By Linda Boulanger     (Sunlight~Victory~Map)

Tiny eyes watched him as they moved away. The baby stared, unassuming, not caring about anything beyond the comfort received from being draped over a familiar shoulder. Darvis smiled, laughed at himself for even questioning whether the baby could have been his. When his eyes locked with Cari’s and his brows raised, she’d shaken her head and laughed. My sister’s baby, she’d mouthed as if he should have known. Hell, he’d never been around pregnant women or babies before. He’d never thought about the timing or how it all worked other than how they were made. Three and a half months ago he’d spent a night in heaven with his lips pressed against the same shoulder the baby mouthed in contentment. He’d been pretty content with the sweet taste of the woman that owned it, too. Yep, with all they’d done, he was pretty sure they could have easily made a baby.

Instead, she’d just up and walked away.

The elation he felt at seeing her again vanished, replaced by a resurgence of the ache that had wrapped itself around his heart when he’d realized she was gone. Just like that. In his arms one minute, promising to meet him after the game the next, and then, before his bat was even back in his bag, she was gone. No note. No call. Just … gone.

Ben Darvis sighed as he looked down at his cleated feet where he stood in the hallway beneath the stadium. He could hear his teammates in the locker room just down the way, a few of them had ventured into the weight room, and a couple more had managed to persuade one of the young trainers to offer up a round on the massage tables.

“Good to finally know why she left in such a hurry, huh?”

Darvis swung around coming face-to-face with the team’s publicity manager. An older woman, in her late forties maybe, Angela Carrigan was the poster child for kindness, though there wasn’t a guy on the team that didn’t respect her and her ability to get things done. She’d almost singlehandedly put the team back on the map, doing more for their reputation and their zeal by getting them multi-million dollar endorsements, working with the likes of T.D. Barruda and other big time sports product manufacturers to provide high dollar outfits and equipment just so they could say the now-winning Commanders used their stuff.

Angela Carrigan had also been the one to bring Carissa on board, hiring her in an unusual publicity move to do pencil sketch drawings of the players during the games. The images were then broadcast over the huge screens at the ends of the field off and on through the games as well as placed here and there in the programs sold at the next game. Ben had to admit, he’d thought it was a stupid idea at first, but the fans seemed to eat it up. There was even a calendar in the works, using actual photos of the players paired with Carissa’s pencil drawings as the backgrounds, which was the reason she’d been on the road with them in the first place –to get the rest of her drawings. The young artist had been sorely missed by the fans and the players alike after her sudden departure. Some players more than others, obviously.

Angela cleared her throat causing Ben to jump. She smiled when he looked up. Her eyes told him she knew more than anyone that the budding friendship between him and the coach’s niece had progressed beyond amiable companionship.

“Uhm. Yeah. It’s too bad about her sister getting sick right at the time the baby was born.” He stumbled, mumbled, trying to find words. “Nice of Cari to step in.”

“She couldn’t tell anyone, you know. Not that she couldn’t. More that … well, you know people always think the mental health of family members will reflect badly on them. And with her sister being her twin and all…”

Angela’s words hung there with Darvis trying to comprehend what she was actually telling him.

“Her leaving wasn’t meant to hurt you, even though it did. She simply knew her sister needed her and everything else took a back seat.” She waited for him to digest what she’d said. “She looked tired and more than a little bit stressed to me. I’m thinking she could use a friend now that she’s decided it’s time to resurface. And I’d say from the look in her eyes, she wouldn’t mind too much if that someone was you.”

Darvis’ innards filled with hope right before his heart plummeted into a doubtful spiral, all in a matter of seconds. “I don’t know, Ang. She’s known all along where to find me. She knew and didn’t.”

Angela shook her head and he knew she was wondering whether he’d heard a word she’d said. He had. Didn’t keep his heart from hurting though. Or his pride. She should have at least called.

His mind roamed back to that night with Cari, the one and only time she’d gone on the road with them, the first time he’d admitted he had feelings for the spunky twenty-something with her sandy blond ponytail and ready smile. Just thinking about her made him smile. It also caused a painful pinch right behind the wall of his finely sculpted chest, especially when he allowed himself to remember the way she’d traced those planes with soft fingertips before her mouth had followed suit. She’d lifted her head and laughed, a soft melody, right before she’d declared that she’d never tire of waking up beside him.

And then she’d sobered, her forehead crinkling with a frown. He hadn’t offered her forever, hadn’t looked beyond that night. And she hadn’t asked even as she’d given herself to him, the first man she’d ever been with. His chest constricted with the thought. What a fool he’d been.

“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered trying to pull away, attempting to pull the covers between them.

Ben had pushed aside that little pinch, along with the sheet. He’s resisted the right and wrong warring inside of him, instead kissing her neck, her shoulder, before whispering in return, “We have now…”

And they had. Right then, they’d made love again before the sunlight filtered in the reality of why they were there. Right before he’d left her to prepare to pitch his team to victory. Right before she’d walked away, without so much as a phone call to explain why.

“Ben.”

She flinched when he lifted his eyes to hers. He knew she could see the anger flaring within their hazel depths. Her head dropped and she turned around. Ben focused on the barely visible little head now resting in the crook of her arm as she walked away. Another inward battle launched itself around his heart.

“Cari, wait.”

She stopped, though only for a moment before she started walking again, calling back over her shoulder, “It’s okay, Ben. I understood then, and I understand now. I just thought…” She shook her head.

“You thought what?” he asked, catching up to her, careful not to knock the tiny head when he grabbed her arm.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He hoped she would see his plea. He needed her to say what he hoped she was trying to say, needed her to feel what he was feeling. He felt more nervous than he did whenever he stepped up to bat!

“I’ve really missed… I’ve missed the team.” Her half laugh broke at the end, her eyes flitting around his face.

It was time to swallow his pride. “Just the team, Car? As a whole?”

She closed her eyes as he touched her cheek. She shook her head then looked at him again. “Some more than others.”

With a trembling smile she turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm, making his knees go weak. Him! Some star ball player he was.

Careful not to crush the tiny life that had separated them months ago, he pulled her as close to him as he could. That separation had actually been the key. Without it he wondered if he would have realized what she truly meant to him, how much he wanted her to be a part of the rest of his life, how much he looked forward to them creating a new life.

“Sorry, little guy.” He laughed when the baby stretched and knocked against him seeming to push him away. He looked back at Cari. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about these little people.”

“But you’re okay with babies? You, uh, you want kids of your own?”

Ben’s brows drew down. She looked awfully hopeful. “Uhm. Yeah. I just …”

“Good,” she cut him off. “Because you’ll be up to bat in about five and a half months.”

by Linda Boulanger     Indeed~Shoot~Cry

The doorbell rang just as the man inside pushed back the sleeve of his Armani tee to check the time again. She was over twenty-five minutes late. Rain or no, that was not acceptable in Matthew Calhoune’s world. With steps that fell hard on the polished terrazzo floor, he marched to the ornately carved front door and jerked it open. He’d been prepared to tell the beauty on the other side to turn tail and head back the way she’d come. Instead, his heart constricted at the sight of the young lady, completely drenched, trying not to shiver as she leaned against his doorjamb. She looked up at him with blue eyes that spoke of failure, begged for forgiveness that he knew he should give even as the tart words formed on his tongue.

“You’re late!” He tapped the face of his black and gold Gucci. “That’s something I absolutely cannot tolerate.” His full lips thinning, he glared at her with a crossness he didn’t feel.

Tears filled the sky blue pools. Oh good Lord! She was going to cry. Matthew Calhoune could handle just about anything from a woman, except tears.

Her head dropped, blocking Matthew’s view of the droplets he was sure were spilling onto those perfectly sculpted cheeks. He wanted to reach out and tip her face back up to his so that he could study the exquisite lines on the canvas before him. Even soaking wet, there was a beauty about her. Indeed, she was a superb specimen and his mind began to whirl, thinking of the images he’d capture with the lens of his camera. This photo shoot was going to be different. He could feel the excitement churning inside him. It was about time. Photographing beautiful women should not morph into a boring experience.

Without a word, Matthew turned on his heel and began to retreat back toward his office only to realize no soggy footsteps seemed to be following. “Hey?” he yelled through the still open door when he wheeled back around to see her disappearing down the perfectly landscaped, flower lined walkway. A few very quick steps had him by her side, his hand on her arm to stop her. Those blue eyes sought his, making him laugh when he realized she wasn’t crying. She was angry.

She tried to pull away but Matthew’s grip was firm, though not hard. He’d hate to have to airbrush out handprint bruises from her photographs. “Are you mad at me?” he asked when she continued to glare at him.

“No. Of course not.” She scrunched her nose when she answered. “Well, maybe a little. I tried to call, but my phone went dead. Cell phones don’t like to get drenched.” She sighed. “It’s not like I wanted to be late. I know I should have planned better, but you didn’t have to be so mean about it.”  Soft, naturally red lips formed the perfect pout that made Matthew want to scream. He needed to get her into the studio. Now.

Only once his hand dropped, she began again to walk away.

“Sasha!”

She froze. He’d almost called her Alexandra, a formality he would have extended to any other model. Somehow he knew the use of her real name would have left him watching her go. The familiarity of a nickname had done the trick. “I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke to her backside. “I just wanted you to know your lateness was unappreciated. Come in. We have work to do.”

Oh no. There were tears again when she turned to face him. She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m a mess and I’m sure my clothing is soaked inside here.”

Matthew noticed for the first time the bag on rollers that she’d pulled behind her. His brows drew down. “Why didn’t you leave that at your hotel?”

The young lady, a good six inches shorter than his 6’2” height, shifted from foot to foot and twisted a delicious chocolate curl around a slender finger. “It… I… I thought I might need something?” she asked instead of told. Her uncertainty didn’t sell it either.

“Do you even have a room yet?”

Sasha shook her head and looked away. “I kind of needed the money from the shoot before I could get one.”

Matthew felt certain he’d see more tears in those gorgeous eyes if she was to turn back in his direction. Damn if his heart wasn’t getting involved in this one and that was something he vowed a long time ago that he would never do. Business and pleasure were not to mix and relationships on a whole were to be mostly avoided. He thought about his mom and the loveless marriage she’d endured to his dad, only to have that selfish man walk out on her right as middle aged crazies set in. Fortunately for her, life had sent someone to bandage her wounds. He smiled. His mom seemed truly happy, though Matthew knew her scars ran deep. That was something he didn’t want. No, when he finally gave his heart away, it was going to be on his terms and in his timing. But this girl he knew very little about, other than the fact that she was obviously down on her luck even with those looks, had managed to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He thought for a moment. Maybe it would be better if he just let her go.

But he couldn’t. Knew he wouldn’t.

“And I suppose you walked all the way out here?”

She offered the expected head nod. “The lady at the Hope bus station said your house was just at the end of the road.” A sarcastic half laugh punctuated the sentence. “Only a couple of miles doesn’t seem that far when you’re on the starting end of them and, well, I didn’t think the slightly gray clouds overhead could possibly rip open with such a vengeance. If I’d realized, I would have called from the station.” She shrugged. “Again, poor planning on my part and I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

Now it was Matthew’s turn to shrug, right after he’d cringed internally. Bus station? Why would anyone use the bus lines these days? Unless… He decided to let it go. “Well, you’re here now. Let’s see what we can do to salvage the session. When did you schedule your return home?” Matthew was already thinking about taking advantage of her drenching for a wet session this afternoon, perhaps followed by the scheduled boudoir shots tomorrow. He’d love to get her into some elegant clothing for some period work if they had time. She’d look stunning as a Regency Lady or a Medieval Maiden. Out of all the women he’d shot lately, this one had incredible promise. If he could have had her for a week…

“I left it open, but I have to be back at school by Tuesday morning at the latest. I have to open the campus bookstore.”

Campus. At least they were talking college-aged school. Her bio had said twenty-three, but she could have lied. It happened in his business. Matthew did a quick bit of math. If she really was twenty-three that put him at almost nine years her senior. A bit of a span, but definitely doable.

What the… Those were not the directions his thoughts should be taking. Had his heart not heard a single syllable of the words that had been running through his head?

A purposely cleared throat pulled him back. He realized she was staring at him, watching with hope-filled eyes. His laughter raised the corners of his lips, caused a bit of a crinkling beside his own baby blues. “Come on.” Grabbing the handle of her rolling bag, he turned it around and headed toward the still-opened door. His smile wide, he walked on. Now that he had possession of her bag she surely had no choice but to follow. “You know, I have a really nice guest suite.” He stopped at the bottom of a grand staircase and turned toward her. His brows creased. He could have sworn she’d quickly hidden near laughter. Perhaps the innocence that seemed to run through her was only skin deep.

He gazed into her perfect blues for a moment, his apprehensions fading. He shrugged and made the comment he’d been about to make. “Maybe you could just stay here and we could start again very early in the morning. I’m thinking some sunrise shots in the rose garden would be absolutely divine…”

“Miss? Miss!” The distinctly feminine voice made Sasha jump, her head bumping hard against the window. That same voice chuckled as she rubbed her head while looking around to try to get hear bearings. “That must have been a pretty good dream.” She nudged the young woman with her elbow. You know, many a dream found root right here in Hope. Anyway, we’re here.”

The heavyset older woman with the kindest of faces was already gathering her few possessions and shoving them back into her oversized knitting bag that had landed itself partway on Sasha’s lap for most of the trip. Sasha slipped her purse over her shoulder then waited to get off, reminding herself not to sit so far back the next time.

“Good luck with your pictures,” she called to Sasha before walking away, her new grandbaby cuddled in her arms. More family members crowded around her, obviously happy to have her near.

Sasha smiled, grabbed her suitcase from the driver, and headed inside the station to try to figure out how to get to Mr. Calhoune’s house.

“What can I do for you?” The overly thin woman behind the counter asked even before Sasha had walked up to her. Sasha figured she must have looked lost.

“Could you direct me to Matthew Calhoune’s home? His address is…”

“It’s at the end of Enchantment Road,” she interrupted, laughing at Sasha’s surprise before looking her over with a knowing nod. “The road starts at the end of the bus station drive. Everyone in town knows where it is. Want me to call you a cab?”

Sasha shook her head. “I was thinking about walking.”

Raised eyebrows met her statement. “I don’t know. We’re due some rain this afternoon. You don’t want to get caught out in it.”

A beautiful smile touched the young woman’s lips. “I think I’ll chance it,” she told the older woman. “Could you tell me how far it is to his house?”

Biting at her lower lip, her head tipping back and forth in contemplation, the clerk finally tapped her cheek and offered up two fingers. “A little less than two miles, I’d say.”

“Thanks.” Sasha turned and walked away, her bag scraping along behind her.

“Welcome to Hope,” the woman called to her as she exited the station.

Sasha smiled as the first droplets of rain began to fall. What had the woman on the bus said about dreams? If ever a dream was going to come true, it might as well be in a place called Hope.

By Linda Boulanger      Blue~Master~Horizon


Blue. It was the only way to describe the way Jenna Evans was feeling. Descending on her the moment she’d laid eyes on Pierce Colton that evening, the feeling began at the top of her head and drained down like a thick, encompassing liquid flowing over her entire body.

She knew she’d better master control over this feeling and needed to do it fast. In just moments the emcee would announce her name, fans would start cheering, and she’d be expected to meet Pierce Colton center stage with a smile on her face and her lips ready to collide with his for a show starting kiss that girls around the world would kill for.

And yet misery coated her insides.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” She wondered how many times she would have to say those words for her heart to believe them. Throughout her usual pre-show ritual -- rolling her neck, shaking her arms, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot – she could see Pierce across the stage. He was chatting quietly, probably with some woman. Her hate-o-meter rose another degree and she intensified the ritualistic movements. Pierce Colton was not going to derail her career by turning her insides to jelly and her mind to mush simply because he’d pushed her away right after she’d given him her heart. Well, he may not want her in his personal life, but he had no choice but to keep her around as his business partner, at least until this concert tour was over.

She had to admit, teaming up with the top male country artist had given her career the boost it desperately needed. Unlike the majority of those in the music industry, Jenna hadn’t ridden in on the coattails of a famous mother or an uncle in the business. She hadn’t slept her way to the top either. No, she’d worked hard to get where she was. And that place was at the top since she’d teamed up with Pierce.

She remembered back to how skeptical she’d been when the proposal of a tour with him had been suggested. But the chemistry between them exploded the first time they met. And the rest, as they say, was history in the making. With Pierce Colton beside her, Jenna Evans, known to the world as Jenna Roxanne, had finally arrived, positioned on the horizon of superstardom.

Working with Pierce, up until now, had been amazing. He’d pushed her beyond her comfort zone, demanding more from her as an artist than she’d ever thought possible. He’d even taken her shopping to spice up her wardrobe. He’d molded her into the woman the public would clamor to see.

“The world’s yours for the taking, doll,” he’d told her right before he’d suggested the shopping trip. Spoken with that sexy country accent of his, he’d continued, “But, you have to learn how to work it. You’re a beautiful woman, Jenna Roxanne.” He’d trailed a finger from temple to jawline, then down her neck to outline the matronly cut of her shirt’s collar. “They want to see what you have to offer…”

He’d stared down at her as his words faded, his eyes dropping to her lips just long enough that she’d thought for sure he was going to kiss her. Instead he’d tapped her on the nose in big brother fashion and suggested he take her shopping. Stunned, Jenna could do little more than nod and away they’d gone.

Jenna sighed. If she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit that was when her heart started slipping into his grasp, though it had taken several months of writing, recording, rehearsing, and finally being on the road together for him to make his move and for her to let him. What a fool, she thought, allowing herself a moment more to wallow in the thick syrup of misery before returning her focus to the stage before her. She knew the spiel, knew the emcee was getting ready to announce them, knew it was time to put on her game face and let the people have what they’d paid for. Broken heart or no, Jenna Roxanna was all about being professional.

“…And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Give it up for Piercccccce Colton and Jennnna Roxxxxxxannnne….”

The crowd erupted as the duo entered their view from opposing sides of the stage. Pierce had the audacity to look her over then wink as she came toward him. Undoubtedly he recognized the outfit. He’d picked it out. Jenna reached for his outstretched hand, their fingertips barely touching before he grabbed hold of her, pulled her tight against his broad chest, and spun her around. Through a fog, Jenna heard the roaring crowd, heard their chant. Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!

Her body firmly against his, unwanted desire flare as Jenna remembered how it had felt to be in his arms, wrapped in a lover’s embrace that had carried them through the night. What was worse, she knew Pierce felt it too. With a deliberate slowness, he slid her back down his body to where her feet were planted firmly on the stage.

“I missed you this morning,” he whispered as his fingers snaked back into her hair. “Thought you were going to join me for breakfast?”

Jenna frowned and his brows drew down before one lifted in question.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been trying to avoid me all day, doll.”

KISS HER!!!

Pierce left her no time to respond. He smiled that so-sexy-it-makes-your-insides-tremble trademark smile of his, turning his head toward the audience for a brief moment before he closed the gap and his mouth covered Jenna’s. Only unlike every other night, the kiss deepened, his tongue tracing the curve of her lips before requesting entrance. Jenna’s mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, opening to allow him inside just as it had, over and over, throughout the night.

“It aaaaall started… with a kissssss…” Pierce started the song, turning away from a dazed Jenna to face the expectant audience. He continued, crooning about that first kiss and how she’d worked her way into his heart.

Jenna managed to snap out of it just in time to belt out her part, answering back in the style so typical of country duets. The audience always ate it up though, especially after that shared kiss.

Somehow Jenna managed to get through the show. After the final bows, she slipped into the wings. Pierce’s behavior and questions had left her with more than a few questions of her own and she needed to be alone to think.

“Jenna?”

Busted. Jenna froze on her way down the stairs to the limo that would have returned her to their hotel. The disappointment in Pierce’s voice had stopped her feet more than anything.

“What’s going on, doll?”

Jenna’s head dropped. It took her several minutes and the fear of Pierce moving closer to help her find her voice. “I came down to the hotel restaurant, just like you’d asked when you slipped away from my room. Only…” Jenna cleared her emotion-clogged throat. “You weren’t alone, Pierce.” Her eyes filled with tears that refused to stay put. One slid down her cheek and brought him exactly where she didn’t want him: to her side.

A gentle thumb wiped the tear away, his palm remaining against her cheek. “Will you come with me for a minute?”

Jenna shook her head, shook his hand away. “No, I just need to go.”

It was no use. He already had her hand and was pulling her back up the stairs. Jenna walked with her head down not wanting anyone to see the remaining moisture on her cheeks.

“Krissy!”

Jenna’s head popped up at the sound of Pierce’s voice, her mouth dropped open as they approached the very woman he’d been with that morning at breakfast. Jenna started trying to backpedal, to get him to release her. Pierce seemed oblivious, hauling her to a stop in front of the gorgeous blond.

“Jenna Evans, I want you to meet someone who is more special to me than just about anyone on this earth. This is Krissy. Krissy Colton, my sister.”

The blonde held out her hand, which Jenna just stared at. More special… His… What?

“I’m assuming by your reaction you didn’t know I was coming. Seems Pierce may have had something else on his mind that caused my arrival to be forgotten. Good thing I knew the hotel and bumped into him at breakfast.” She laughed. It was Pierce’s melodic laugh in a feminine dose.

“I’m sorry. I’m just…” Jenna fumbled, finally settling on a smile and an outstretched hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Krissy’s been a fan of yours for years, doll. In fact, it was her prodding that got me to agree to meet you in the first place.” Pierce nodded as Jenna looked from sister to brother.

“And I’m hoping Pierce’s request for me to bring Grandma’s ring means what I think it means.” Krissy smiled.

Jenna felt numb in a good sort of way, only she seemed unable to breathe. Pierce took her hand and pulled her to him very much like he did every night at the start of the show.

“It all started long before that first kiss for me, Jenna, and I’ve been trying to figure out a way to let you know. And, just in case, I had Krissy bring me the ring.” He brushed his lips over hers before continuing. “Having to leave your side after last night … I don’t think I can do that again. So what I’m trying to say is that I’d be honored if you’d consider sharing center stage with me for the rest of our lives.”

Fresh tears filled her eyes as she stared up at him, knowing center stage with Pierce Colton was exactly where she was supposed to be. Jenna Roxanne had definitely arrived.