The Playboy (2 page)

“The usual kind.” No point in telling Chase the school teacher was into S&M with her scrambled eggs now. She was probably embarrassed enough and Rick wasn’t the type to kiss and tell. Chase had taught him to respect women whether they’d earned it or not. “Unfounded noises outside.” He shrugged. “The place was secure.”

“Probably just an animal of some kind.”

Rick nodded. “Did she seem keyed up to you?”

Chase shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

“Speaking of dinner—” Chase rose from his seat.

“I didn’t.”

“Well I am. You ready to head over to Mom’s?” Rick’s stomach grumbled, reminding him he was just as hungry as his brother.

“Sounds like a good plan to me. Let’s go.”

“Rick, wait.” Felicia, the on-call dispatcher, walked into the room. “There’s a woman in a vehicle stopped on Route 10 leading into town. Phillips came in late. Can you handle it while he’s briefed for his shift?”

Rick nodded. “Why not?” It would delay dealing with his mother and her pointed questions about his social life. He turned to his brother. “Tell Mom I’m sorry and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“I won’t mention that smirk on your face or the relief you’re obviously feeling at being given a reprieve. But if she’s got a woman there waiting, you’re going to pay,” Chase said.

Felicia strode up to Chase, confident and feminine even in her blue uniform. “I get off in five minutes. Take me with you to your mother’s and I’ll save you from her matchmaking clutches.” She batted her lashes over her hazel eyes.

Rick watched, amused. Felicia had a good heart and an even better body, all rounded curves and femininity beneath her clothes. A blind man couldn’t miss the fact that she was a knockout.

“So what do you say?” she asked Chase.

He grinned and lay an arm around Felicia’s shoulders, his fingers dangling precariously close to those curves Rick had noticed before.

“Now you know I can’t take you home with me, sweetheart. Tongues would be wagging and by tomorrow we’d be front page of
The Gazette,
” Chase said, speaking of his newspaper.

Felicia let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re right. One night with the oldest Chandler and my reputation would be ruined.” She lay a hand on her forehead in an obviously dramatic gesture. “What was I thinking?” She laughed, then stood up straight, smoothing her blouse. “Besides, I have a date. We’d better let Rick get to that stranded car,” Felicia said. “See you around, Chase.”

“See you,” he said, then turned to Rick. “And you’d better hightail it over to Mom’s as soon as you can.”

Rick shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Mom considers home neutral territory. She wouldn’t set you up while she’s around to suffer the consequences.” He grabbed for his car keys.

“Where Mom’s concerned, I wouldn’t get too complacent,” Chase warned.

Rick acknowledged his brother had a damned good point when ten minutes later he realized he was on his way to another emergency call to rescue yet another damsel in distress. Based on prior experience, Rick had his doubts this was a routine stop, but rather a mother-initiated setup.

Despite the annoyance building inside him, he had to admit this time he was disappointed in the lack of creativity. Until now, the predicaments had been fresh innovative ways to get Officer Rick Chandler’s attention. Running out of gas, if that’s what had happened, ranked way down on the originality scale.

He drove to the outskirts of town and walked to where the driver of the fire-engine-red car awaited help. As he neared, he caught sight of frilly white lace that couldn’t be anything other than a wedding veil dangling over the door. He rolled his eyes heavenward. First a dominatrix and now a bride. The dress backed up his suspicion that he was probably in for a setup. Brides didn’t just happen through Yorkshire Falls and there was no wedding scheduled in town today. The nearest costume shop was located in Harrington, the next town over, and Rick wouldn’t be surprised if this woman had stopped there first.

Apparently she had more creativity than he’d given her credit for, but she hadn’t done her research. Rick Chandler loved rescuing women but a bride of any kind rated last on his list. Last time he’d responded to a similar S.O.S., he’d been home from college and on the force about two years. One of his best friends and a girl he’d had deep feelings for, Jillian Frank, had dropped out of college because she’d gotten pregnant and her parents had thrown her out of the house. Rick had stepped in without thinking twice. He had those damn Chandler genes. Loyalty ran strong, the need to protect even stronger.

He’d started by giving Jillian a place to live but ended up marrying her too. He’d planned to give the baby a name and he’d provided Jillian with a home. He thought they’d be a family. Considering he’d always been attracted to her before she went away to school, doing a good deed for a friend hadn’t been too much of a hardship.

Falling in love had been a natural progression—for him. As they’d lived together during her pregnancy, he’d let down his guard and given his heart—only to have it trampled when the baby’s father returned a few weeks prior to her due date. His once-grateful wife walked out, leaving Rick with divorce papers and wiser for the experience.

He’d decided then, he’d never again lose his heart, but he’d definitely have fun and enjoy his life. After all, he was a man who liked women. His brief marriage hadn’t changed that. Short of taking out a billboard to announce his intent to never wed again, he’d always made his feelings to the women he got involved with perfectly clear. This so-called bride might as well proposition a brick wall for all the response she’d get from Rick Chandler.

One hand on his gun, the other on the open window, he leaned down. “Can I help you, miss?”

The woman turned to face him. She had a unique shade of red hair and the hugest green eyes he’d ever seen. Maybe at one time her makeup had been bridal perfect but tears had smudged the mascara and streaked her blush.

Something about her rang familiar, but Rick couldn’t say what. In a small town, he recognized most people, but every once in a while someone surprised him. “I take it you’re having car problems?”

She nodded and sucked in a deep breath of air. “I don’t suppose you can tow me?” Her husky voice sounded like she’d just taken a sip of warm brandy.

The desire to drink from her lips and see for himself took him off guard. Not only had he thought he’d steeled himself against this woman’s charms, but he hadn’t responded to any woman or seduction attempt since his mother’s marriage push had begun. Yet faced with this so-called blushing bride, he started to sweat, the heat internal and not caused by the blazing summer sun.

He glanced at her warily. “I can’t tow you myself but I can call Ralph’s and he can send his truck over.” He focused on her car problem and not her delicious-looking mouth.

“Do you think you can help me out of here first?” She extended her ringless hand. “I’d get out myself but I think I’m stuck.” Material rustled as she tried to maneuver out of the car.

He still wasn’t sure whether he had a real woman in distress and he weighed the odds. A bride minus an engagement or wedding ring didn’t tip things in favor of a routine stop.

None of which mattered. She had to get out of the damn car. He opened the door, then extended his hand. As she placed her smaller fingers into his grip, a jolt shook him hard. He couldn’t name the sensation, but when those shocked, vivid green eyes bore into his, he knew she felt it too.

Shaking off the unnerving feeling, he pulled her toward him. She clasped his hand tighter but when she pushed up, she teetered forward, falling into his waiting arms. Her full breasts smashed against his chest, her sweet fragrance enveloped him in sizzling awareness, and his heart picked up a fast and furious rhythm.

“Darn high heels,” she muttered in his ear.

He couldn’t help but grin. “I’m a leg man myself.” She grabbed hold of his shoulders and stood up straight. Though she now stood far enough away for him to think more clearly, her scent was emblazoned on his memory—a fragrance made more pure by the fluffy white dress and tiara perched on the side of her head.

“Thank you for your help, Officer.” She smiled and he realized she had dimples on either side of that mouth.

“You’re welcome,” he said, but he lied. He wished he’d never answered her S.O.S.

Rick had been exposed to many females in his lifetime and none had ever shaken him this badly. What he didn’t understand was why
this
woman?

He let his gaze slide over her body in an attempt to figure out her allure. Okay, so her breasts pushed up enticingly beneath the fitted material of her dress. Big deal. He’d seen breasts before. Heck, all the women who’d tried to seduce him lately had made sure theirs were prominently on display, but none made him want to chuck all rational thought and drag the woman in question into the neighboring woods and make love until the sun went down—con-artist status be damned.

Rick’s body shook in reaction to the mere thought and he forced himself to continue his perusal of her many assets. He took in her luscious mouth next. Her lips were coated with clear gloss and set in a naturally full pout that shouted kiss me. And he’d already confessed his weakness in wanting to.

Chemistry was obviously working overtime and he had to admit she was damned attractive bait for a woman his mother had sent.
If
his mother had sent her. Had Raina run out of women in town and decided to import one instead? Maybe that was his explanation. Perhaps it was the fact that she was new to town, new to him, that intrigued him, setup or not.

“What’s wrong?” She crinkled her nose. “You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen a woman in a wedding dress before.”

“It’s something I’ve tried to avoid.”

She grinned. “Confirmed bachelor, huh?”

Unwilling to touch that statement, he decided it was time to find out the truth. “Need me to get you to the church on time?” he asked, acting like the cop he was and not the man she’d aroused.

She swallowed. “No church, no wedding.”

So if she had been a bride, she wasn’t now. In fact she’d probably left some poor schmuck sitting at the church waiting for her to show. “No wedding, huh? Now there’s a shock. Is the groom still at the altar?”

Kendall Sutton met the hazel-eyed gaze of the sexy officer staring her down. She’d never seen a man with such thick lashes or beautiful eyes. Or more skeptical ones.

The man standing beside her obviously thought she’d bolted minutes before saying “I do,” and he wasn’t impressed with her character. Not at all. She should be offended. Instead she was curious about this cynical streak he possessed. What would make such a good-looking man view women through jaded eyes? She didn’t know but for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t want him to view her the same negative way.

She blinked into the glare of the afternoon sun, remembering how she’d ended up stranded here, when just hours earlier she’d stood in the bridal room of the church where she’d planned to get married. She’d attempted to convince herself that the waist of the dress was too tight and the fitted material cut off her oxygen supply. When that lie didn’t work, she tried to make herself believe she’d breathe just fine once nerves passed and she said “I do.” She’d been lying.

Her impending marriage had been suffocating her. Clear, fresh air came easily once she and Brian had broken their engagement on their wedding day, but not either one of their hearts. She glanced at the policeman awaiting answers.

She didn’t need to get long-winded with her reluctant savior, but she wanted to explain. “My fiancé and I amicably parted ways.” She chose the most positive aspects of the morning, hoping he’d see she hadn’t abandoned anyone or broken any vows.

“Of course you did,” He ran a hand through his dark chocolate hair.

The long strands fell over his forehead in a manner way too sexy for her peace of mind.

“So why the tears?” he asked.

She swiped at the moisture dampening her gaze. “They’re from the sun.”

“Really?” He narrowed his gaze and studied her. “Then why the dried makeup stains?”

Observant, intelligent, and sexy. A potent combination, Kendall thought. He saw beneath the surface and she shivered despite the heat.

She sighed. “Okay, you caught me being a stereotypical female. I had a crying spell earlier.” And she still didn’t know if it was a delayed reaction to her aunt’s recent death or pure relief she hadn’t ended up trapped in marriage, or both. Either way, filled with relief, she’d jumped into her car and driven away. “I’m impulsive.” She laughed.

He didn’t.

Kendall knew she should have waited, then pulled herself together and headed west. Sedona, Arizona, was her dream, the place where she hoped to hone her craft and learn even more about creating jewelry designs. But while still in pain over her aunt’s death, she’d been drawn to Yorkshire Falls, her aunt’s old house and the memories there. The practical fact that she could settle her aunt’s estate was a plus, not a well-thought-out plan. She still should have gone home to change before hitting the road.

When the officer remained silent, Kendall’s mouth went into overdrive, nerves compelling her to talk while he scrutinized her. “My aunt always said impulse won’t get you further than the next bus stop. Prophetic, huh?” She took in her situation—stranded in a wedding dress, no clothes other than honeymoon attire in the trunk, and little money in her pocket, headed to her deceased aunt’s house.

“Your aunt sounds like a smart woman,” he said at last.

“She is. I mean she was.” Kendall swallowed over the lump in her throat. Aunt Crystal had died a few weeks ago, in the nursing home Kendall had almost given up her freedom to pay for. Not that her aunt had asked Kendall for anything. She’d given willingly. There were only two people on this earth Kendall would do anything for—her aunt and her fourteen-year-old sister. Over the years Kendall had gone from resenting her sibling to loving her. Once Kendall finished with Crystal’s house and things, she’d visit with Hannah at school before moving west.