A Man After Midnight (9 page)

Caroline’s breath caught in her throat.  With shaky hands she took the box and eased open the lid.  A gold necklace twinkled at her, the chain thin and delicate.  A smiley face charm dangled on it.

“It’s to chase away the frown in your eyes,” he said softly.  “Don’t let the frowns win, Caroline.”

Unexpected tears sprang into her eyes at the tender and thoughtful gift.  It took her a moment of swallowing for the lump to disappear from her throat. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled.  “It’s perfect.”  She took the necklace out of the box and held it out to him.  “Could you put this on me?”

He nodded and she turned.  The delicate brush of his fingers over the back of her neck brought goose bumps to her arms.  Her heart thundered in her chest.  Still, after all they had done to and with each other, her blood still heated like it had upon meeting him for the first time.  Her body tingled to life.  She closed her eyes as she leaned into his hands, savoring the feel of them one last time on her skin.  Once the chain was hooked, he gripped her shoulders and leaned down, his nose coming to rest right behind her ear.  She heard his ragged breathing, felt the quiver in his body, and realized he was experiencing the same quicksilver reaction as she.  It was always like this between them.  Intense and powerful.

“I’ll go with you to La Guardia,” he murmured against her skin.

Her heart sang, happy to have delayed her inevitable broken heart.

****

The taxi let Aldy off first since she was flying out on a different airline.  She hugged Caroline tightly, tears shining in her dark eyes. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” Aldy whispered in her ear.

“I know,” Caroline murmured.  “But I’m okay.”

“I just can’t imagine life without you, my friend.”

“Same here.”

Aldy placed a kiss of her cheek.  “Call me when you get in.  Let me know you’re home safe.” 

Caroline nodded.  “I promise.”

It was sad watching her friend go and she waited until Aldy was out of sight before climbing back into the waiting car next to Wren.  The taxi sped to the next terminal where it braked quickly.  The driver jumped out and hurried to the trunk to take out her luggage.

As Wren paid the driver, Caroline noticed the bruising on his knuckles. The reminder of her close encounter sent a shiver down her back.  He picked up her luggage and they moved inside.  With the automatic check in kiosks Caroline had her boarding pass in a matter of minutes.  She eyed the short line at the airport inspection gate before turning to face Wren.  His eyes reflected the sea of people around him, a washed out moss color of control.

“I’m sorry about Gil,” he said.  “I’m having an investigator research his background to see if there are any other potential victims out there.”

The thought made her stomach clench.  “You think there could be other women?”

“How could there not be?” he asked wryly.  “The man has no respect for women and no respect for his position within the company.”

“What will you do if you find any other women?”

“Urge them to come forward and make sure he serves the maximum punishment allowed by law.”  Wren shrugged.  “At the very least, give them comfort he’s been brought to justice.”

“Thank you,” Caroline said.  “For all you did.  For all you’ve done.”

He brushed the hair at her temple. “I’m glad I was there.  However you got there, I’m glad you were in my life, Caroline Grace.”

He bent and brushed his mouth against hers, lingering for an all-too-brief moment.  A lump rose in her throat and she had to fight hard to keep the tears at bay. 

When he straightened, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. He held it out to her.  “My numbers.  I leave for Paris in a week.”

She hesitated, but before she could think things over she grabbed it and stuffed it in her purse.  He took her hand and squeezed it tight.

“Call me,” he said, quietly.

With one last look, she pulled her hand away and stepped into the inspection line, which thankfully was moving quickly.  She deliberately did not look back until she had gone through the detectors.  But when she finally turned around, Wren was nowhere to be seen. 

Chapter Thirteen

“Hey, Caroline,” Grant, the pharmacist, greeted as he walked into the store. The day was just about to begin and her two morning employees smiled at her as they took their tills to count them. 

“Morning, Grant,” she said, hurrying to get the store ready to open.

The bustle of the workday always helped take her mind off Wren. Work, in general, kept her occupied.  It was only when she went home at night and had time to remember the sex, the intimacy, and the way Wren had made her feel did it become a little too overwhelming. 

Made her feel a little too sad.

“So, are you recovering from the jet lag?” Grant asked.

She blinked and looked at him over the reports that she’d just printed out.  “Excuse me?”

“Your trip,” he said.  “You haven’t said much about it.”

It’d been a week since she’d flown home.  A week to think about everything that had happened.  A week to dream about Wren every night.  All the time in the world to reflect on everything that had happened to her.

“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 droop 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.