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Keep Me Close
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Keep Me Close
A Light My Fire Novel
J.H. Croix
Contents
1. Hallie
2. Chase
3. Hallie
4. Hallie
5. Chase
6. Hallie
7. Chase
8. Chase
9. Hallie
10. Hallie
11. Chase
12. Chase
13. Hallie
14. Hallie
15. Chase
16. Hallie
17. Chase
18. Chase
19. Chase
20. Hallie
21. Chase
22. Hallie
23. Chase
24. Chase
25. Hallie
26. Chase
27. Hallie
28. Chase
29. Chase
30. Hallie
31. Chase
32. Hallie
33. Chase
34. Chase
35. Hallie
36. Chase
Epilogue
Find My Books
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2022 J.H. Croix
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
To those who took the detour when life created it.
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Chapter One
Hallie
My hands were curled so tightly around the steering wheel that my fingers hurt. When I finally let go, I sat there, trying to take a breath. My lungs felt tight, and my heart ached.
I was only thirty years old. That was it. I tried to tell myself it wasn't a big deal. The news could be worse. I was going to survive. I was going to be fine. Fine.
But, but—
I shook that thought away so hard it skittered off into the dark edges of my mind. Awareness clicked into place, and I finally noticed I was just sitting there in the parking lot at the grocery store.
Abruptly, I decided I didn't want to go grocery shopping, not today. I didn't even want to go back to my lonely apartment tonight, but I didn't want to see anybody I knew. I wanted to pretend everything was fine. As if I hadn't just discussed when I’d be scheduling surgery.
I started my car again, stretching my hands before I began driving. I headed out of Anchorage, watching the city lights disappear in the darkness.
Moonlight gilded the snow-topped mountains with a silvery glow. I’d always loved how it felt as if the mountains cradled the city. They felt so close, as if I could reach out and touch them.
Though it was bracingly cold outside, it was clear, and the roads were plowed. I told myself I would just drive for a little bit, maybe stop at the first exit outside the city. I passed that exit, but I wasn't ready to stop yet. A while later when I saw the exit for Willow Brook, I smiled. I'd been here a few times. The downtown area had a cute little coffee shop. It was just far enough outside of Anchorage that I didn't come often. I typically drove south rather than west. My brother lived in Diamond Creek, another small town roughly five hours south.
I couldn't even remember why I'd come to Willow Brook the last time. I thought it was because a friend had an art show in a gallery here. The town was just big enough that I could find somewhere to stay. When I turned onto Main Street and saw the sign for Wildlands Lodge & Restaurant, I whispered, “Here.”
I could stay here, have a good dinner, and pretend my life belonged to someone else for the night.
I checked into my room and dropped off my backpack, which had some toiletries and a change of clothes. Not because I planned this night, but because I always had that in my car. You never knew what might happen when driving in winter weather in Alaska. That was a habit I'd carried since I was younger and more carefree and traveled frequently.
I glanced in the mirror before I left the bathroom and swiped a brush through my light-brown hair. My hazel eyes blinked at me behind my glasses. I slipped a tube of lip gloss out of my purse and smoothed it across my lips.
“There,” I said to my reflection. “You look fine.”
I looked nothing like I felt, as if I was cracking along the seams. I jogged down the wide stairs at the lodge. It was a nice place, with guest rooms in the two wings off the main section and a restaurant and bar downstairs. The lodge was situated on a lake with the lights from the dock glittering in the darkness. Tonight, the reflection from the moonlight shimmered on the surface of the frozen lake.
Moments later, I walked into the bar and restaurant and glanced around. It was busy, busier than I'd expected for winter. My guess was it was a favorite local hangout.
My eyes landed on the bar, and I strolled across the room, the heels of my cowboy boots striking the wide plank hardwood flooring. I ordered a sangria with a burger and fries.
I was starting to feel carefree. This was what I used to do—on a whim, go to new places by myself. You could be who you wanted to be because nobody knew you.
As I sipped my drink and looked around the crowded space, my eyes collided with a man's. He was leaning on the opposite corner of the bar from me. The lights from above glinted on his dark hair.
When his dark gaze connected with mine, it felt like a flame lit in the air, heat flickering across the distance between us. He was, as they say, tall, dark and handsome. My body buzzed, and I took a long swallow from my drink, casting a smile in his direction. His return smile was subtle, just a kick of his lips at one corner paired with a barely-there wink. It sent my belly in a swoop and a spin.
I swallowed and thought maybe, just maybe, I could forget everything for a night. I could pretend I was carefree and careless and reckless.
A few minutes later, the man rested his elbows on the bar beside me. “Hi,” I said, injecting boldness into my tone.
He dipped his chin. “Hey there, I'm Chase.”
“I'm Hallie.”
“Nice to meet you, Hallie.”
His voice was low and rumbly. It both invigorated and soothed my nerves. I'd never had a one-night stand, but I decided tonight was the night. It was perfect. He was perfect.
“I don't think you're from around here,” he observed.
I shook my head. “I'm not. You must be.”
He grinned. “I am. How long are you here?”
“Just tonight.”
“Well, it's good to meet you.”
I smiled up at him.
“I need to say hi to some friends. Are you going to be here much longer? Here, meaning the bar,” he clarified.
I cocked my head to the side, angling to look up at him and wondering if I'd lost my mind. My gut told me he wasn't crazy or evil, and I was desperate for a thorough distraction to take my mind off my worries.
“Yes, I'm staying here tonight.”
Another dip of his head as his dark eyes searched mine. “I'll be back then.”
He moved to straighten and push away from the bar, and I reached out, catching him lightly by the elbow. He glanced down, arching a brow.
“Promise me you're a nice guy.” As if a promise from a near-stranger would mean anything.
“I promise. You can ask the bartender. She'll vouch for me.” He gestured toward a woman behind the bar.
She smiled over at us. “What is it?”
“Tell Hallie I'm a nice guy.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed as she studied us. “I'm Delilah. He’s a nice guy. I’d tell you if he was an ass.”
Chase chuckled before turning away. Delilah was already serving someone else a drink. A moment later, she made her way over and paused beside me. “If you need anything, let me know. And I wasn't joking. Chase is a good guy.”
I felt hot all over. “Okay, thank you.”
“You take care,” she said. Her eyes searched mine, and I sensed she knew I was struggling with something, but she was a stranger. Just as Chase was. And I wanted it to stay that way.
Chapter Two
Chase
Hallie peered up at me, her stunning eyes blinking behind her glasses. “No last names,” she announced.
My system felt electrified. My heart was drumming hard and fast in my chest as I stared down at her. “Okay.” I heard myself saying.
I didn't know how I knew, but I knew this woman needed to forget something as much as I did. And maybe we could use each other to forget. The chemistry between us was enough to start a bonfire. Although I wasn't out searching for romance—unlike most of my friends lately who were falling in love at the speed of light—this
woman gave me pause. Even though I liked to keep things casual, I wasn't an asshole.
“Just tonight,” she added. “I don't live here.”
I glanced down at her drink. “I've only had half of that. I'm not even buzzed,” she clarified, somehow reading my mind.
“Okay,” I repeated.
She slipped her hand into mine, her touch a little cool. I followed as she weaved her way through the bar. I caught the eye of my friend Ward as I passed by. His eyes dipped down to our hands. His gaze was unreadable when it lifted to mine again.
Moments later, we were standing outside what I presumed was her room on the third floor. For a second, I hesitated, doubts jostling in my mind. But then, she leaned up, slid her hand around the back of my neck, and brought her lips to mine, tugging me down just far enough to meet her. Her lips were plump and plush and warm. “Come on,” she murmured, the words forming against my mouth.
I couldn't help it. I needed to taste her, so I deepened our kiss. When her tongue glided against mine, it felt as if threads of fire spun through my body, a tangle of heat and fierce need burning in the wake of sparks leaping.
I lifted my head, taking in her light-brown hair. It fell just above her shoulders in a swingy bob. Her eyes were a swirl of green and gold with flecks of brown and tilted up at the corners. She lifted her chin slightly as if she dared me to second-guess this.
Then the door opened, and she drew me inside. I forgot myself in her. In us.
When I woke the next morning, she was gone.
A tiny, square sticky note was left on the door.
Don't forget the rules: One night, no last names. It was everything I wanted. Thank you, Chase.
xo
Hallie
I lifted the note off the door, staring down at it before I folded it carefully and slipped it into my wallet for some reason.
I had wanted just one night, but it had been far more than I expected. Fuck me. We just clicked. I remembered Hallie’s hazel eyes darkening. I remembered the feel of her clenching around me. I remembered falling asleep beside her and thinking maybe I could talk her into another night this morning. All I knew was her first name and that she was a photographer. I didn't even know where she lived. We’d traded very few details about each other. She knew I was Chase, I was from Willow Brook, and I was a firefighter. But that was it. I wanted to find her. But that was breaking the rules.
I took a shower in the room and made my way downstairs, stopping in the bar to see if Delilah happened to be around this early. She was. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she glanced over at me with a crooked smile. “Good morning, Chase. Don't usually see you here in the morning.”
A few guests had breakfast over in the buffet section that was set up in the mornings. Delilah was stocking the bar and tidying up.
“You usually work a late shift and then again in the morning?”
“Nah. I like the morning shift better. I was covering for someone last night. What's up?”
I eyed her, wondering whether to ask. Fuck it. “What are the chances you could get Hallie’s last name for me?”
“Zero,” Delilah said flatly.
“Come on,” I pressed.
“No, that's totally not cool.”
“But you vouched for me. You told her I was a nice guy,” I insisted.
“Yeah, you are a nice guy, but if she didn't give you her last name and you try to get it, that’s weird. I don't want to get fired for giving out customer information.”
I sighed. “You're right.”
She gave me a measured look and then leaned over. “If you meant as much to her as she did to you after last night, I'm sure she'll come back and find you. What does she know about you?”
“That I'm from Willow Brook and a firefighter, and my name is Chase.”
“What do you know about her?”
“Her name is Hallie, she’s some kind of a photographer, and she's not from Willow Brook. That's it.”
“Hmm,” Delilah said.
“You won't reconsider?”
“No, I won't. I don't even have access to the database for guests. I just cover the bar.”
“All right,” I grumbled. “See you around.”
“You want some breakfast?”
“Nah, I'm gonna go to Firehouse Café.”
She nodded in understanding. “We have coffee, but it's not that good.”
I chuckled. “Thanks again.”
“For what? I didn't even give you the info you wanted this morning.”
“No, but you vouched for me last night.”
“Because you are a good guy.” Delilah winked and spun away.
As I left, I wondered if I could find Hallie or if it was better to leave last night exactly as it was.
Chapter Three
Hallie
Three months later
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“Um, what?”
My doctor studied me before nodding slowly. “You're pregnant.”
“Why? How? Oh, my god!” I sputtered.
“Well, I presume you got pregnant the usual way. You’ve been attributing these symptoms to endometriosis, but that’s not it.”
“Oh, wow.” I sat there in shock as I tried to absorb this news.
“I'm assuming you have a boyfriend then,” Dr. Williams added.
“Uh, no. We used condoms.”
She nodded. “Well, since we’d just removed your IUD the month before, you had a higher chance of getting pregnant.” My IUD had expired, so she’d removed it. Since I’d planned to schedule surgery, I’d chosen not to get another one at the time.
“But, how did I get pregnant?” My brain felt thick, as if I was missing something.
“Because no birth control is 100 percent,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts. “But with endometriosis, my chances weren’t that good.”
She shrugged. “There was a chance.”
“How far along am I?”
“Ballpark, three months.”
I silently did the math in my brain. I’d met Chase—oh, my god!—almost exactly three months ago. I swallowed and took a shaky breath. “Okay, what do I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can I safely have a baby?”
“Just like birth control, I can’t make guarantees, but yes, you can safely have a baby.”
“But you told me my chances of successfully getting pregnant were very low.”
“Low doesn’t mean impossible. Did you think it was impossible?”
I sighed, swinging my legs where they were dangling from the exam table. “Well, yeah, I did. I was about to look into the whole IVF thing because I wanted to do that before I lost the chance completely.”
Dr. Williams sat down across from me on a stool. “You're pregnant. If you want to keep the baby, I think you should. Endometriosis is chronic, and we know you have a severe case. The last time you had surgery, it was stage four. Even though we've been doing things to manage it, you already have another cyst on one of your ovaries, and it's getting larger.”
“Will that cause problems with my pregnancy?”
“We can deal with it.”
I took a deep breath, still trying to scramble my thoughts together.
“Is the father someone you're friendly with? Will he support you in this process?” she asked gently.
“Well, uh, I don’t know.”
Her lips twitched. “I'm not here to lecture you on any of your choices. I asked because if you decide to keep this baby, you might want to talk to the father. It's been my experience, not as a therapist or a lawyer, but as a doctor who hears lots of stories, that things can get complicated when parents aren't kept in the loop about what's happening. It's your body and your choice. I’m 100 percent on your side with that. But communicating with him may be a way to head off any future complications.”