Going to the Chapel (9 page)

“
I’ll drive,” Chase
advised. “We can get the truck in the morning.”

Caroline marched through
the crowd without a backward glance. Chase had a feeling that she
was the furious one now. She ignored the flirtatious remarks tossed
at her. He glared at the guys who did the pitching. Though he
couldn’t imagine how with those heels and that short dress, she’d
climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep before he could round
the hood.

She didn’t utter a single
syllable the entire trip home. He grew more confused and irritated.
He wanted to shake her. To yell at her. But he had no right. He
shouldn’t even be feeling this way. It was just plain dumb. He
parked and skirted the hood only to find her already out and
smoothing the too short dress. She flipped her long, silky hair
over her shoulders and shot him a drop-dead look. The porch light
highlighted her murderous expression.

“
If you ever humiliate me
like that again, Chase Garrett, I will do…something.”

Her fury shouldn’t have
given him glee. But it did. He took a step closer when he knew he
shouldn’t. She was out of the vehicle already. He should just go
inside the house and forget this night ever happened.

But he didn’t.

“
Like what?” he demanded,
taking yet another step in her direction.

She backed up, only to be
halted by the Jeep. She blinked, then squared her shoulders as if
suddenly regaining her courage. “I don’t know what, but you won’t
like it. You’re not my father or my husband.”

There was that word again.
God, he hated that word and all it stood for in Caroline’s case.
The sound of Tristan Rodger’s polished voice echoed in his
head.

“
You had no right to drag
me back to your house like some sort of...of caveman.”

Chase took another step.
He’d lost his mind. That was a given. But every fiber of his being
cried out for her, yearned for him to be closer. To touch her. “I
took the right,” he rasped, the words low and thick with the lust
exploding inside him.

Her breath caught when he
closed the final step between them. Her breasts, clearly delineated
by the silky devil red fabric, rose and fell with her every breath.
He could see the pulse fluttering at the base of her delicate
throat. All that creamy, porcelain skin. All that thick black
hair.

“
Don’t you dare come any
closer,” she warned, her voice faltering.

Her gray eyes were wide
with expectation. Her lips trembled when his gaze lit there. And
the battle was lost. He kissed her. Threaded the fingers of both
hands into her hair and held on tight as he kissed her with all the
mixed up emotions whirling inside him...with all the fury he’d felt
since he laid eyes on her just over twelve hours ago.

She resisted at first, then
she relaxed. Her lips grew pliant beneath his. She tasted every bit
as sweet and hot as he remembered. More so, maybe. Her fingers
fisted in the cotton of his shirt. And he kissed her harder. He
plied her lips open and delved inside her soft, welcoming mouth.
She tried to pull him closer, he obliged, pressing his hips firmly
into her soft belly. Wishing he could bury himself inside her. He
wanted to hold her to him, make love to her until she cried for
mercy and then he wanted...

Chase stilled. She
whimpered.

This was a wrong on way too
many levels. He pulled away from her, feeling like the heel that he
was. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in an attempt to
dispel the feel of her, the taste of her.

“
I shouldn’t have done
that,” he murmured thickly.

Her eyes glittering with
renewed fury she shoved against his chest. “Well, now that you’ve
gotten that out of your system, maybe you can get on with your
life.” She stalked toward the porch.

A new kind of outrage burst
inside him. Did she think that he wanted her back? That he’d been
waiting for the opportunity to have her again?

Chase clenched his teeth
and planted his hands on his hips. She could just think again. He
didn’t need her. His life was just fine without her. He’d already
gotten on with his life.

And, one way or another,
before she left Lucy’s Branch again he’d prove it to
her.

Chapter Five

It was just like she
remembered. Caroline surveyed the friends and neighbors gathered to
repair Garrett County’s famous—or infamous, depending on how one
looked at it—wedding chapel. Growing up in Lucy’s Branch she had
watched the townspeople rally together in times of need. Whether it
was a devastating act of nature or simply a barn raising, all
turned out to do their part.

Though Caroline no longer
belonged here, Henri had insisted that she come. It was, after all,
Julie’s wedding at stake. If the repairs weren’t accomplished in a
timely manner, the wedding would have to be postponed yet another
week. Feeling immensely guilty about the whole situation, Caroline
had readily agreed to help out. She would, however, have given her
right arm not to have to spend the afternoon with Chase.

Her face reddened at the
memory of that kiss. She blew out a disgusted breath and grabbed a
bucket of paint and a brush. If she’d only managed not to respond,
the kiss wouldn’t have been so bad. But she had responded. She’d
melted against him, pulled him closer, and welcomed the feel of
him. There was no way he could have mistaken her reaction. Caroline
hesitated before she rounded the corner of the chapel. She closed
her eyes and savored, just one more time, the memory of that kiss.
It could never happen again, of course. But now, for only a moment,
she wanted to relive how it felt to be kissed by Chase. The taste
of him made her long for more. The feel of his hard, muscular body
made hers burn for him.

It was as if all this time
had not passed...as if it was eight years ago and they were still
truly, madly, deeply in love with each other. How could he command
such power over her even now? Caroline forced her eyes open and
started forward again. There was nothing between them anymore. Just
left over feelings from the past. They’d both been angry last
night. Their anger had overridden their better judgment, that’s
all. Chase probably regretted kissing her as much as she regretted
his having done so.

Her gaze landed squarely on
him at precisely that moment and the zing of desire that shot
through her belied her words. Clad in his usual attire of jeans and
a t-shirt, he was hammering away at the final pieces of replacement
siding. She watched the muscles in his powerful arms flex and
contract as he swung that hammer. His expression was intent, the
chiseled features of his face even more handsome than eight years
ago. She wondered vaguely how that was possible.

She shook herself and
turned her attention to the matter at hand. She’d volunteered to do
some of the painting. Now that the damaged framing and siding had
been replaced, all that was required was a couple of coats of fresh
paint. Another crew worked diligently to set the interior to
rights. Next Saturday at 10 a.m. Julie’s wedding would take
place—Lord willing and the creek didn’t rise, as Henri would say.
Caroline smiled to herself. And barring any unforeseen traffic
incidents.

As she climbed onto the
ladder to begin at the highest piece of newly installed siding, she
considered Julie’s complaints about her husband to be. Caroline
didn’t remember much about Rob other than he was nice enough and
somewhat handsome. She’d learned from Julie that he was the
president of the local bank now. From all accounts, he would appear
the perfect catch. But something wasn’t quite right. Julie wasn’t
happy. Caroline could only hope her friend wasn’t making a
monumental mistake.

Like you almost did? a
little voice taunted.

Caroline refused to dwell
on her own mistakes or anyone else’s. She dipped her brush into the
bucket of paint and made one broad stroke. She would put the past
out of her mind as easily as she concealed the raw wood with primer
and gleaming white paint. She had a whole new future to look
forward to that didn’t include the past. Looking back or
reminiscing would be a waste of time and very definitely
pointless.

~*~

Caroline’s arms felt like
limp noodles by the time she’d finished most of the upper part of
the replaced siding. She moved down the ladder a couple more rungs
and started on the mid section. This area was wider and a bit more
difficult to reach the edges on either side of her since her ladder
was set up pretty much in the middle. Straining, Caroline managed
to reach the right side. But the left proved considerably harder.
The thought crossed her mind that the best solution would be to
simply climb down and move the ladder, but she wanted to finish as
quickly as possible. Knowing that Chase wasn’t far away made her
edgy. She just wanted to do her part and get as far away from him
as possible.

“
You shouldn’t overreach
like that,” a warm, husky male voice warned.

Chase. Caroline shivered in
spite of herself.

“
I’m perfectly fine,” she
snapped. “You do your job and I’ll do—”

The ladder swayed. Caroline
shrieked. She grabbed for the rung above her. And then she was
falling.

When she hit the ground
somehow Chase’s arms were around her, and his body had absorbed
most of the impact. The ladder fell right on top of them but he
blocked most of that impact as well by rolling her onto her back,
keeping his head low so as not to get whacked. His face was buried
in the crook of her neck. She could feel his warm breath on her
skin...the weight of him pressing her against the ground. Something
cold and sticky penetrated the lust gathering in her
chest.

Paint.

The white paint covered
both of them from neck to thigh.

Chase shoved the ladder
aside and pushed up onto his knees. “You okay?”

“
Sure...I think.” She
executed a quick mental inventory.

A crowd gathered around
them but Caroline couldn’t take her eyes off the man hovering above
her. The wet paint plastered the tee to his broad shoulders and
sculpted chest. She looked down belatedly, realizing it had done
the same to her.

Standing now, he offered
his hand. Still a little rattled, she hadn’t realized he’d moved.
Thankfully she hadn’t hit her head. But why was she suddenly
dizzy?

Chase gripped her hand and
pulled her to her feet. Her knees buckled. His arm went around her
waist and pulled her weight against his side.

“
Gracious child, are you
all right?” Henri surveyed her with fearful eyes. “Chase, take her
home. Y’all need to get cleaned up and, from the looks of her, she
needs some rest.”

Caroline didn’t want to go
with Chase. They’d be alone and...

“
I’m okay,” Caroline
argued. “I can take myself home.”

“
You rode with us,” Chase
growled.

She had. Chase had offered
to haul away the debris in his old truck. So they’d come in it.
Caroline had been forced to sit in the middle. Henri had insisted
that it made her car sick to sit in the middle. Shane and some of
the other kids were staying with a couple who’d volunteered to do
the child care duty.

“
Marvin’ll give me a lift
home,” Henri added. “You just take care of our
Caroline.”

The other volunteers were
staring at Caroline. Murmuring emphasized Henri’s words, but
Caroline couldn’t quite make out what everyone was talking about.
What was wrong with her? She frowned. She felt so
lightheaded.

Chase practically dragged
her to his truck. He opened the passenger side door and helped her
inside. Caroline dropped her head against the back of the seat and
closed her eyes. She felt so woozy. It was weird.

“
Caroline.”

She opened her eyes to find
Chase leaning inside the cab peering down at her. “Yes,” she
managed.

“
Are you sure you’re all
right?”

She sighed. “I think I’m
just overtired. You know, responding to all the stress...” Her
voice trailed off. She wasn’t about to admit that Tristan’s
infidelity, the accident, and seeing Chase all over again was
likely the problem. She just needed to rest a little while and
she’d be as good as new again.

“
Just take me home,” she
said when he didn’t move. It wasn’t until he’d closed her door and
slid in behind the steering wheel that she realized what she’d
said.
Home
. She’d
asked him to take her home.

~*~

“I made you some hot
chocolate,” Chase announced when Caroline at last entered the
kitchen. She looked pale and tired. He swallowed hard at how
vulnerable she appeared with her damp hair hanging around her
shoulders and wearing Henri’s terry-cloth robe.

“
Thanks.” She settled
gingerly into a chair and smiled wanly.

His lips titled in an
answering gesture. “I remembered that you like marshmallows, too.”
He set the cup and saucer on the table, then picked up his own mug
of the sweet, warm stuff and joined her. “Are you sore?”