thrust his arms into it, then shoved open the car door, stepping out into the dark. His only shelter was the large oak tree she’d parked by.
“I can’t help it if I got lost and went the wrong direction. All the roads became identical once we left the interstate, and that deer jumping out at me didn’t help either. Not to mention the thunderstorm.”
Her hand on the small of her back, Amelia grabbed her purse and climbed from the car with a barely suppressed groan at the stiffness, and quickly assessed the cabin through the pouring rain.
“Romantic Tennessee Hideaway,” Grandpa had called it when he’d told her about it. “Shack” would be closer to the truth. Obviously the seller had exaggerated the cabin, but her grandfather had still fallen in love with its rustic charm.
And it didn’t have a phone. Which was one of the main reasons she’d chosen it.
No phone meant no phone calls. Chad was all hers for the whole night.
She was determined to make him see how bad marrying Claire would be for him.
“I hope there’s food,” Chad said over his shoulder as he dashed up the steps, taking them two at a time. On the small wooden porch, he stomped his feet, kicking the mud off his expensive dress shoes. “I didn’t get a chance to eat this morning and I’m starving.”
Amelia rushed around the front bumper of the car to join him. She wiped the muck from her tennis shoes onto the faded sunflowers on the welcome mat.
Unable to stop her teeth from chattering, she stammered, “Mrs. Foster, the caretaker, said she’d g-g-get here by this morning and stock the pantry for me.” She wiped wet strands of hair away from her eyes and fished the key from her purse.
Chad removed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over Amelia’s shoulders. “Here. This is drier than your shirt.”
“I didn’t realize the temperature at night dropped so much here in the mountains this time of year.”
“It’s May, Ame. The temperature can drop fifteen to twenty degrees depending how far you go into the region.” He tucked the jacket around her and rubbed his hands up and down the sides of her arms briskly. “You said stock the pantry. Just how long did you plan to keep me here?” he asked, impatient as he grabbed the key from her shaking fingers.
He inserted the key into the lock and pushed hard. The sun-faded wood doo
r swung open with a loud, squeaking protest.
Stale air whooshed free to greet them and dust particles swirled in the air.
Amelia sneezed.
“Well, it’s not the Hilton, but at least we’ll be warm and dry.” Chad fumbled along the wall for the light switch.
One bulb from a low-hanging light dimly illuminated the center of the room, keeping the rest of it in shadow.
Amelia forced a cheerful expression to hide her dismay at the small space offered by the one-room cabin and headed straight toward the fireplace. “At least there’s plenty of wood stacked out by the door. Look on the bright side, you loved camping, remember?”
“I haven’t gone camping since I was a kid. I’m not a Boy Scout anymore, Amelia. In case you haven’t noticed,” he muttered.
“It’s just for one night,” she said more to reassure herself than him as she hurried to kneel on the gray stone hearth.
She laid a small pile of kindling in the fireplace and felt along the mantel for matches. As soon as the fire roared to life, she sent Chad a triumphant grin. “I haven’t forgotten my camping skills.”
Brushing her hands together, she stood and looked around at the furnishings. Definitely not up to the opulence Chad enjoyed in his life, but it was nice in a rustic sort of way.
A plain wooden table with two ladder-back chairs—one paint-splattered—sat tucked in a corner near a window. A fat blue bowl of wildflowers with drooping blossoms took up space in the middle of the table. At the window beyond the table, faded red gingham curtains arched with every puff of wind, bringing some of the rain inside.
Amelia hurried over and closed the window, latching it once she had it down, wondering if she’d done the right thing by coming here. She shook off the doubt. She was saving Chad. Of course she’d done the right thing.
A colorful patchwork quilt topped the iron bed. It would be a cozy, romantic hideaway for a couple, which they weren’t and never would be.
As Chad had said, they weren’t kids anymore, and crushes and wishes of first kisses were their history, not their future.
He interrupted her musings when he called her name.
Holding up two cans of tomato soup, he waved them back and forth. “I found something that’ll hit the spot. Just what we need on a night like tonight. I’ll put this on. You see if you can dig up anything else we might be able to add to our feast, and then we can get out of these wet clothes.” He set the cans on the chipped counter and rifled through drawers in search of an opener.
Not finding one, he moved to the pantry.
“The pantry has a few other things in here so at least we won’t starve tonight. Found a can opener too. And, hey, I found marshmallows!” Chad held the bag aloft and grinned.
His grin reminded her of the camping trip they’d taken with her grandfather and his when she’d turned twelve. She and Chad had engaged in a marshmallow fight, then later that night sat snuggled together beneath a blanket while his grandfather told scary tales.
Thunder growled a warning, low and throaty in the distance.
Chad frowned. “Looks like we got here in the nick of time. Storm might be getting worse.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she teased.
Chad quirked his eyebrows. “Ah, but my pretty, who’ll protect you from me?”
Amelia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Right now, when it comes to virtue I’d be willing to bet I’m the safest woman on the planet.”
Chad emptied the soup into a pot and turned on the burner. “Yep. Safe as the wares of a snowball salesman in Alaska.”
“In other words, who would want me?” Amelia said, meaning to sound playful, but the tone didn’t come out right. She sounded as if she felt sorry for herself, and she hated that because she didn’t.
Other than this latest situation with Chad, she was deliriously happy with her life. No ties, no commitments, she could come and go as she pleased, just the way she liked it.
Chad tossed the empty soup cans into the trash and moved from the stove to close the distance between them. “You do know how beautiful, how amazing you are, don’t you?”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.” This time she nailed the lightness she’d been going for a moment ago.
“Of course I’m your friend, so I know better than anyone how awesome you are. But seriously…” He lightly squeezed her hands. “Any guy would want to be with you.”
“Of course.” She fluttered her eyelashes, using humor to once again keep the emotions at bay. “I’ve got men in every port fighting one another for my hand. So step aside, sir, lest you be trampled by the rushing horde.”
“That I would believe.”
Silence stretched between them and the moment grew more intense. Amelia swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze away from his. Her brain activity scrambled. She couldn’t string together a complete thought.
The way he was watching her…
After all these years was he going to kiss her? Surely not. This was wrong.
“Amelia…” His voice took on a husky quality and the friendly light in his eyes darkened, changing to confusion.
She lifted her hands to his arms, reveling in the feel of his biceps. Here was strength she knew she could trust. She should push away. She should. But curiosity had always been her undoing.
His hands went to her waist, urging her closer.
“Amelia, I…”
His head slowly lowered.
The room disappeared from view. There was only Chad and the sound of soup boiling over.
Boiling soup?
Amelia blinked.
Suddenly Chad released her and stepped back to turn and grab the pan from the burner. He set it in the sink and waved a dish towel around to dispel the odor. His laughter sounded strained. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”
For a split second, Amelia thought he was referring to the almost-kiss, then realized he was talking about the soup.
She was relieved.
She didn’t want anything more than friendship from Chad. That and she wanted him to be happy. She wanted his heart to be safe, and that wouldn’t happen if he followed his plan.
Because she didn’t care what Chad said about his agreement with Claire. Amelia didn’t believe that the Queen of Mean was going to walk away in six months with a settlement when she could stay with Chad and the full Walker family fortune.
Trying to occupy her mind with thoughts other than worries over Chad’s future, Amelia opened the cupboard and searched for some bowls.
“Why don’t you attempt to start another gourmet meal and I’ll set the table. Then maybe I can scrounge up something for us to wear.”
He quirked his brow at her. “I thought you said you didn’t bring any clothes for either of us. Did you forget you packed for my kidnapping?”
She laughed. “No, but I’m sure my grandfather has something around here that can pass for dry, wearable clothing.”
Lightning flashed, illuminating the cabin, and Amelia gave a squeak of surprise.
Seconds later, the lights went out.
Before she could ask Chad if he was all right, his voice reached her in the dark.
“Great,” Chad said. “We’re wet, hungry, and in the dark. What else could possibly go wrong?”
Nature lit up the room again for a split second before a deafening boom shook the cabin. A loud tearing sound followed by a heavy crash rent the air. Metal screeched on metal, the noise as irritating as fingernails raking down a chalkboard.
In the dark, Amelia groped her way to the window by the door and peered out. She took a step backward when another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, allowing her to see outside.
“You want the bad news or the good news first?” she asked.
“The bad,” Chad said, his tone wary.
“The bad news is lightning hit the tree by the driveway and it fell across the front of your family’s limousine. It’s pretty well flattened.”
“And the good news?” Chad’s voice was soft, as though he was battling for control.
“The good news is we weren’t in it.”
Chapter Three
“I suppose saying ‘I told you so’ doesn’t help, but don’t you think a plan would come in handy right about now?” Chad’s breath stirred her damp hair, causing Amelia to jerk. Because the wooden floor was covered with thick, hand-woven rugs, she hadn’t heard his approach.
She backed up so the warmth of his chest was against her back. “How could I have planned for the one-in-a-million possibility a tree would take up residence in the limousine? There’s no way to predict things like that,” she said.
“A good plan always has a backup, a plan B if you will,” he replied. “Plans need a built-in escape clause in case something goes wrong with the first plan.”
“I have a plan B.” Amelia crossed her arms and tried to see the extent of damage done to their ride home with the streaks of lightning flashing across the sky. From what she could tell, the large tree had landed directly across the driver’s side, folding the roof into a vee shape.
“May I ask what exactly your plan B is?”
“Stay dry and warm in the cabin tonight and leave on foot at first light. We can walk to civilization and arrange a ride to get a rental car. How’s that?”
“The leaving at first light? Not very appealing,” Chad grumbled. “And there’s no phone here? Seriously?”
“As a matter of fact, no, there isn’t a phone. Walking is our only way out unless you have a better idea?”
“I’ll see if the tree spared the phone inside the back of the limousine. If it did, I’ll call out and arrange for someone to pick us up. We could be soaking in a warm tub of water within a few hours, laughing about the events of the evening.”
Amelia considered his idea. “And if the phone doesn’t work?”
“Then of course we move on to commonly overused plan C.”
“Which would be…?”
“Panic.”
Lightning illuminated the room, giving everything a ghostly hue, and Amelia felt Chad’s body stiffen. His fingers gripped her elbow. “Amelia, the room is filling up with smoke.”
