Going to the Chapel (6 page)

...when he was supposed to
have married Caroline.

Chase looked up at her.
“This is Shane,” he told her, fatherly pride evident in his voice,
on his handsome face. His gaze held hers when she would have looked
away. “My son,” he finished, the words echoing all the way to the
farthest recesses of her soul.

Caroline pushed a smile
into place and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,
Shane.” It wasn’t the child’s fault his father had been unfaithful
to the woman he was supposed to have loved. Something shifted near
her heart when little fingers closed around hers and gave her hand
an exaggerated shake. A pair of Garrett blue eyes assessed her with
unguarded fascination. Shane was a beautiful little boy, she
acknowledged.

“
I’m seven years old,” he
piped up. His little face suddenly scrunched in confusion. “I don’t
think I know you.”

“
This is Dr. Gregory,”
Chase explained quickly. “She grew up in Lucy’s Branch.” He flicked
an unreadable glance at Caroline. “But she’s been gone a really
long time. She’ll be visiting with us a couple of days.”

The child eyed her
suspiciously. “You don’t give shots, do ya?”

Caroline smiled then. She
couldn’t help herself. “Not unless it’s absolutely
necessary.”

He nodded slowly as if
considering her answer, then suddenly bolted toward the steps.
“I’ll tell Aunt Henri we gots company!”

Caroline stared after the
little boy for a long moment following his disappearance into the
house. Weariness weighed down on her like a wet wool coat. Whatever
energy and resolve she’d had left evaporated the instant she laid
eyes on Chase’s son. The whole morning had been one emotional
rollercoaster ride. The chapel, the town, Chase—she met the
concerned gaze now leveled on her—had resurrected memories and
emotions buried for more than eight years.

How would she ever survive
the weekend without Chase seeing exactly how badly he had hurt her?
How long would it take him to figure out that her great escape all
those years ago had not taken her where she wanted to
go?

Yet, she amended as she
squared her shoulders. She wasn’t about to give up just yet on her
own version of happily ever after. Renewed determination rallied.
Nothing about her future happiness depended upon this man or his
town.

Absolutely
nothing.

Caroline Gregory was a
survivor. Several times over, she added morosely. Sure, being back
in Lucy’s Branch was unsettling, and seeing Chase again was
unnerving, but she could deal with it. She was long over him. There
was no reason for her to feel even remotely
uncomfortable.

~*~

Caroline turned around
slowly in the quiet guestroom. White lace curtains fluttered in the
breeze from the open window. A matching spread draped an antique
four-poster bed. She closed her eyes. Her newly shored up fortitude
crumbled. This was entirely too much. How could she be here in this
house...with Chase, and trying to pretend that it didn’t matter?
She shook her head slowly from side to side. She could probably
snag an appearance on Dr. Phil with this twisted tale of infidelity
and lost love. Wouldn’t Tristan and his wealthy friends get a kick
out of that sordid story?

The thought ushered a
genuine smile to her lips. Tristan would have a cerebral hemorrhage
if he discovered the extent of the damage she had done to his new
toy. If Caroline were lucky, Zac could make all the necessary
repairs in a timely manner. The last thing she wanted was a
confrontation with Tristan about his stupid little car. Though it
might be somewhat amusing to watch him cry over the twisted and
bent hunk of foreign metal, she was no glutton for punishment.
Especially if she was the one on the receiving end of the
reckoning. Legally she was responsible for the damage.

A light knock sounded at
the door behind her. Caroline turned to find Chase standing in the
open doorway, her suitcase in his hand. The smile on her lips died
an abrupt death.

His gaze collided with
hers, cloaking them both in instant tension. How could a man who
hadn’t shaved and was wearing nothing but faded jeans and a t-shirt
look so damned good? Especially this man—a man she knew from
experience she couldn’t trust with her heart. Her breath stalled
when he stepped into the room and slowly closed the distance
between them. He paused near the bed long enough to deposit her
suitcase there.

One of those noncommittal
half shrugs lifted his shoulder, but didn’t quite follow through
with the gesture. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you
outside.” He shifted that analyzing gaze to the floor for a long
moment before meeting hers once more. “Lucy’s Branch is your home
the same as it is mine. And—” he dipped his head “—you’ll always be
welcome in my home.”

Just not in your heart,
Caroline added silently. Myriad emotions tugged at her. She was so
very tired. She shouldn’t feel this way. She wasn’t thinking
straight. How could a man who had betrayed her appear so utterly
concerned for her welfare now? And how could she respond so
fiercely? Didn’t matter. Getting through this was the
goal.

“
Thank you.” Her throat
constricted all over again. Dear God, could she not even look at
him without getting choked up?

Chase slowly lifted one
hand and swept a wisp of hair from her cheek. Pure desire barbed
through her at the feel of his fingers against her skin. The memory
of his touch was forever emblazoned on her heart. His gaze traced
her lips as he lowered that same hand every bit as slowly as he had
lifted it. Was he remembering, too?

This whole thing was
crazy...surreal.

“
You look tired,” he said
gently.

Too gently.

Caroline blinked away the
hypnotic trance she had allowed herself to slip into.
Chemistry, nothing more
.
Intellectually, she understood how it worked. Basic biology with a
little shared past thrown in. Her emotions were on the rebound
right now. She needed to prove to her bruised ego that she was
still desirable. That was all.

Retreating a step, she
tunneled her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit she had
tried to break for years. “I’m fine.” That she managed the
statement with some sense of fortitude provided a shot of
relief.

A little slack was needed
here. Yes, she continued to bounce around in surrealville, but
there was a perfectly logical explanation. No doubt she suffered
from some sort of delayed reaction related to Tristan’s
unfaithfulness. Post-traumatic stress syndrome probably. And then,
of course, the morning’s events had added salt to the wound. That
would explain her inability to control her emotions. One minute she
was determined, the next uncertain. She would be fine as soon as
she had eaten, had some rest and a chance to pull herself
together.

Chase smiled then, again
wrecking her equilibrium. “I know you’re fine, Caroline,” he
drawled, his tone like slow, hot sex on a sultry summer night. “But
you’re obviously tired. I just wanted you to know that if you’d
like to take a nap or something, I’ll check with Zac and see what
the prognosis is on your car.”

More confusion joined the
mix of emotions. Why the sudden about face? Why would Chase care if
she was tired? Why would it matter to him if her car was repairable
or not? She blinked. Why was he standing so close? And looking at
her as though she were his only true concern at the
moment?

Realization dawned, shaking
her with its intensity. He had asked why she came back.
Oh, no
. She resisted the
urge to shake her head vigorously. He couldn’t think—no! No, no,
no, no! Surely he didn’t think she had come back for him. Did he
somehow believe that she hoped for reconciliation? The arrogant
jerk! Rage overpowered all else. She glared at him, ready to do
battle.

“
I don’t need your help,
Chase Garrett.” She braced her hands at her waist. “I’m perfectly
capable of taking care of myself and seeing after my own
affairs.”

Chase knew he wouldn’t soon
forget the transformation from uncertainty to outright rage on
Caroline’s pretty face. He drew back slightly in anticipation of a
possible physical display of her wrath.

“
If you don’t mind, I’d
like some privacy,” she announced. “I have a lot to take care since
I’m leaving
early
Monday morning.”

He made the monumental
mistake of watching her lips as she spoke. Her lips had always
mesmerized him. So full, so deliciously red without even a hint of
lipstick. The color contrasted the creamy porcelain of her skin,
and then the absolute black of her hair. Every fine-boned feature
of her china doll face spoke of delicacy, vulnerability, yet he
knew her strength. He gave himself a mental shake. No matter how he
denied it, he had always known that Caroline was the most beautiful
woman in the world. Time hadn’t changed that fact. Would she still
taste the same? Sweet and hot. She cleared her throat, yanking him
out of that dangerous zone. He’d been staring, not to mention lost
in his lust.

That was it. No more
mooning over a woman who hadn’t loved him enough to stay eight
years ago, and sure as hell didn’t love him now. Nor would she be
staying. And, if he worked at it, he could conceivably convince
himself that he didn’t care one way or another. “You can use my old
truck to do whatever you have to do while you’re here. I need to
get back to the office.” Anywhere besides here.

“
Thanks.”

“
Yeah.” A smart man would
walk away now. He turned to do just that.

“
Chase.”

The vulnerability in her
voice when she said his name pulled him to a stop. He turned slowly
to face her. She twisted a tendril of that silky black hair in her
fingers. One second turned to five. He wondered if she intended to
say anything else.

“
Look,” she began, “this is
ridiculous.” She shook her head. “We’re both adults. What happened
in the past is just that—the past.” Her eyes met his and the
uncertainty he saw in that silvery gaze despite her determined
words tugged on something deep inside him, made him want to hold
her and promise her that everything would be all right.

“
I guess what I’m trying to
say,” she rambled on, “is that we should try to at least act civil
to each other.” Her shoulders squared as if she’d found her stride.
“I don’t want to hurt Aunt Henri’s feelings. She loves us both. We
need to get through this as painlessly as possible for her
sake.”

Chase thought about that
for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Henri
deserved better. She had stepped in and helped him at a time in his
life when things couldn’t have gotten any worse. He owed her much
more than he could ever begin to repay.

Caroline owed her,
too.

“
You’re right. If Henri
wants one big, happy family for the weekend, I suppose we can give
her that.”

“
Good.” Caroline folded her
arms over her breasts. “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t be
able to deal with—” she lifted one shoulder, then let it fall
“—whatever for the next forty-eight hours.”

He nodded once.
“Sure.”

She smiled, the gesture
undermining his already compromised willpower. “Maybe I’ll just
have a long, hot bath and then drive into town to check on the
Porsche.”

The image of Caroline naked
in a steaming bath jetted across his mind. Every muscle in his body
tightened with the remembered sensation of touching her, of making
love to her in the back seat of his dad’s old car, on the creek
bank in the moonlight. As if she had just remembered the same
thing, desire flickered in her eyes. Heat radiated between them,
drawing him closer when he hadn’t intended to move. Close enough to
smell that sweet scent that he had never forgotten. That delicate
pulse fluttering at the base of her throat hypnotized him. He
wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to wake up tomorrow. He
wanted to make love to her again.

Right here.

Right now.

He needed to get the hell
out of here. He backed up a step. What the hell was wrong with him?
Strolling down memory lane wasn’t his style. “That
sounds...ah...great.” He backed up another two steps. “Have
yourself a nice...bath.” A quick, tight smile stretched his lips
and he turned and strode away.

Caroline might survive the
weekend, but the only way he would was if he stayed as far away
from her as possible. Maybe he would just sleep at the office
tonight.

Relief trickled inside him.
That was the answer. He would simply make himself scarce until
Caroline Gregory was out of here. He could take Shane fishing. He
could go out with the boys. He could do a lot of things.

But nothing he did would
stop him from wanting her.

Chapter Four

“There you go, buddy.”
Chase lifted his son from the passenger side of his Jeep. He was
pouting. Chase couldn’t blame him, he wanted to pout too...only for
an entirely different reason.

“
But I didn’t catch any
fish,” Shane muttered as Chase settled him onto his
feet.