Unknown - [Carly Phillips] The Bachelor (The Chandler Brothe(Bookos.org) (1)

“He’s possessive,” Rick said, hands folded across his chest.

Chase snickered.

Roman groaned. “Just don’t screw this up. Watch out for her until I get back. I have to go do laundry and then pack.” Roman started for the short flight of wooden stairs that led to the house.

“What makes this one so special?” Rick called out.

“Other than the fact that she’s his alibi?” Chase’s laugh followed him to the door.

Roman shook his head. He grabbed for the doorknob, then turned back, “I can’t wait for the day when Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

the joke’s on the two of you.”

Charlotte ran into her apartment and dashed for the phone. She’d heard it ring from the hallway, her arms filled with dry cleaning, and by the time she’d found her keys and made it inside, whoever was there had hung up without leaving a message.

She dropped her cleaning onto the couch. “Let’s see if anyone called before that.” Her stomach clenched in tight knots as she prayed neither her father nor Roman had chosen to call. She couldn’t avoid both men forever, but until she understood what she needed out of life, she was giving avoidance her best shot.

She hit the play button and listened to the first and only message. “Hi, Charlotte. It’s me.” Roman’s voice hit her like a punch in the stomach, sucking all the air out of her lungs. She lowered herself into the nearest chair.

“I just called to say . . .”

Silence followed, and she held her breath, waiting for him to continue. Wanting to hear she didn’t know what.

“I called to say good-bye.”

The hurt overflowed in her veins, seeping into every part of her being. She waited for him to say more, but all that followed was the click of being disconnected. She sat in mute silence, the lump in her throat huge, the squeezing sensation that brought a pain to her chest intense.

So that was it. He’d taken off again for parts unknown, just as she’d always known he would.

Her insides churned and she thought she might be sick. But why? Why should she be upset Roman had followed the pattern he’d set? The one she’d expected? Unable to stand the stifling apartment and questions that dogged her, she grabbed her keys and ran out the door without looking back.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Charlotte walked into the general store at sevenA .M, the same time Herb Cooper opened the doors.

“Third time this week you’re here this early. New schedule?” he asked.

She smiled. “You could say that.” A week after Roman’s departure, she was amazed at the amount of avoidance a creative person could manage. No one else shopped this early and she found she could get in and out without having to make small talk with anyone other than Herb or Roxanne, his wife.

“Well, the fresh bread’s not even unpacked yet, but I’ll grab you a loaf and have it waiting at the register for when you’re ready to check out.”

“Thanks, Herb.”

“Just doing my job. You keep the womenfolk happy and us men in town decided we’d best keep you Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

happy too.”

Charlotte laughed. “I wouldn’t turn down fresh bread, but I think you’re overestimating my importance around here.”

The older man turned the color of his tomatoes in the corner. “No, ma’am. You are definitely keeping the women happy. It’s that panty thief that’s driving ’em insane. The women who had theirs pilfered can’t replace them fast enough and the younger ones hope that Chandler boy will wake them out of their sleep.”

Charlotte lifted her gaze skyward. So much for avoidance.

“Living fairy tales, I tell you. A man like Roman Chandler has more important things to do than steal panties. But try telling that to the women.” He shook his head, just as the telephone rang, interrupting him.

“Well, least with him gone, we’ve had some quiet. Whoever is stealing those panties knows he’s got no alibi now, so it’s been quiet.” He reached for the phone. “General store. What can I do for you?”

Charlotte escaped into the aisles while she had the chance and breathed a sigh of relief. In the seven days Roman had been gone, she had developed an odd sort of respect for her mother’s ability to stay disconnected from life in a small town. It wasn’t easy.

Aside from the general chit-chat with neighbors, everyone in Charlotte’s life wanted something from her.

Beth wanted to know what was wrong, why Roman had left so suddenly. Her mother wanted to know when she’d come for dinner with her family. Rick wanted an updated list of customers and any hunches she had, and those customers wanted the panties they’d ordered.

Since Beth was running the shop, Charlotte was able to spend her days crocheting. Another word for avoiding, she admitted, but at least her customers would be satisfied, even if the rest of the people pulling pieces from her were not.

The only person not asking a damn thing from her was the one she’d turned away. Her throat constricted and hurt from the ever-present lump that had settled there. She blamed herself for falling into Roman’s trap as much as she blamed him for unintentionally drawing her in. Though she knew he’d never meant to hurt her, the fact remained, he had.

She still had the taped message he’d left on her answering machine. Not that she intended to torture herself by replaying it, and she refused to analyze why she hadn’t just let the next call tape over his seductive voice.

Half an hour later, she’d returned to her apartment to unpack the groceries and straighten up before going to work. She’d spent the last week hiding from the world. Charlotte figured everyone with a broken heart was entitled to healing time. Unlike her mother, she didn’t plan to make it a lifetime.

She looked out the window into the bright sunshine. It was time to get back into her routine, starting with tonight’s baseball game.

When the game ended, the Rockets had continued their winning streak, and though she’d shown her face, Charlotte had continued parental avoidance. She was ready for many things. Dealing with her father wasn’t one of them. He was too much a reminder of all that hurt, past and present. She had no doubt if Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

she stalled long enough, he’d leave too. And leave was something she had to do, before Russell could attempt to corner her again. As he’d done in the general store and outside her apartment. She’d ducked out on him those times as well.

“Here. Toss this for me, will you?” Charlotte handed Beth her soda can. “And don’t forget to recycle.”

She hopped down off the bottom bleacher. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Coward,” Beth called after her.

Charlotte kept walking, though she couldn’t deny her friend’s words cut deep, partly because Roman had called her the same thing, and mostly because Charlotte knew Beth was right. Eventually she would have to face everything she was avoiding, including her parents. She just wasn’t ready.

Halfway back to town, she decided to cut across the Sullivan Subdivision, through George and Rose Carlton’s yard. The Carltons were still at the baseball game, as were most of the other townspeople, so when Charlotte heard a rustle near the front hedges, she turned around, surprised.

“Hello?” she called out.

A lanky man in forest-green pants, button-down top, and a baseball cap was skulking around the bushes. When he heard her voice, he ducked down, but not before she caught a glimpse of his face.

“Samson?” Her surprise turned to complete shock. She ran up the bluestone walk. “Get out of the bushes now.” She pulled on the green shirt that blended with the foliage. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”