Return of the Bad Girl (34 page)

As the credits rolled, Caroline glanced over at Gabe, who had pulled up a chair near the daybed to watch. Honey had told him he couldn’t sit on the bed with them, and he’d taken it with humor.

“What do you mean, I can’t sit up there? I always sit up there!”

“Caroline and I are sitting up here. No boys allowed, even brothers.”

Caroline had laughed and agreed. “Yeah, girls only.”

Now, Gabe stood up and looked down at them, his eyes a little shiny as he cleared his throat. “Honey, Caroline and I have to leave.”

“No!” Honey said, wrapping her arms around Caroline’s waist.

“But we’ve got a long drive home, baby girl,” Gabe said patiently.

“You can stay here,” Honey said, her voice muffled.

Caroline held up her hand, and Gabe closed his mouth.

“Hey, Honey, did Gabe tell you about our kittens?”

Honey sat up quickly and shook her head. “You have kittens?”

“Two of them. Your brother saved them. He did this thing with his hands—”

“Like the puppy!” Honey cried, clapping her hands.

Caroline looked up at Gabe questioningly.

“I tried it on a stillborn puppy our dog had,” he said modestly.

“He learned it from
101 Dalmatians
,” Honey said.

“I see,” Caroline said, pulling out her cell phone. “Here are some pictures of Googlie and Possum when they’re eating.” She swiped her finger across the screen. “And this is when they really started moving around.”

Honey reached out and started swiping her finger over the screen, searching through the pictures, and Caroline said, “How about the next time we come to visit, I bring a bunch of pictures, just for you?”

Honey nodded vigorously, still staring hard at the images. “I love animals.”

Caroline stood up, and Sharla stepped forward. “Honey, it’s time for you to see Dr. Hamilton.”

Sharla touched Honey’s shoulder, and she finally acknowledged her. Caroline waited and watched as Honey stopped to give Gabe a hard bear hug. Gabe kissed the side of her head and said, “You take care now, baby girl.”

“You too, Gabey,” Honey said, moving on to Caroline. When she hugged her, Honey whispered in her ear, “Take care of him.” When she pulled away, Honey was smiling at her, sweetly. “Bye.”

Caroline let Gabe take her hand and lead her out of the room. Gabe was walking so fast, she could hardly keep up.

“Gabe, slow down. Did I do something wrong?” she asked as they passed through the main reception area.

“No,” Gabe said as he dragged her around the side of the building and pressed her back against the wall.

“What—”

Gabe’s mouth slammed down on hers, his hands all over her as he kissed her. She turned to mush as his passion washed over her, pressing her into the building as he made love to her mouth. It was different from every other kiss they’d ever had, almost desperate.

When he pulled away, his hand was tangled in her hair, and neither of them could catch their breath.

Her breathing finally started to slow, and she laughed huskily. “Well, that was definitely new.”

His shoulders heaved under her hands, and she realized Gabe wasn’t just trying to catch his breath.

He was crying.

“Hey, Gabe,” she said, ducking her head to look at his face. He pulled away and wiped at his eyes with his T-shirt.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Caroline stood there, unsure of what she was supposed to do, but finally reached out for him. Pulling him back into her arms, she stroked her hands over his back and kissed his chest. She didn’t say anything as she held him, waiting for him to collect himself.

After a minute, he lifted his head and cupped her face. “You are amazing.”

Caroline’s own eyes stung as she covered his hands with hers. “I didn’t do anything.”

Gabe dropped his forehead to hers. “Yes, you did.” He kissed her softly, tenderly. “I want to take you home,” he said, releasing her face and reaching into his pocket for his keys.

“Okay.”

But instead of a ring with several keys, he pulled out a single key with a wine-bottle charm attached.

“No, I want to take you back to
our
home,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s not the same there without you.”

Sniffling, she took the key from him and laughed wetly. “We’ll have to rescue Possum and Googlie.”

“Of course, but first,” he said, pulling her into his arms, “I want to take you home and show you how much you mean to me.”

“Yeah? So . . .”

“You should probably call your sister and tell her she’s cat-sitting for the night.”

Epilogue

“As I am tasked with reporting
all
the gossip, I should like to be the first to inform you that two years from the day of her return to Rock Canyon, Miss Caroline Willis became Mrs. Gabe Moriarty in a small-but-tasteful ceremony.”

—Miss Know It All

G
ABE
M
ORIARTY HAD
never expected to fall in love, get married, or live out his dream in a small town in Idaho, but here he was, coming home from a ten-hour day to find his wife asleep on the couch.

Although they no longer lived in the little two-bedroom apartment above Chloe’s Book Nook, the furniture still looked the same—with the addition of a brown La-Z-Boy chair Caroline had bought him for their one-year anniversary. All of it fit nicely in their three-bedroom house off Oak Avenue, with a quarter-acre lot and a two-car garage. The house was affordable without straining their finances.

Gabe washed his hands at the sink and came back to hover over his wife, who was being guarded by their cats, Googlie and Possum, each fifteen pounds and both lazy as hell. Gabe pulled out his phone and took a picture of Caroline, mouth hanging open, with the cats curled up on her chest and stomach.

Coming around the front of the couch, he shooed the cats off and lifted her into his arms, careful of her stomach. The baby bump was just starting to show, and Caroline had been obsessed with getting a picture of it every day, just to show how much it had grown. He’d tried to tell her they could do it once a month and the change would be more dramatic, but she ignored him.

Cradling her against his chest, he leaned over to kiss her forehead. One of his favorite things about his wife was how soundly she slept, even when he jostled her.

As he carried her back to their master bedroom, he peeked in on the nursery Caroline had been working on over the last month, despite the fact that they still had five to go. He took in the lemon yellow walls covered with pictures of zoo animals and smiled at the progress she’d been making. “Good job, princess.”

She mumbled something softly, and he continued on into their room, where he could lay her down on the bed. Covering her with a blanket, he started to leave, but Caroline grabbed his hand sleepily.

“Stay with me?”

As he climbed in behind her, he placed his mouth beside her ear and whispered, “Always.”

Acknowledgments

W
RITING A BOOK
can sometimes take a village, and my village rocks! Thank you first to my husband, for his support. My family for cheering me on. My editor, Chelsey, as always, for her feedback and suggestions. The newest team member, my agent, Sarah; how did I live without you? The entire staff at Avon for your savvy style and for keeping us informed. All of the authors from Avon for being such a wonderful support system. For my friends Ellie Macdonald, Candis Terry, Nicole Flockton, and Tina Klinesmith; I adore you! To the ladies of my review crew, for squealing along with me. And thank you to the baristas at my favorite coffee shop, Broadway Java, for keeping me caffeinated on Sundays.

The love doesn’t end here!

Keep reading for a sneak peek at Codi Gary’s next Rock Canyon romance

BAD FOR ME

Coming April 2015 from Avon Impulse

An Excerpt from

BAD FOR ME

“A
ND THAT WAS
John Michael Montgomery, with ‘I Swear,’ ” Callie Jacobsen said into the microphone. “For all you Little Big Town lovers, this one’s for you.”

Turning on the next track, Callie stretched her arms above her head and yawned. As the morning DJ for Kat Country 106.1, she was at work from four in the morning until noon, even eating while on air. The small radio station had three on-air DJs during the week, and two part-time on the weekends. Although it might have been nice to sleep in and take the afternoon shift, Callie enjoyed the early morning callers.

Okay, well, one caller in particular. He went by Rhett, which probably wasn’t his real name, but who cared? He had been calling in for over a year now, the same time every day, but what had started out as simple song requests had ended up striking a chord in her every time. Mostly because every one of the songs he’d chosen had been a favorite of hers.

Okay, he also had an amazing voice. A rough, deep rumble that made her toes curl every time she heard him on the line. It reminded her of Deacon Clayborne’s voice from
Nashville
, her favorite show, and maybe that was what made her so infatuated with him.

It was crazy, really, but each time she heard his voice over the line, the butterflies he woke in her stomach fluttered like crazy. And it had been a long time since she’d had butterflies. Not since high school.

Not since Tristan.

Callie rubbed her chest and felt the bumps and ridges of the scars under her plain T-shirt, a constant reminder of how good love could go bad. Really bad.

Which was why she usually stayed clear of romantic entanglements. It was hard enough to trust anyone, let alone someone looking to get into her pants. She’d had a few stress-relief partners over the years, but she’d never gone back to their places.

And they were never truly alone—not when her dog never left her side.

Kicking off her shoes, she rubbed her feet over Ratchet’s belly. The 130-pound Anatolian Shepard went everywhere with her but usually found that sleeping under her DJ table was the best place to get belly rubs. She’d jokingly called him “Killer” to a few folks when she’d first moved to town five years ago, and word had spread pretty quickly that there was a crazy new girl in Rock Canyon with a vicious beast of a dog. She had a few close friends who knew how nice Ratchet really was, but to the rest of the world, her dog’s size was enough of a deterrent to keep people from messing with her. And Callie liked it that way.

Little Big Town’s latest hit came to an end, and Callie leaned forward to speak into the mic. “Coming up next we’ll be taking requests for our ‘Crack of Dawn’ hour, so all you early birds can listen to your favorite hits as you start your daily grind.” She smiled then as their station intern, Dalton, held up a cup in the window with the Local Bean Coffee Shop’s logo on the side. “And speaking of grind, try waking up at three thirty and still being as entertaining as me. Let me tell you, it takes work and a lot of coffee, so we’re going to take a commercial break. Callie Jay will get herself a little java pick-me-up, and you stick around for more of today’s hottest country on the Kat.”

Turning off the mic, she waved Dalton in. The kid was a big improvement to the little bastard the University of Southern Idaho had sent her last semester. The intern had been into punk rock and had had an attitude about everything, from the music to the people who came into the station. Despite the fact that he knew what kind of station he had signed up for, instead of putting his whole heart into the job, he had blanched at every task. Callie had sent him packing within a week, after making a call to his professor, stating that he needed a work ethic before being placed in another internship.

Dalton was a complete one-eighty, a good ole boy, just turned eighteen and eager to learn. He had only been there a month, but he’d jump into the next job without her even having to ask. She couldn’t have asked for better.

Plus, he was pretty to look at, with a tall, rangy frame and sweet smile. Sure, he was just this side of jail-bait, but Callie would have to be dead not to notice that he was a cutie.

As he came in through the door, Ratchet stood up to say hi. Most of the staff still gave him a wide berth, but Dalton had never been nervous around the big dog. He’d told Callie that he’d grown up on a sheep ranch outside of Shoshone around Great Pyrenees dogs, which were similar to Anatolians but hairier.

“Here’s your coffee, Callie,” Dalton said. He handed her the cup before kneeling down to pet Ratchet. “Hey, big guy, you gotta go handle your business?” Dalton took Ratchet’s leash from the desk and asked, “That okay if I take him outside to go to the bathroom?”

“Thanks, Dalton, you’re a godsend,” Callie said before taking a small sip of the hot liquid. Sweet spices filled her mouth, and she sighed. “Man, that is good.”

Dave, her producer, signaled her for the countdown, and she set her coffee on the desk. When he pointed at her, she flicked the mic back on and said, “And we’re back with our all-request hour. So get to your phones and call 208-333-3KAT—unless you’re driving or eating. No one wants to hear you talk around a mouthful of bagel, and we all want you to make it safely to wherever you’re going.”

Her tech held up his finger, and she hit the line-one button.

“First caller, what can I do you for?”

“Hi, I’d like to hear ‘Teardrops on My Guitar’ by Taylor Swift,” a young female voice said over the line.

“Sure, honey, what’s your name? And is there anyone specific you want this going out to?”

“Um . . . do I have to say?” the girl asked nervously.

Callie smiled. Poor kid. “No, of course not. I’ll get that on the air for you right now.”

“Thanks.” The line went dead, and Callie flipped on the track, taking the next call. By the time six twenty rolled around, both lines were blinking, and she had half an hour of music to play.

And Rhett had missed his call-in.

He’d been calling every morning at six thirteen for months and hadn’t missed a morning yet. The calls had started off like any other, but lately, they had been getting friendlier and friendlier. Even her friends and coworkers had started to tease her about it, but she swore up and down, there was nothing to it. It’s not like she’d ever meet him or anything.