by Marina Adair
“Good to see you. I heard you were back.” Jackson’s walkie-talkie cut in and he listened and sighed. “Let’s grab a beer later. It seems I need to go arrest my grandma. She assaulted some guy with her peaches.”
Jace didn’t bother to ask for clarification, just agreed to a beer. Then he turned to Ben, who had decided to stay—and chat? Apparently, he wanted to play friends. “Are you leaving town?”
Or not. “That’s always been the plan.”
Ben looked over at Charlotte, who was still deep in conversation with Mr. Neil. “Is she going with you?”
Jace went still. “No. Why, did she say she was?” Because that would be fan-fucking-tastic. He’d been racking his brain trying to come up with a plan that would work for both of them. All he’d managed was a splitting headache. Then he remembered. “I am positive you guys got the money for the clinic. She’d be crazy to leave now.”
“Then none of this makes sense,” Ben said, not nearly as excited as one should be to discover that they’d just landed a few mil. With a sigh he met Jace’s gaze. “Do you love her?”
“With everything that I am.”
Ben nodded, as though his answer hurt but he respected it. “Then no matter what happens, don’t let her leave. She’s worked her ass off for this clinic, and she deserves to see it through.”
“I agree.”
“Good, because Reginald just offered me the position of medical director at the Grow Clinic,” Ben said. “And the only reason he’d do that was if Charlotte was leaving.”
* * *
The sun was starting to set when Charlotte finally finished her shift at the booth. Handing out the bumper stickers that said OUR DOCTORS GIVE GOOD SUGAR, she went in search of some ice cream. The Sugar Gun and Ammo Club was selling soft-serve cones dipped in chocolate. She was going to bring one to Jace, who was still acting as security at the car show, and tell him the exciting news.
Celebrate with the one person she’d wanted to have by her side when she shook Mr. Neil’s hand.
She stopped next to the DOUBLE BARRELED AND DOUBLE DIPPED banner dancing with the breeze when a familiar sizzle shimmer down her spine. She slowly turned to find Jace.
Waiting for her.
He stood by the side entrance to the medical center, propping up the entire building with his shoulder, and had two chocolate-dipped cones in hand. His shirt was untucked, his face dark with the day’s stubble, and even though his sunglasses hid his eyes, when he took a lick from the cone it was as if telling her his plans for later.
Her knees wobbled.
She gave him a smile, a real one that came all the way from her soul, and headed over. “How was the car show—whoa…”
Jace handed her the ice cream, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her around the corner behind some delivery trucks, and into the loading dock behind the clinic.
“Jace, what are you—”
That was all she managed before he sank his free hand into her hair, pinned her to the wall with his body, and fused his mouth to hers. He tilted her face, aligning it perfectly, before taking the kiss deeper.
Only deep didn’t even begin to describe it. Jace consumed her, took her right out of her head, and over the edge. She lost herself in the sensation of being wanted, the wave of desire and need that washed over her.
This was what she’d needed all day. Connection. Passion. Heat.
Jace.
She tried to pull him closer and balance her ice-cream cone, a difficult task but she managed. She considered the physics behind pulling off his shirt while holding the cone, then decided to screw the cone and dropped it, right as the kiss ended.
“You dropped your cone,” he said—to her mouth.
“I can get another. We can get it to go,” she said suggestively.
“Best idea yet, but Payton is only covering my break. I am on car-watching duty until Drew comes to pick up the cars at nine. Rain check?”
“I have to make sure that all the tents get returned. Which means I can’t cash in the rain check until late.” She let out a breath. “I missed you today. Missed this.”
“Me too,” he said against her mouth, giving her what must have been the kiss to end all kisses. Soft, hungry, and better than ice cream. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you all day.”
“Me too.”
He liked that answer, his boyish grin said as much. He nuzzled her for a moment, then sat down on the edge of the loading dock, pulling her onto his lap. He took a lick of his cone, making a big deal about how good it was, then when she was pouting offered it to her. And sharing was way better than having her own cone.
“Everyone is talking about you and your new car,” she said, referring to the parade, which because of Jace and his “favors” had been one of the most well-received parades in recent years. And every board member had made a point during the day to tell her so.
Well, every Peach except Darleen.
“Everyone’s talking about how Hattie flipped the sheriff the finger when he refused to let her use the portable sirens on the car,” he said, making himself right at home, his hands roaming her body as she took another lick of the cone.
“No, I think they were talking about how nice it was to see you in the parade,” she said, telling him the God’s honest truth. “How sweet you were to provide all of those fancy cars for the parade, including your dad’s, and how because of you the parade was perfect.”
“I’m far from sweet, Charlie.” Slowly he slid the sunglasses down to the end of his nose and his deep-blue eyes locked on hers. “And we both know that the parade was perfect because of you. The idea was yours, the execution was yours, and the volunteers, the town, even the Peaches, all came together to make this happen because of you. You made the parade about this town and its residents, and I bet they will be talking about this fair for years.”
Unsure what to say to such a statement, she held his gaze. Hers went little blurry with emotion, his remained unguarded and unwavering. “Thank you,” she finally whispered. “Today was important, and what you said…” She shook her head and swallowed. “That was—”
“Don’t say sweet.”
She didn’t say anything at all, just smiled. He smiled, too, then leaned forward and went after the cone—with his teeth.
“We got the endowment.” Wow, saying that, to him, made it all the more real. The money, the confidence, the hands-off approach Mercy was willing to take. All of it. “Five years, Jace. They gave me five years to make a go of this.”
“I never doubted you,” he said, but something changed in his tone. “Never once. You deserve this, Charlie. You deserve to make it exactly how you imagined it.”
She nodded. “I know. I do. I really do.” And when she said it she believed it.
She hadn’t just lost Jace four years ago, she’d lost her job and her identity. But today she’d managed to finally let go of all the what-could-have-beens that came with thinking about her time in Atlanta. Let go of expectations and accepted that everything turned out the way it was supposed to.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “And in a few weeks the doors will open and I will be Dr. Charlotte Holden. Medical Director of the Grow Clinic.”
“Yes, you will be.” There was so much conviction in his voice her heart melted.
“And all because I found my voice.”
“You roared,” he said, resting his head on hers.
She closed her eyes. “Oh, my word, you heard that?”
“Baby, the whole town heard.” He laughed, and she decided she liked the endearment baby. She liked anything that came from Jace. “If we ever put our kids in Little League, remind me never to let you coach.”
Her heart stopped at his statement. His stopped, too. She felt it as she lifted her head to look at him. “Did you say our kids?”
“Huh, I guess I did.” And he didn’t even look like he wanted to run.
* * *
It was well after eight by the time Drew loaded up his cars.
Jace thanked his buddy, and after promising him a cold one when he got back to Atlanta, he headed toward Sugar Lake. He didn’t go to Charlotte’s, though. Nope, he went west, straight for her father’s house. He didn’t know what kind of sick game her old man was playing, but Jace was going to make sure that whatever happened, Charlotte was on the winning team.
There were three types of homes on Sugar Lake, some newer builds like his brothers’, but most were like Charlotte’s, modest family homes that had been built around the turn of the century—the nineteenth century. Jace pulled into the driveway of the third kind, a twenty-thousand-square-foot three-story Greek Revival mansion, which was on the water only because back in the day that was where the cotton plantation ended. With its marble columns, crisp white clapboard siding, and sweeping front staircase, it stood as a living reminder of just how powerful and rich in history Charlotte’s roots were.
Reaching the end of the quarter-mile magnolia and oak-lined drive, Jace parked next to the family’s Rolls-Royce. He took in the car, which most likely cost more than his entire net worth, and felt the tension knot in his neck. He wasn’t unaccustomed to nice things; his parents had done more than all right for themselves. And the McGraw name carried a weight that only added to his résumé. But in Sugar there was money, and then there was Holden money, and there were several zeroes and former politicians separating the two.
Jace climbed out of his Chevelle and saw Reginald Holden the Third sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. Backlit by the porch light, he appeared imposing. Formidable. But Jace wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, because he knew better than most that appearances didn’t mean jack shit.
Take him, for example. He was built like a tank, had a record, enough ink for an entire platoon, and tended to scare small children. Yet he would rather cut off his arm than hurt someone he cared about.
Reginald might look like a man to be respected, admired even, but Jace knew that anyone who could treat their daughter the way he did was nothing but a bully. Or maybe he was scared that if Charlotte found her own success she wouldn’t need him anymore. Either way made him a coward.
Jace walked up the front steps, his boots clicking against the whitewashed wooden slats.
“Have a seat,” Reginald said, pointing to the chair across from his. In the middle there was a small beverage table that held a china tray with a crystal decanter and two tumblers. Filled with scotch. No ice.
“You were expecting someone?” Jace asked, taking a seat.
“You,” he said, picking up the tumbler in offering. Jace waved it off and Reginald sat back with a shrug. “After I saw you talking with Ben earlier, I figured it would either be you or my daughter.”
“Why did you offer the position to Ben without talking to Charlotte?” he wanted to know.
“Charlotte was on the list of candidates, a short list, but there was a list.” He took a sip of his scotch. “Her becoming the medical director wasn’t a given.”
“Bullshit. Everyone knew that Charlotte was going to be the medical director. Even Ben. She raised the money for the new ward, came up with the plan and treatments for the Grow Clinic, even secured an endowment when you couldn’t. So yeah, she might not be the only one qualified for the position, but you know she is the most qualified.”
“A few weeks ago, I couldn’t have agreed with you more.”
“Then what happened between then and offering Ben the position?” Jace asked, wondering if the older man’s answer would hurt as much as he thought it would. He didn’t care if Charlotte’s parents liked him, but Charlotte would. She cared about everyone in her world, and in the best possible way. She had a huge heart and always took others’ feelings into account. It was what he loved most about her.
So if something was important to Charlotte then Jace would make it a priority, but he couldn’t help it if this guy hated his guts. And that made him nervous.
Reginald swirled the liquid around the side of the tumbler and laughed. “It’s not what you’re thinking. Are you the person I would have chosen for the great-great-granddaughter of a former United States Vice President?” He paused dramatically. “It is clear you care for her, but no, you weren’t what I would have chosen. But she is an adult who makes her own choices. And she chose.” He sipped his scotch and looked out at the lake.
A zillion stars reflected off the water’s surface, expanding and stretching as the water rippled against the shoreline. As calm and peaceful as it was, Jace felt anything but. He watched Reginald watching the water, swirling his drink, acting as though his answer would suffice, and a hot, bitter roll of frustration pounded Jace’s head.
“You’re going to crush her,” he said, at a complete and total loss. “Absolutely crush her world, and you’re acting like you don’t care. Like this is nothing more than replacing the battery in your car.”
“I care, Mr. McGraw,” he said, a fire to his tone, the first sign of emotion he’d seen from the guy so far. “As a doctor and medical director, I am charged with caring. For this town, my family, the clinic, a rich legacy that I refuse to tarnish. Do you know a doctor’s most important asset?”
Jace thought about the thousands of hours Charlotte spent studying, interning, treating patients. How many mentors she trained under and how much she put into finding the right solutions for tough problems. “Dedication.”
“No. It’s truth,” he said. “People rely on doctors to tell them the truth, even if the prognosis is a long, suffering death. Because truth builds trust, and if a patient doesn’t trust their doctor we can’t do our job, regardless of how talented and dedicated we are.”
Reginald leaned forward and set down his glass. “My daughter chose to elope and keep it a secret.”
“She had her reasons,” Jace said. For the life of him he couldn’t remember any at the moment, but she’d had them. A whole spreadsheet full.
Reginald chuckled. “I’m sure she did, my wife being at the top of the list. Yet she still had a choice, and had the annulment gone through no one would be the wiser. But it didn’t, and she came home, began practicing at the hospital, building a reputation, building trust within her patients and the staff, even convinced a prestigious nonprofit to invest millions of dollars. All the while pretending to be single, dating, mostly men her mother shoved on her, asking for people to put faith in her assessments, to be honest with her, and yet she was living a lie.”
“How did you find out?”
Reginald offered Jace the tumbler again, and this time he took it. He had a sinking feeling he’d need the entire decanter by the time this conversation was over.
“Last week Charlotte refused to come in early, and one of her ladies’ group friends asked me if the facilities would be made available to the public on the day of the fair. I told her to ask my daughter, who she informed me was fishing. With you.” He eyed Jace. “Charlotte doesn’t fish, doesn’t even own a boat. But I had seen yours docked at her house. Remembering how you left town and wanting to make sure you weren’t fishing for gold in my family’s pond, I did some calling around. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you two weren’t just having an unsavory fling. Did you know marriage certificates are public record?”
He knew. It was how the whole loan mess stared to begin with.
“It didn’t take long after that to discover the annulment filings. Two. Thankfully, it looks as though the second one will come through.”
“She made a mistake,” Jace said. “She was hurt and upset when she came home. I can’t blame her for wanting to deal with the heartache in her own way.” That he was the cause of the heartache killed him.
“I know, and as her father I want to make everything better,” he said, and Jace believed him. Holden might be a grade-A dick, but deep down he loved his daughter. “However, as the director of the hospital, I understand that I serve a small, conservative Southern town, and I can’t risk her personal choices affecting patients’ or investors’ faith in our ability to treat them. Or be honest.”<
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Jace closed his eyes and let that wash over him. He wanted to argue that no one would give a shit, but Holden knew his clients, knew how things worked in small towns. Even small towns like Sugar, where they can forgive a guy like Jace. Charlotte’s dad was right, there was the potential for fallout, but Jace knew that there was more of a chance of forgiveness.
Carrying out a lie takes time and commitment, and yet it only takes a second for a lie to hurt. Forgiveness, he learned, worked the same way. It took time.
Which was something he was desperately short on.
“If Charlotte was really out of the running you wouldn’t have wasted your evening talking with me,” Jace said, calling the man’s bluff. “So what needs to happen for Charlotte to wake up tomorrow as the newly appointed medical director of the Grow Clinic?”
“Promise me that your secret marriage never surfaces,” her father said. “It wouldn’t just hurt her professional reputation, but it would affect her standing in the community. Especially with the families of the people she has dated since her return.”
Jace polished off his scotch and stood. He meant what he’d said to his brothers, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do if it meant securing Charlotte’s happiness. Even if it meant sacrificing his own.
* * *
It was nearly midnight when Charlotte dragged her aching feet through the front door. The fair was over, the parking lot cleared out, and she had a gallon of mint chip in the freezer. She considered calling in that rain check, then decided she’d rather crawl into bed with Jace and just snuggle.
Only her bed was empty.
Jace had taken off shortly after the cars had been loaded on their trailers. He said he had an errand to run, then he was going home to wait for her. Maybe check another fantasy off his list.
“Jace,” she called out, checking the bathroom. Empty. He wasn’t downstairs, she would have seen him.
She checked the guest room, the downstairs bathroom, and found herself back in her bathroom, checking the shower. “Jace?”