Chasing you, p.1
Chasing You, page 1
CHASING YOU
ELLA GOODE
CONTENTS
Summary
Chapter 1
Vincent
Chapter 2
Emma
Chapter 3
Vincent
Chapter 4
Emma
Chapter 5
Vincent
Chapter 6
Emma
Chapter 7
Vincent
Chapter 8
Emma
Chapter 9
Vincent
Chapter 10
Emma
Chapter 11
Vincent
Chapter 12
Emma
Chapter 13
Vincent
Chapter 14
Emma
Chapter 15
Vincent
Chapter 16
Emma
Chapter 17
Vincent
Chapter 18
Emma
Chapter 19
Vincent
Chapter 20
Emma
Chapter 21
Vincent
Epilogue
Chasing Us
Vincent
Also by Ella Goode
SUMMARY
Vincent
Flying fighter jets was easier than wooing Emma Charles. If it isn’t her brother (and my best friend although seriously reconsidering that title) trying to block me at every turn, there’s the towns Sheriff trying to claim what I consider already mine. In between trying to convince my (maybe former best friend) that I’m fit to fly Emma’s plane, we have to dethrone this tyrant.
Emma
I know better than to fall for my brother’s best friend. For one, my brother would never allow it. For two, my brother’s a flight jockey which means his best friend is one, too. Do I really want to lose my heart to someone who loves the sky more than the earth? I know better! In all seriousness, though, I think I have a better chance at finally showing my small town who the Sheriff really is than I do of keeping my heart intact.
CHAPTER 1
VINCENT
“Is that you, Biscuit?” screams a blonde no taller than a couple of Coke bottles stacked on top of each other. “I can’t believe you’re home! Finally!” The woman throws herself into the arms of the six-foot brick house next to me. His good reflexes, the ones that saved my life about nine months ago, kick in, and he catches her.
“Biscuit?” I mouth over the blonde’s head. That nickname is a new one. I’m used to calling the tawny-haired seaman Frank, which isn’t his name. It’s Benson Charles, which no one in my unit ever used because that is the name of some dog that wears pink bows and shoes, not for an officer who can hike twenty miles a day carrying a hundred pounds of shit on his back.
Nah, we call him Frank because his head is square like Frankenstein. Never in my time with him in the squad did I ever hear the name Biscuit.
Frank avoids my gaze and directs his attention to the girl in his arms. “Hey, Melody. Good to see you, too.”
“Good to see you?” She squirms out of his arms. “That’s all you gotta say to me?” Before Frank can react, the palm of her hand is whipping his face to the right. For a tiny thing, she’s got some power. She storms off, more like a tornado than a sweet song.
“What happened here?” I ask.
“Me being a dumbass,” Frank mutters. The tips of his ears are red, and there’s some color on his cheekbones. If we were back in the unit, I might give him more hell, but since we’re in his hometown and he saved my life, I keep it to myself.
“Let’s get a drink, eh? I’m parched.” I use my height and size to part the crowd and make my way to the bar. Beside me, Frank does the same. We reach the bar at the same time.
“Biscuit!” The bartender raises his hand for a high-five.
Frank grimaces slightly but slaps the hand in front of him anyway. “I need two beers. One for me and one for my squad mate, Vincent.”
I reach in my back pocket for my wallet, but Frank shakes his head. “Nah, Tom won’t take a dime from us.”
“That’s right,” chimes the bartender, grinning behind his unruly '90s-era pornstache. “Can’t be charging Biscuit and his buddies drinks. That’s against the rules, and don’t ask me what rules. They’re the rules up here.” He taps the side of his head. “It’s all karmic balance and shit. My old lady did me a card reading the other day and said my chakras are out of balance, so I’m getting them straightened out by not charging Frank and you for drinks. Don’t mess me up now.”
“Got it.” I take the frosty mug from Tom and tip it in his direction. “To healthy chakras. May your Virgo sun rise.”
Tom beams. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, do you?”
“No clue,” I admit.
He bellows a laugh. “You got a good one, Biscuit.”
“You can call me Frank, if you want, Tom. Biscuit’s kind of an old name, ain’t it?”
“Nah, you’ll always be Biscuit to me.”
“Don’t mess up his chakras by suggesting otherwise,” I add.
Frank glares at me over his own mug of beer. “You gonna be like this all week?”
“Yup. You gonna tell me what’s the deal back there?” I tilt my head toward the entrance where Frank got slapped.
“With Melody?” He rubs his thumb across his cheek.
“Yeah.”
“I guess she’s mad because she was writing me and shit.”
I nearly drop my beer on the counter. “What in the hell?”
Frank’s flush deepens, spreading from his ears down to his neck. “I’m no good with women, you know? What am I supposed to say to her? Like the first thing that comes out of my mouth earns me a slap. Besides, just cuz she’s writing to me don’t mean she’s that interested.”
“That wasn’t the slap of a disinterested woman, Frank.”
“She named me Biscuit when I was ten, and that’s all anyone calls me now.”
“Okay, you have a point there, but she was also mad as hell that you didn’t say something sweet to her. Make her know she was wanted. That her efforts in letter writing weren’t for nothing.”
“I kinda want to take my time.”
“Why? What’re you waiting for? Your signs to be aligned or some shit?”
“Are you telling me that you would rush into things? You spent the entire time in the squad keeping your dick zipped so tight that the guys were thinking about renaming you Catholic.”
“I just haven’t found the one, but once I do, I’ll take her, no matter what.” My eyes fall on a bright head in the middle of the room. I can’t see anything but the crown of her head, but her copper penny hair shines in the midst of the crowd like a treasure in the middle of a dusty cavern. Something deep inside me stirs, like a dragon seeing a priceless object for the first time. “If I see something I want, I’m gonna go for it.” I keep my eyes pinned on the head as I drain my beer. When I hit the bottom of the mug, I let it drop to the counter and get to my feet.
Before I can move, though, there’s a big paw pushing me back. I look down at Frank’s hand and then up to his face. “What’s going on?”
“You looking at my sister?” he asks, and his tone isn’t questioning. It’s belligerent.
“Your…sister?” I think back to all of Frank’s photos, and not one of them had a redhead in it.
“Remember when I was bleeding from taking that bullet that was meant for you and I made you promise that if anything happened to me, you’d come to my home and take care of my sister for the rest of her life, and that you’d make sure that no asshole would touch her or hurt her?”
“Yeah, I remember.” The dragon inside me paces. He doesn’t like what he’s hearing.
“You reneging on that promise?” Frank’s square chin juts out.
“No.”
“Then sit your ass back down on the stool and never look at her again because that’s my baby sister, and she’s off-limits.”
CHAPTER 2
EMMA
The second I spotted an angry Melody rush past me, I knew my brother was back in town. He was due back at any time, but details are always so vague when he gives them to me, which I understand. I’ve gotten used to it when it comes to him.
He’s not hard to spot inside the bar as I try and make my way over to him. He and the man with him tower over everyone else. Whoever the man is, he has taken my brother's title of being the biggest man in town. He’s pretty easy on the eyes as well.
“Emma, can you look at this?”
Pratt steps in front of me, blocking my line of sight to my brother. Unfortunately, I’m nowhere near as tall as my brother. He stole all the tall genes and left none for me.
“Don’t do it,” I say as Pratt starts to pull back a bandage on his arm to show me a clearly infected wound. It never fails. Every time I’m out, there’s always someone that wants to ask me about an ailment or show me something that I don’t necessarily want to see. But I guess that comes with being an EMT and living in a small town. “The hell? You need to get over to Doc. That’s infected, dummy.”
“You don’t have to call me names,” he huffs. I reach up and place the back of my hand to his forehead, and sure enough he has a temp.
“Then don’t be a dumbass, and I won’t have to call you one. Get over to Doc’s office now. Looks like you may have cellulitis, and it appears to be spreading. He might be able to give you an antibiotic or he might send you to the hospital for an IV—”
“An I V!?” The eyes of the six-foot cowboy that I’ve seen wrestle steers before widen in fear. I always find it funny how many men are afraid of tiny needles. It’s usually the biggest and baddest of them that are the most fearful. Pratt is good at running his family farm, which is only him and his mom now, but he is not always the brightest when it comes to other things.
“He might try oral antibiotics first. But I’m guessing with the way that looks and the low-grade fever you have, you might be heading into the city hospital.”
“Maybe it’s fine. It’ll probably heal up on its own.” He starts to cover the wound back up.
“It’s not fine. Your mama is going to be calling me at three in the morning because you’re unconscious with a fever, and then I’ll have to haul your ass to the city where you’ll be getting more than an IV if you don’t get that under control. Like an amputation.” That should do it. Usually I don’t like to alarm people, but with Pratt I know that I need to go with the worst case scenario just so he’ll go see Doc Harlow.
“Go!” I shout at him. He jumps and takes off out of the bar. I pull out my phone and text Doc Harlow to let him know to see Pratt now. I’m a freaking EMT, not a doctor, but you’d think otherwise with the crap people around town will stop and ask me.
I slip my way through the crowd, finally making it to my brother, who is now in the face of the man I was sure he’d brought home with him. He alluded that he might have company with him. I’d made up the guest room, but now I’m not so sure that was a good idea since the two of them look like they’re about to brawl.
“Can we not do whatever this is? Cause I’m on call today, and if you rough each other up, it will be me carting your asses to the hospital,” I say, not wanting to see these two come to blows. I’ve never met a man I didn’t think my brother could easily take down. This man is different. I can sense it. It would be a bloodbath.
“We’re fine, just coming to an understanding,” my brother says. His words come out easily, but I catch the edge to them. He drops his hand from the man's chest and steps back to engulf me in a hug. I wrap my arms around his neck, my feet leaving the floor. I’ve missed him so much.
I can’t help but peek over his shoulder, though. I finally get a good look at the other man. Piercing blue eyes meet mine. With his black as night hair and tanned skin, it really makes them shine. My breath hitches and not because of how tightly my brother is hugging me. My eyes stay locked with the other man until my brother finally puts me back on my feet so I can no longer see him. It really stinks being this short.
“I missed you,” I tell him.
“I missed you, too, but it looks like there are some things you haven’t been keeping me up on.” He glances down at my uniform.
“That’s rich coming from you.” I shake my head. If anyone keeps secrets, it’s my brother. “Are you going to introduce me?” I change the subject away from my job. Biscuit steps to the side but throws his arm over my shoulder.
“Vincent, this is my little sister, Emma.” I hold my hand out. Vincent takes it, but now he’s not making any eye contact with me. His thumb, however, drifts back and forth against my wrist. The sensation lights something foreign inside of me. “You can let her hand go,” my brother all but growls.
Vincent drops my hand quickly. “You want a beer or something?” he asks, shifting on his feet.
“Can’t. I’m on call.” I point to the badge pinned to my buttoned-up uniform shirt that reads EMT.
“When did that even happen? I thought you were working the front desk at Doc Harlow’s office.”
“It was boring.” I shrug. Not that this job has a ton of action. My partner Sam and I spend a lot of time parked at random places waiting for calls that are few and far between. Most of the time, they're actually a bit silly. You’d be surprised how many people think an ambulance is a taxi service.
One time, Edith Malone called 911 saying she needed help immediately before hanging up. Of course, we all rushed over to her home, thinking the absolute worst. It can be a mix to who shows up first to a call. The fire department might beat us sometimes. When we got there, she was pointing at her microwave, worried it was going to blow up because she’d hit so many keys trying to set the time on it. So of course I set the time and left. That was the most action I’d seen in two days.
“There’s nothing wrong with boring.” My brother folds his arms over his chest.
He’s not completely wrong. I get a lot of reading done while sitting in the ambulance. As my eyes flick over to Vincent, I can’t help but think that maybe things are going to be a whole lot less boring now. Especially with him staying under the same roof as me every night.
CHAPTER 3
VINCENT
“It’s not fancy, but it’s clean. Mom’s a stickler for that. You can eat off the floors here.” Frank rubs his socked foot against the wood floor. His mom met us at the door with a pair of slippers and an unspoken order for the boots to be left in the mudroom.
“No telling what you have on those soles,” she’d tsked.
I’ve worn those shitkickers everywhere, so she was right to make me take them off. “If I can’t find a plate around here, I’ll just use the old oak platter.”
“You’re a real smartass.” He makes a mock fist and shakes it in my direction. “The shower is next door, but the water pressure is shit. If someone else is using the john upstairs, you’re SOL.”
“How do I know if it’s safe to clean up?”
“Dunno. Never stayed down here.”
“How do you know the pressure is shit?”
He shrugs. “Had to clean up a few times.”
“Melody?”
He shrugs again. I guess she, like his sister, is off-limits. No wonder this is the first invite I’ve received to Frank’s place despite knowing him for a half decade.
“I’ll let you, dunno, take a breather while I go help my dad with the lawn mower. He said it’s broken, but that’s just code for I haven’t seen you in five months so come and shoot the shit with me.”
“Got it.” I give Frank a mock salute. After he leaves, I unpack my T-shirts and jeans and set them inside the dresser. I’m staying for a week and don’t want to live out of a suitcase, or in my case, a duffle bag. That takes all of five seconds. The room is sparse with a big bed covered in a green and white quilt. There’s an oak nightstand with a lamp. Inside the closet, I find an assortment of winter coats, empty hangers, and some toys. One of them is a plastic med kit. Out of curiosity, I pop the latch. Everything is intact except the stethoscope.
“I have that upstairs in my desk drawer,” drawls a sweet voice.
I turn to see Miss Off Limits herself standing at the doorway. “Guess you were always meant to be an EMT.”
“Yeah. The stethoscope actually works. I used to take everyone’s heartbeat. My mom. Dad. Biscuit. Even the mailman.”
I open my mouth to tell her she can take mine and then remember Bisc—I mean, Frank’s warning. He might view that as too flirtatious, and he wouldn’t be wrong. There’s something about Emma that fires up my neurons. I get the same rush of adrenaline when I’m inside the jet pushing the G-force limit. That point where you’re right at the edge of danger but want to see how far you can go before exploding. For an excitement junkie like me, she’s a drug that I shouldn’t take. I’ll get addicted, want more, and won’t be able to do anything about it.
“You need anything?” I ask, curt and a little mean.
Her eyes narrow, and there’s a flash of hurt in them before she shields her gaze with her lashes. “Mom sent me down with these.”
She pushes a pile of towels toward me that I hadn’t realized she’d been holding before. I was too busy memorizing her face. Her copper-colored hair looks more brown outside of the sun, and her hazel-green eyes have an inner glow. Her cheeks are round, and her nose has a straight slope to it. Her lips are redder in the center than at the corners as if she often nibbles on the middle of her lips. Completely understandable. I want to bite them too.
