Beyond Reach
Beyond Reach
Tressie Lockwood
Beyond Reach
Copyright © September 2020, Tressie Lockwood
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Cover art photos:
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No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
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This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Contents
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Also by Tressie Lockwood
For Hire Series
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Liar For Hire
Shifter For Hire
Mate For Hire
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Shona and Neena
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Planning His Wedding
The Bribe and the Baby
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The Sartoris
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Accepting His Name
Raising His Baby
Reaching His Heart
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Single Title CLEAN Works
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No Way Forward
Involuntary Daddy
Matching Tony
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tressielockwood.blogspot.com
Chapter 1
“Chanda, hey, girl. It’s been too long,” Marcella gushed. “How have you been?”
Chanda took a moment to gather her thoughts and to stem the memories that flooded her mind. She didn’t relish hearing her cousin’s voice. Not that anything went down between them. It was just that Marcella was home—family. To have all that emotion hit her in the face was too much.
“I’m good,” Chanda breathed. “What about you?”
She didn’t really want to go into how her cousin was doing. Marcella could be too blunt sometimes.
“I’m doing great!” Marcella gushed. “Remember when I emailed you a year ago to tell you about Garner?”
Chanda froze. She waited to fall apart at hearing his name, but nothing happened. It wasn’t that she didn’t recall how it felt to love him. No, she was stronger. Relief flooded her mind, and she relaxed just a bit.
“I remember,” she said. “You managed to track me down.”
Marcella laughed too loud into the phone. Chanda would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to pick up on the fact that her cousin was on cloud nine. “I can find you wherever you go.”
For a split second, the statement sounded threatening, but Marcella laughed.
“We’re family. We’re connected down to our genes and DNA. Or is that the same thing?”
“Don’t ask me.” Chanda shuffled across the room, intending to tackle the load of laundry she had lying near the closet. The motivation wasn’t there, but she kicked a pair of jeans that had grown tighter lately.
“Never mind about science.” Marcella brushed aside her own claim. “I wanted to be the first one to give you the good news and to invite you home.”
“Home?” Chanda’s breath left her lungs too quickly.
“Chandelier, I’m getting married!”
Chanda ground her teeth. Her first reaction was to cringe at the old nickname her cousin and a few others in her family had given her years ago. They thought it was funny, but Chanda hated it. Who wanted to be named after a light fixture?
Clarity hit when she replayed Marcella’s words in her head. “W-what did you say?”
Her cousin giggled like a teenager. “You heard me, girl. I’m getting married. Garner and I have set the date. We’re going to be married in two weeks.”
“T-that’s pretty soon.” Chanda kicked herself for the shaky voice, but Marcella didn’t seem to notice.
“I know. We’re so in love we can’t wait. Garner is eager to give me his last name. Isn’t he the sweetest thing? Now you can’t say no, but I’m going to ask you anyway.”
“Ask me what?”
Dread washed over Chanda. Marcella was going to ask her to come to the wedding. As kids, the two of them were close. Of course Marcella wanted her there. Chanda felt sure she could fly into her hometown, attend the wedding, and get the heck out of there. If worse came to worse, she could find an excuse not to show up at all.
“Cuz, I want you to be my maid of honor.”
Chanda dropped the phone. It bounced on the carpet and landed face down. The screen remained in tact, and she thanked God she’d sprung for the good cover. Then again, she wished it did break. She could have an excuse not to continue this conversation.
“Hey, Chanda, you there?” her cousin called over the line.
Nervous fear tightened her gut.
This isn’t a big deal. You show up, you say congrats, and you go home. Easy-peasy.
She thought it could work because honestly she wasn’t languishing over the lost love of her life. She had recovered. Didn’t she? Her heart mended—she hoped. Even if she did feel a little sad, it was the idea of losing a good man that made her feel that way. Not to mention the other loss—no, she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. Either way, her hesitance wasn’t about lingering love for Garner.
“I’m here,” she said. “But why would you ask me to be your maid of honor? Won’t your girlfriends feel slighted? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”
“You won’t. I’ve been waiting for this day all my life. Come on, Chanda. Say you’ll do it. Promise you’ll come to my wedding and that you’ll be my maid of honor.”
Does this chick know what she’s asking me to do?
“Um…”
“You’re not still in love with Garner, are you?”
“What? No, of course not.” Moisture gathered on Chanda’s upper lip. “It’s been forever since he and I were a thing. What’s that like, twelve years? Yeah, no, I’m not that lame that I would be holding a torch for Garner all that time.”
“Awesome. I knew you weren’t, but I wanted to be sure.” Her cousin nattered on when Chanda wanted to drop the subject. “You two were like fire together, burning hot. I never dreamed we would get together and—”
“Right, so no issue.”
“And I checked with you a year ago, remember? I asked you if it was okay that I date him.”
“But you were already seeing each other.” Chanda kicked herself for blurting that fact out. “I mean, uh, it doesn’t matter. That’s old news. And you’re right. You did email me before things got serious between you.”
An email, not a call. Stop, Chanda. Let it go. She thought of your feelings. That’s all that matters.
Marcella bubbled with enthusiasm. “Great. That’s why this idea is perfect. So the week before the wedding, we’re going to have family celebrations and some last minute prep. You can come home next Friday,
and we’ll have a whole week of catching up plus celebrating my wedding to the most perfect man alive.”
What could Chanda say? Marcella had brushed away all avenues of excuse. And as she said, it had been twelve long years since she was back home. It was time to let go of the past and build anew the relationships she left behind.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be there, Marcella. And I’ll be your maid of honor.”
Chapter 2
The second Chanda’s plane touched down, she knew she’d made a mistake. Her stomach knotted painfully as she collected her luggage and headed toward the airport exit. All during the flight, she’d felt ill. Now her head pounded, and her stomach kept threatening to toss its contents.
Hot night air hit her in the face as she stepped outside. Her head spun, and she paused to shut her eyes and wait for the dizziness to pass. It didn’t. She pressed a hand to her forehead. Moisture was already gathering there as well as on her top lip. She hadn’t missed Texas summers.
A moan escaped her. This was almost like morning sickness, except her womb didn’t hold a little one. Sadness washed over her, but she pushed the thought away.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
She opened her eyes and looked around. A taxi driver approached her. Yeah, that’s what she needed, a taxi to take her to the hotel where she was staying. While she’d given in to Marcella’s begging that she celebrate her marriage to Chanda’s ex, she refused to stay at Marcella’s apartment. There had to be somewhere in all of Arlington where she could be alone to collect her thoughts.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks. Can you take me to—”
“Chanda.”
Her heart stopped. Twelve years passed without her hearing Garner’s voice. As soon as she heard it again, she recognized it. Chaos broke loose in her emotions. He stood near a dark expensive looking car and shut the driver side door to jog around to the curb.
She tried not to notice how a decade of aging did nothing to dial down his gorgeousness. Garner was what people used to call “a pretty boy.” Six foot four, dark hair, electric silver eyes, a strong clean-shaven jaw, and a fantastic build—he was the full package. Any woman would kill to have him because along with good looks, he was sweet as gold.
How is gold sweet, Chanda? Focus, idiot!
“Garner,” she breathed. “What are you doing here? I told Marcella I was getting in kind of late, so I would make my own way to the hotel.”
He gestured to the taxi driver that he had it, and the man turned away disappointed. Garner strolled straight up to her and drew her close to kiss her cheek. Her body exploded from the first touch. Head to toe, she was a pile of jelly, wibbling and wobbling, barely able to stand.
He drew back to look into her eyes. His easy smile brought her attention to the lines around his mouth that weren’t there before. Now that she saw him closer, she spotted the very slight gray at his temples and the creases around the corners of his eyes. What was he? Thirty-five? Yeah, and still looked amazing.
“It’s good to see you.” His deep voice echoed in her chest. “You’re still beautiful.”
“Um.” She licked her lips. His hands on her arms kept her off balance. She stepped backward away from his touch. “Thanks. You look the same as well.”
He reached to take her luggage from her hand, his fingers brushing hers. It was all she could do not to spring away like a frightened animal. What the heck was this? Why was she so starkly aware of him? It wasn’t love—maybe desire? That was understandable, and resisting desire should be simple.
“I told her there’s no way I can let you come home alone and so late,” he explained. “We have to make sure you get to your hotel safely. Plus, this is a big deal, right? Coming home for the first time in so long?”
He started toward his car but looked back at her when he spoke. She forgot how to walk. Garner was like that, intuitive. It was the kind of thing few men locked onto but women got it.
“Yes, it’s hard.”
She climbed into the car while he packed her luggage into the trunk. With the few minutes she had until he joined her, she gathered her thoughts and emotions. So many memories flooded her head, all because he was near. Garner Driscoll, she had paired her name with his many times, imagining herself as his wife.
Back at the beginning when she left town, she consoled herself with the idea that they probably wouldn’t have gotten married anyway. With her being so young at the time, they might have broken up in a few months and she might have fallen in love with someone else.
Yeah, right. I might have.
Garner climbed into the car bringing his masculine heady scent with him. She couldn’t identify the scent, only that it teased and tantalized her senses. “Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere to get you something to eat. Or you can order room service.”
“I’m not hungry. Truth is, I’ve been feeling ill on the plane, and I’m not doing all that great now.”
He touched her forehead. “I thought you looked pale. Tell me your symptoms.”
She brushed his hand away. “I’m fine. Just tired. Don’t play doctor on me.”
He chuckled, unoffended. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“Yeah, I don’t know why you didn’t become a doctor with your knowledge and interests.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, and then started the car. “You know I didn’t go into medicine?”
She should have bitten her tongue. “Marcella was telling me you became a substance abuse counselor. She updated me a lot on what’s been going on in town and about the people I grew up with.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. Yeah, much to my dad’s disappointment—and my brothers—I dropped medicine and majored in psychology.”
“What made you do that?” She settled back in her seat and shut her eyes to listen to him. Her head was still spinning, and her stomach rocked with each bump they hit in the road.
“I had a friend who got into drugs. He went downhill fast.”
She heard his fingers squeak on the leather covering the steering wheel. The sound told her he had a hard time talking about his friend.
“I’m sorry. Did he get himself together eventually?”
“No.”
“Oh, Garner, I’m so sorry.” She sat up. Impulse made her touch his arm. To her surprise, he flinched. She drew away as quickly as possible and muttered another apology.
For a little while, they rode in silence. She tried to concentrate on the lights reflecting on the glass and beyond it the darkness stretching along the highway.
“I didn’t mean to respond like that,” he muttered.
Her fingers curled into the seat beneath her. “Like what?”
“My friend eventually died from an overdose.”
So they were going to ignore conversation regarding his physical reaction to her. Good. She wasn’t ready to talk about it, if ever. She could do this. She could get through the week just fine. Then it was back home to her apartment and her job.
Garner continued to talk about his work. “I began to think I could have done more for my friend if I understood how. After he died, I switched majors.”
“Wow. And do you like it? Counseling people for substance abuse?”
“I do.”
She looked over at him to find him smiling, and her heart skipped a beat.
“I can’t help them all—especially the ones who just aren’t ready to make a change. But I have helped a lot of people. It’s a fulfilling job.”
“I’m glad. Good for you.”
“And you?”
“Me?” She coughed. “I’m not doing anything special.”
“I bet you are. You were studying to be an interior designer before you left.”
She didn’t want to talk about herself. The tragic losses she endured steered her off course for a long time, and even now she hadn’t made it back to where she started out as a fresh-faced hopeful twenty-year-old. She didn’t have any excuses, but she wouldn’t tell Gardner that.
r /> The car in front of them slowed down sharply, and Garner slammed on the brakes. Chanda jerked forward. The seatbelt stopped her from cracking her face on the dash, but her stomach and head turned upside down. She let out a small choked sound as the world tumbled every which way.
“Oh God, I’m going to be sick.”
Garner swerved to the edge of the road, but it was too late. She ruined her clothes and the interior of his fancy new car.
Chapter 3
“I can’t believe I did that,” Chanda moaned.
“Shh. I’m going to put you down. Hang on.”
“I didn’t need you to carry me to my room in the first place!” She tried to work up some gumption to get Garner to stop trying to care for her, but she didn’t have the energy or the clear head.
He set her gently on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her waist. The man didn’t even seem to notice that he was risking making himself smell from her being sick. The clean clothes in the trunk were a godsend, but there wasn’t a shower back there.
Now they stood outside her hotel room after Garner checked her in and insisted on carrying her down the hall to the elevator and the rest of the eternal journey to her sixth floor room. Thank God it was late, and the only witness was the man at the front desk.