by Petrova, Em
He nodded, and the corners of his mouth moved up into a small smile. She glanced down at the duffel bag in his hand, small enough for carry-on, and then looked back up into his eyes.
“But you hardly have anything with you,” she said.
“Would it be too much if I told you that you’re all I need on this trip?” he said with a mischievous smile.
“I don’t know,” said Caroline. “Give it a try.”
Niklas’s face was serious now, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with real emotion.
“Caroline, all I need on this trip is you.”
She slid her hand slowly up his arms and then down his chest. This time, reality was truly better than the best her imagination had come up with.
“No,” she whispered, “It wasn’t too much.”
“Good,” he said, with a laugh. “Besides, you didn’t give me much time to pack. And I wasted most of my packing time trying to decide whether or not to go through with this crazy plan. I didn’t think I’d make this flight, and then I would have been stuck trying to hunt you down in Italy.”
Caroline laughed, too.
“Okay, but what I meant was how long are you planning to stay?” she asked. “Don’t you have to be back in a few days for… something?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Nope. We lost to Switzerland, so we’re out of the tournament, remember?”
“Right,” she said, swallowing, “but what happens after Italy?”
“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” he said softly.
“You’ll get bored.”
He moved his hands around her waist and pulled her closer again.
“I doubt that,” he said in a low voice that made her blush. Then he smiled. “And you still haven’t shown me how my camera works. I figure you can teach me a little about photography, if you’re willing.”
Caroline gave an exasperated sigh and said, “But sometime you’ll have to leave me. Sometime you’ll have to get back to your life, and then what happens?”
“Oh, Caroline,” he said, hugging her into his chest tight enough to take her breath away. “Yes, it’s true. I can’t follow you forever. Practice starts in September, and games start a while after that. But we’ll figure it out when we get there.”
He released her a little and kissed the top of her head.
“You’re the same woman who is flying to Italy without a place to stay, without any plans further than the plane ride. You’re doing this because you trust it will work out, one way or another, right?”
Caroline nodded slowly. Niklas cupped her chin and raised her head so her eyes met his.
“Can’t we trust that we’ll work this out, too? I’m willing to take that gamble if there’s a chance we’ll be together.”
He gave her another soft, lingering kiss.
“I was willing to risk rejection in front of the whole Stockholm airport,” he said seriously. “And I’m ready to risk whatever else I need to be with you.”
His deep blue eyes held onto hers, and she couldn’t look away. He was offering her more than she had dared to hope for. Caroline bit her lip and took a deep breath.
“I want this to work out so badly,” she said in a shaky voice. “But it feels too good to be true.”
“You might not feel that way after a few weeks with me,” he said with a wry smile. “I’m not always the easiest person to be around, remember? And with all those Italian men staring at you on the beach…”
She buried her head into his chest and laughed, letting the warmth of his body fill her again. He lifted her mouth to his and brushed his lips against hers one more time. Then he took her hand.
“Are we ready now?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, and this time she really meant it.
THE END
Dear Reader,
Thanks so much for following Caroline and Niklas as they try to figure out how to have a future together. Their adventure together is just getting started; Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 follows the next stage of their relationship. I lived in Stockholm for three years, and I loved writing about the city from an outsider’s perspective. Will they make it back to Sweden together? Peek inside their next book to see where they land!
Interested in news, sneak peeks and free stories, including the novelette “Niklas in Italy”? Sign up on my website: www.rebeccahunterwriter.com. And please write me with any questions or comments at [email protected].
CHANGE OF ADDRESS
Natalie Nicole-Bates
Chapter One
Weeds grown wild in the front yard, front steps crumbled, and paint peeled off the walls, but for the very first time in her life, Josselyn Adler was home.
After struggling with the stubbornly stuck front door, it suddenly give way, flinging her backward, almost causing her to tumble down the three concrete steps in a sad state of disrepair. Once she regained her footing, a blast of superheated, stale air greeted her. Never mind. I’m home.
She stepped across the threshold into a large, open living room. The green and gold plaid furniture, which might have once been fashionable, was plain ugly, like something you hid away in a basement. The furnishings would do until she replaced them with new to suit her own taste.
The wallpaper, a long-outdated floral pattern, had yellowed and curled with age. The carpet, once tan, was stained and worn. Still, even with all its faults, her home was beautiful.
The two-story house at 22 Little Pine Road was the largest on the residential street. In the past it may have been the grandest, as well. Once proud-standing, the house had gone from a family home to a rental, and over the last few years, completely abandoned.
She loved it already. With some time and hard work, restoring the old house to its former glory would be a pleasure. June gave her time to get the house into reasonable shape before the cold winter set in.
The hardwood staircase creaked beneath her sandaled feet, yet seemed strong. To the right at the top of the stairs was the master bedroom. The bed with its intricately cut oak headboard had a basic bare mattress and box springs. A matching dresser, armoire, and bedside table completed the suite. Thick dust covered every inch of the furniture, but the wood would polish up nicely. A few metal hangers hung in an otherwise empty double-sized closet.
With the eerie silence in her new home, a sudden, claustrophobic feeling consumed her. She threw open the picture window and inhaled the warm June air filled with the sweet smell of freshly mown grass.
A wave of sadness enveloped her as she gazed into the amber sky and remembered Morgan. He was the reason she owned a home of her own. Thank you, Morgan. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.
Josselyn took a notebook and pen from her handbag and began to jot down a few items she needed to pick up from the twenty-four-hour Quality-Mart she passed before arriving at the house.
The bathroom had an old peach-colored suite and a chipped linoleum floor. When she turned on the sink taps, the water sputtered before shooting out a stream of rusty brown color. She added bottled water to her growing list.
Down the hallway was a second bedroom sparsely furnished with a bed and dresser. Further down, a small, empty third bedroom with pink walls adorned with appliquéd teddy bears, had perhaps once been a nursery.
She walked down the stairs consumed with the list of immediate necessities. First and foremost was to make the trip to the Quality-Mart to buy supplies to clean the bedroom so she could get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow she could tackle the remainder of the house. She wanted the house clean before she unloaded the few personal belongings and clothes packed in her car.
When she arrived at the foot of the stairs, the front door rattled. Fear, cold and stark, rose up in her throat and choked her as she heard the lock snap and watched, rooted to the floor, the creaky old door jiggle in its frame. The anticipation mingled with fright, produced a potent, sick feeling that churned inside her like the bad horror movie she’d recently viewed on late-night television.
After what seemed an eternity, the door flung open. The first thought entering her brain was a ghost had entered her home. A younger, blonder visage of Morgan stood in the threshold. Before she could utter his name, a second, more coherent thought followed; a ghost wouldn’t use a key.
The man in the doorway took one step inside and stopped abruptly, clenched his jaw, and stared. The familiar stranger invading her new home could only be one person.
“My goodness, you’re Ben! You’re Morgan’s son!” she exclaimed.
“Well, we know who I am. Now who the hell are you, and why are you trespassing in my house?”
“Your house?” she asked with disbelief. “This is my home. Morgan gave it to me!”
“I don’t know who you are, lady, but I suggest you get a move on it. I’ll give you five minutes before I call the police.” He pointed to his platinum-cased wristwatch for emphasis.
“Don’t bother waiting.” She reached into her handbag and removed her cell phone. With shaking fingers, she punched in 911.
The line connected after the second ring. “911, what is your emergency?” asked the female dispatcher.
“My name is Josselyn Adler. I’m the new owner of 22 Little Pine Road. A man has let himself into my home and is now threatening me.” Although she was quaking on the inside, she strove to keep her voice and demeanor strong and confident.
“I have an officer on the way, Ms. Adler. Would you like to stay on the line with me until he arrives?” she offered.
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine,” she assured her.
As she disconnected her phone, Ben’s gaze burned into her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing any fear. While growing up, she had dealt with her share of tormentors. One forty-year-old, blond-haired bully was not going to intimidate her or drive her from a home that was rightfully hers.
“Very nice performance,” he said snidely.
“Excuse me?” She furrowed her brow and made eye contact. Ben Parnell had his father’s glacial, blue eyes.
“Any moment one of Unity’s finest will be arriving to play knight in shining armor and save the poor maiden from the big, bad wolf.”
Before she could utter a word in reply, a black patrol car came to a screeching halt on the street. An officer threw open the car door and made long, quick strides to the house. His uniform and Unity Police Department baseball cap matched the color of his car.
A lump formed in her throat. As she was growing up, a police car in front of the house and an officer at the door meant her father was in some sort of trouble yet again.
“Good evening, Miss. I’m Officer Smith.” He looked to Ben. “It’s certainly been a long time since you’ve been around, Ben.” Not waiting for an answer from him, he turned his attention back to Josselyn. “What seems to be the problem tonight?”
He knew Ben by his first name. They looked to be about the same age, and in this small town, it was likely they knew each other growing up. Although Officer Smith seemed friendly enough, would he side with the hometown boy rather than with the stranger girl?
“This is my house. Morgan Parnell left it to me in his will. Now he...” She paused and pointed at Ben. “He thinks it’s his house.”
“I have a will, too,” Ben loudly interrupted. “And mine is legitimate!”
His deep voice vibrated through her, causing her head to ache. Flustered, she pulled an envelope from her handbag. Morgan’s attorney gave to her a copy of the will a few days earlier. She handed it to Officer Smith. To her dismay, Ben also produced a document from a briefcase.
This is very bad.
She hoped Ben had been bluffing.
Officer Smith read through both sets of documents and shook his head. “Each of you has a separate will leaving you this house. Both wills are signed by Morgan Parnell and identically dated, using two different attorneys.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she stubbornly blinked them back. She would not let Ben Parnell see her cry.
The officer sighed and shook his head. “Both of these wills look authentic, but I’m not an attorney, and this is a civil matter. I can’t throw either of you out of this house tonight. So one of you can leave willingly, or you’re going to have to try to get along and not kill each other until you can get this mess sorted out.”
She couldn’t believe what she heard. Well, she certainly wasn’t leaving, and to think she and Ben Parnell could live under the same roof until lawyers and courts decided the rightful owner of the house was ludicrous. Courts might take months to sort out this mess, and worse, she might lose her new home.
Ben snatched his copy of the will from the officer’s hand, stormed out of the living room, and stomped up the stairs; each step creaked in protest beneath his feet.
“Don’t worry, Miss, I’m sure it’s just a paperwork snafu. Things like this happen all of the time.”
Not quite sure she believed him, she did appreciate his kindness and the fact he hadn’t immediately sided with the hometown boy.
She extended her hand. “My name is Josselyn.”
“I’m Caleb, Caleb Smith. If Ben Parnell even looks at you wrong tonight, don’t hesitate to call, and I’ll come back.”
She thanked him before walking him to the door and watched him pull away in his patrol car. Closing the front door, she considered her situation. Being Friday evening, she wouldn’t be able to call the attorney’s office in Miami until Monday morning. Meanwhile, a very angry man was sulking somewhere upstairs. She flopped onto the plaid sofa.
How did this disaster happen? Morgan hadn’t been senile at any time during his illness, and in the time she had known him, he and Ben never spoke to each other. Ben hadn’t even bothered to attend his father’s funeral a week earlier.
Morgan told her a lot of bad feelings developed between him and his son after he divorced Ben’s mother. Morgan subsequently sold his medical practice and relocated from Unity to Miami. Something else as well had divided father and son; she didn’t know what, but she could sense it from the way Morgan spoke.
Even with the hard feelings between them, Morgan remained proud of his only son. Ben had followed in his footsteps to become a doctor, and had recently run into legal issues which almost led to the loss of his medical license. Morgan’s belief in him never faltered.
When it became painfully obvious Morgan hadn’t long to live, he desperately tried to reconnect with his son. He never got beyond Ben’s answering machine. How dare Ben walk into this house and assume it belonged to him? Well, he did have a will.
At thirty-four, Josselyn had looked to Unity as a new beginning. A place to start fresh and make a home, with the possibility of new friends and, just maybe, a family wouldn’t be so far ahead.
All her life, she had to fight for any little piece of happiness. Just when it seemed things were going right, something always stepped in and squashed everything. Even though Morgan had been seriously ill for a long time, his death came as the latest shattering blow.
Sitting in the living room waiting for a change that was not going to happen made no sense. She would make the trip to the Quality-Mart and get the things she needed. Maybe a bit of distance between her and Ben might diffuse some of his anger, as well.
Within an hour, she was back at the house, juggling several bags in her arms. She turned the key and heard the lock snap open, but the door wouldn’t budge.
With a deep sigh, she set her bags on the step and struggled to pull the door open. To her dismay, she realized the door wasn’t stuck. The doorknob had a second lock for which she had no key. Ben had taken the opportunity to lock her out of the house!
At first, she tried to knock. Perhaps it was an honest mistake, but she doubted it. As her fury grew, her fist pounded in time with her pounding heart. Finally, she gave up, sat down on the crumbling steps, dialed 911, and requested Officer Smith’s return.
She didn’t have to wait for long until the police cruiser once again pulled up in front of the house. The events w
ere so not the way she envisioned her first night in her new home. What would her neighbor’s think of her, twice having a police presence at her house on the evening of her arrival? She wanted to become a part of this neighborhood and be warmly accepted, not be the latest fodder for gossip.
“Thank you for returning. I’m so sorry to bother you again tonight.” No longer could she disguise the defeat in her voice.
He walked up the steps. “What’s going on this time?”
“I’m locked out. I know Ben is angry, but I didn’t think he would be so mean.”
Caleb helped her to her feet. He removed a flashlight from his belt and used the butt end to knock on the door, to no response.
“He has to be inside. His car is still here.” She gestured toward the sleek, silver Corvette parked at the curbside.
“There’s more than one way to get him out.” He turned on his heels and walked back to his patrol car. Caleb reached in through the open driver’s side window and flipped the switch for the siren. The hideous wail blared into the darkness.
All around her, doors opened and heads poked out of windows.
Walking back to the steps, he leaned close to her ear and said, “Just watch now.”
A few minutes later, the front door flew open. Ben stood in the doorway with his eyes burning pure blue fire. “Now what the hell do you want?”
Caleb went back to the patrol car and switched off the siren. “Why did you lock this lovely young lady out of the house?”
Ben’s shoulders stiffened. “She left. I assumed she gained some sense and gone to a hotel or somewhere for the night.”
Josselyn couldn’t believe Ben’s feeble excuse. “You knew very well I didn’t abandon my house!”
“That it’s your house is a fact in dispute,” he retorted.
“Make this the last time I have to drive out here tonight, Ben. If you even think about locking her out or terrorizing her, I’ll be locking you up. Am I clear?” Caleb asked.