by K. R. Haynes
Walking over to her bedroom closet, Chloe quickly changed into a pair of black hipster jeans and a figure-hugging red blouse then tied her hair back into a low ponytail and fixed up her light makeup. Slipping her feet into a pair of ruby-red ballet flats and grabbing her purse and keys from the hall table, Chloe headed out.
Jumping into her little blue bubble of a car, she pulled out onto the street, her destination the local pub the locals raved about, The Convict Inn. Finding a park not far from the pub’s front entrance and switching the engine off, Chloe sat there for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Stepping out of the car, she locked it up and headed inside.
Hell, it was her birthday after all. She should be out celebrating.
Strolling up to an empty stool at the bar, she took a seat. Ordering a house white from the pretty young redhead behind the bar, Chloe couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. She let her eyes wander around the bar, taking in the scenes around her. No one here seemed to be anyone she knew.
For some dumb reason, Chloe had hoped to run into Officer Randall tonight. She had heard that this pub was a favourite watering hole for the local cops here in town. That’s why she had chosen this one to come to tonight, in the hopes of seeing him in the flesh. No such luck though.
“There you go, sweetie,” the pretty redhead said as she plonked the glass of white wine down in front of her.
“Thank you.” Taking a sip from her glass, Chloe continued her perusal of the pub and its patrons.
“I haven’t seen you in here before. Are you new in town, sweetie?” the pretty redhead said as Chloe paid for her drink.
Turning her attention back to the woman behind the bar, Chloe answered the question aimed at her. “Yes, I’m new to the area.”
The barmaid stuck out her hand then. “Mary J’s the name. It’s a pretty friendly pub we have here. The locals are fairly well behaved, but should you run into any trouble just holler.”
Chloe shook the redhead’s hand with her own and replied politely, “Chloe Watson, and thank you, Mary J. I appreciated it.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Chloe. Sing out when you want another drink.”
“Will do.” Taking another sip of wine, Chloe turned slightly on her stool to peruse the folks gathered around the tables scattered around the bar. A twinge of sadness stabbed at her chest when her eyes fell on all the loving couples swaying their bodies close to each other on the dance floor. Chloe knew that each of those couples dancing out there on the floor tonight wouldn’t notice anyone else around them. Nothing else existed around you when you were in the arms of the one you loved with your whole heart and soul, a feeling Chloe had longed to experience once again.
One day, she thought. One day she, too, would be one of those couples dancing in the embrace of her lover, just not tonight. Chloe was much too single and too alone to be on the dance floor tonight. Even if everything inside her screamed to be one of those couples just for one night, one night only. Chloe knew herself too well to know that one night would never be enough. Not for her. She wanted more than one night wrapped in the arms of her lover. She wanted many nights. What she wanted was forever.
Throwing back the rest of her wine in one gulp, ordering another, and then picking up her glass, she strolled over to the empty booth in the far right corner of the pub. At least here she could hide and not feel like the lone loser she felt like to everyone else here.
Sliding into the booth and raising her glass, Chloe gave herself a short toast. “Here’s to you, precious. Happy birthday.” Then she took a sip of wine.
In the back of her mind she could hear his voice again. Every year on her birthday for as long as she could remember, she would hear him…His husky, masculine voice would whisper his heartfelt message to her. “My precious one, my only one.” She ached to hear more from him, but there were never any more words. Tears stung her eyes upon hearing those same words again tonight.
Closing her eyes, Chloe tried in vain to hold on to his voice, treasuring it like the gift it was to her. She wished she could remember who called her “his precious one, his only one.” She ached with such intensity to be his “only one” once again. A dream, a foolish dream she knew may never come true. Opening her eyes, swiping at the moisture gathering there, Chloe turned her attention back to the lovers dancing and swaying to the rhythm of the music. She shouldn’t be jealous of what those couples had, even if they represented everything she had ever yearned for.
It’s been too long, the voice of reason whispered in her head. It’s time to get on with life and move past the disappointment from past relationships.
For whatever reason her past relationships had never truly satisfied her enough. Something had been lacking in them. Something amiss even. What it was, she had no clue. It was definitely something though. One day, she would find her answers to those questions. For tonight is for her birthday, and not for assessing the relationships she had had in the past.
Sighing, Chloe picked up her wine and cradled it closed to her chest. Eyeing once again the dancing couples, she silently wished them all well in their journey to their own happily ever after.
Chapter Eight
Knock-off time and about bloody time, too, Randall thought. It had been one hell of a day. Randall couldn’t recall a day where he had issued so many fines while being out on patrol. It had taken him a good couple of hours to write up all the reports on the arrests made and the fines he issued. Now walking out the front door of the station at eleven pm at night, the last thing he felt like doing was going home to a cold, empty bed again.
Pulling away from the station, Randall headed for the pub instead. Mick had called him earlier in the evening saying he was going to try and head down to the pub at some stage tonight. Probably because he knew Mary J was on tonight. Randall shook his head. Mick had no idea how obvious his infatuation for the sassy redhead was.
Who was he to judge? Randall had his own infatuation with a certain woman with long, flowing, caramel locks. Hazel eyes that said so much about the woman behind them. A luscious body with just the right amount of curves in all the best places on a woman. And creamy ivory skin that cried out to feel the heated touch of his hand on her bare flesh.
Now who had the obvious obsession for a woman, he sniggered to himself while pulling into the parking lot at the pub. Locking his truck up, Randall scanned the parking lot for Mick’s big arse of a truck. He couldn’t see it parked anywhere close by. Shrugging his shoulders, Randall made his way inside.
Hitting up Mary J for a beer, Randall leaned against the bar and watched the people milling around him. A blonde chick, who sat further up the bar, raised her glass in his direction. Randall had no interest in picking up a bed warmer tonight. So when the blonde didn’t take the hint he gave her that he wasn’t interested, she made her way over to him anyway. He sighed loudly. Great, now he had to warn her off of him.
“Hey, stud, how you doing tonight? Want some company?” the blonde chick asked him.
“Nuh, I’m good, but thanks for the offer, sweetheart,” Randall said to her then turned his back on her. The blonde huffed and walked away from him.
Lifting his beer to his lips and taking a long swig of the cooling amber liquid, his eyes happened to fall upon a sexy woman sitting alone at the booth in the far right corner of the bar. Everything inside of him went on full alert. Fuck, it wasn’t just some woman, it was his woman—Chloe. What the hell she doing here by herself? Shaking his head, Randall downed the rest of his beer then ordered another one before making his way through the Saturday-night crowd to get to her.
* * * *
Chloe was in a bit of a daze. The wine she had been sipping had mellowed her out, taking away the ache of loneliness she had been feeling all night long and replacing it with a warm buzzing feeling. Shit, she was probably a bit tipsy, after downing nearly two glasses of wine here and one at home, too.
Over the past hour or so the crowd had built up in the pub. The live
band revved up all the patrons. Beer flowed. So did the ever-present suitors trying to persuade her onto the dance floor. She declined all of them, of course. The only person Chloe wanted to waltz around the dance floor with was Randall. Jon Randall.
Sensing another dancing suitor approaching from the left, Chloe placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. When the wannabe suitor was standing near her table, Chloe grumbled out to him that she was not interested in dancing with him and to leave her the hell alone. She didn’t even bother to look up at him either as she spoke. So when she heard the rumble of his laughter, she raised her glare up at the man laughing at her.
She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to laugh at her fiery words. She glared at him in silence when recognition finally dawned on her on who was standing there laughing at her. Jon Randall. Chloe swore her cheeks must have turned the brightest shade of red ever. Damn the man and his impeccable timing.
He pointed to the empty seat across from hers and said to her, “What a pleasant surprise to see you here tonight, Chloe. May I join you?”
“If you must,” she muttered, lowering her eyes from his.
Hearing him chuckle at her as he slid into the seat across from her had Chloe cursing him under her breath.
His voice stroked over her overwrought nerves as he asked her, “So what brings you here to this fine establishment of ours tonight?”
Shrugging her shoulders, her fingers entwined around the stem of her wine glass. “Just had a need to get out of the house is all. What’s your reason?”
Randall just raised an eyebrow at her question while answering her. “Mine? Well, I just finished my shift at the station and didn’t feel like heading home to a big ole empty house.”
She snorted at his answer while her eyes did a quick perusal of his gorgeous body. She had to admit he was looking mighty fine tonight. He took a good long swig of his beer while keeping his eyes on hers. Chloe knew the moment Randall picked up on her despondent demeanour when he frowned at her.
He placed his beer back down and stared across the table at her in silence. Chloe broke their eye connection and darted her gaze back over to the lovers dancing on the dance floor nearby them.
Before she could react, Randall slid out of the booth and pulled her to her feet and tugged her onto the dance floor with him. Of course he found the darkest and most intimate spot for them to dance in. He drew her up close to his taut frame. The scent of his cologne made her resistance to him weak at best. There was no possible way to resist him. He surrounded her completely with his presence. Before she could think about all the reasons why she shouldn’t, Chloe found herself melting against his body.
She needed this. She needed his strength as hers was failing her big time tonight. Had he sensed it? Is that the reason why he wanted to dance with her, so he could offer up his strength and his comfort to her? If it was she appreciated his unspoken gesture. Chloe knew she was not herself tonight. Her birthdays always did this to her, always made her feel like she was celebrating a loss rather than celebrating her birth. It had been this way ever since she lost those missing six months of her memory back when she was sixteen years old.
She was beginning to wonder if she would ever find happiness in her birth again.
Neither she nor Randall said a word as they swayed their bodies together to their own rhythm of music. Gradually she wrapped her arms low around his waist and laid her head against his chest. He held her, just held her and moved them both to the rhythm of the music. Eventually, Randall rested his chin on top of her head while weaving a hand into the hair at her nape and held her closer to him. Closing her eyes briefly, Chloe took a moment to absorb his strength and the scent of him into her soul. If she had to describe this one moment to someone, she would tell them it was like being in heaven. That’s what it felt like to her, being in his embrace as he guided her around the dance floor.
It felt so right being in his arms and dancing with him. Nothing else mattered to her. Nothing else existed outside his strong embrace. She felt safe here in his arms, and it was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. He made her feel protected, and she needed his protection, especially with a sick bastard constantly leaving threatening messages to kill her.
The brush of his erection against the softness of her belly caused a soft moan to fall from her lips. And for the first time tonight, Chloe smiled. She actually smiled.
Chapter Nine
Randall still had no idea why Chloe had seemed so down when he found her seated at the booth by herself. It was a topic that he wanted to address with her after ushering her away from the dance floor and back to their table. Sliding into the booth and picking up his beer, he took a quick swig before placing the bottle back down. Glancing up at Chloe, who stood near the table, concern for her washed over him. Something was up with her tonight. He just didn’t know what yet.
Taking her hand, he tried in vain to guide her to sit down. Chloe released her hand from his grasp and crossed both arms over her chest.
“Answer me this one question then, Chloe. Why are you really here tonight, alone?”
What happened next bewildered him. Randall felt like he was watching her in slow motion, as she leaned over the table and grabbed her purse and keys. When she turned to him, he saw the sadness in her eyes. Her sadness struck him hard in the chest.
“It was my birthday, Jon,” she offered quietly to him, a hint of hurt lingering in her words. Then she turned and walked away, leaving him dumbfounded, staring after her as she disappeared into the crowd.
“Fuck, it was her birthday!”
How the hell did he not remember her birthday today? The 27th in the month of May, the one date he could never forget. And here he was, staring at the vacant chair Chloe had once occupied. Now she was gone. “Fuck.”
Randall remembered then the words he had once whispered to Chloe on her sixteenth birthday. Words he was determined to say to her again. His heartfelt message he had given only to her. No other woman had ever heard those same words, and they never would.
Randall made a promise then, that when the time was right he would convey his heartfelt message to his Chloe once again.
Scrubbing a hand through his hair and down his face, he realised then he still had no idea where Chloe lived or how to get ahold of her. Leaving his half-empty beer on the table, Randall headed out of the pub and drove back to the station.
He parked his arse behind his desk and turned the computer on. It was about bloody time he found out where Chloe Watson lived. It might be too late to go around and see her tonight. But tomorrow morning she was going to receive one hell of an early wakeup call from him, whether she wanted one or not.
* * * *
Shuffling her way into the kitchen and then turning the coffee machine on, Chloe stared out the window above the kitchen sink. It was just after dawn. The sun was slowly rising behind the hills in the distance, dusting the sky with shades of pinks and oranges. Normally dawn was her favourite time of day. Chloe loved watching the sun rise. She marvelled at the way the colours splashed across the sky. Today, though, it didn’t give her the same feeling it usually left her with, one of warmth and beauty.
No, after a restless night’s sleep, Chloe felt chilled to the bone and empty inside.
Wrapping her silk robe around her tighter and turning away from the window, she stared across the kitchen at the print she had framed on the wall. One she had received on her sixteenth birthday, she knew that much. She had no memory of who gave it to her though. What she did know was it was given to her from someone who had once loved her.
The print itself was an abstract. It seemed to represent the depth and the power of their love they held for her. Plus the inscription on the back of the print gave a clear indication of their said love. The artist who painted the original clearly had had love on their mind when they painted it as well. The artist’s own passion and love were clearly visible in the colours used in the painting and within the image itself.<
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Staring at the print now, Chloe still struggled to come to terms with her disappointment from last night. It was the main reason for her lack of sleep. She couldn’t believe that she had told Randall about her birthday last night. Or why she felt disappointed when he didn’t realise that it was in actual fact her birthday. For some odd reason, Chloe had half excepted Randall to know what the 27th of May meant to her. Seeing the look of surprise cross his face when she told him her reasons for being down at the pub, Chloe realised then she had made a horrible assumption and all but bolted to her car.
She couldn’t even explain the tears that fell from her eyes on the drive back home. Or the crushing feeling she felt in her chest. She didn’t know Jon Randall, didn’t know his story. Yet Chloe felt like she had known him. She felt this pull to him. Like their souls were linked to each other or something. Or hell, maybe that’s just the lack of sleep talking. Who knows why one feels anything for another?
Hearing a loud, obnoxious knock on her front door startled her from her thoughts. Setting down her favourite coffee mug on the bench beside the coffee machine, Chloe glanced at the clock. Six thirty in the morning. Who the hell would be bothering her at this time of day? Hell, she still had her pyjamas on and had fluffy, pink rabbit slippers adorning her feet for Christ’s sake. She was so not dressed for company right now.
She unlocked the front door and swung it wide open. She was instantly shocked at who stood on the other side of the door. Jon Randall. He stood on her front porch with her morning paper in his hand and a big, stupid grin on his face. His eyes roamed freely over her body, taking in her outfit. Tugging her silk robe closer to her body and stepping back to partially close the door, Chloe stood behind it so only her shoulders and head were visible to him.