Fallen Into You

  FALLEN INTO YOU

  by

  ANN COLLINS

  Fallen Into You. 1st Edition

  Copyright © 2014

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously.

  All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  A Note from Ann

  Chapter One

  “Let me help you,” the voice said.

  Kara spun with the wrench in her hand, crying out in surprise. The man standing above her took two long steps back. He held up his hands. “Whoa! I come in peace!”

  The rain had let up the slightest bit, but she still had to squint to see him through the gray mist. Night was falling fast, and here she was, out in the middle of nowhere with a car that might be a lost cause. And now she also had to worry about dealing with a complete stranger.

  She stared at him for another moment before she realized what she must look like. She lowered the wrench. “I’m sorry.”

  The man nodded toward her car. “You banged her up pretty bad. You okay?”

  Kara dropped the wrench to the wet ground and braced herself on the car. She stood up slowly, her knees smarting and her head pounding. She looked at the front of the car, at the way the nose edged into the ditch, only a few feet away from the massive tree that had fallen over the road. She had been driving home through the downpour, easily taking the curves on this road she had known all her life, but then she came around one of them and there was the tree.

  She remembered braking hard and swerving even harder, but after that things were a little fuzzy. Now she stood in the pouring rain and wondered what the hell she was doing. Trying to change a tire? The windshield was cracked, the airbag had gone off and the car was in a ditch, for God’s sake. Even if she got the tire changed and somehow reversed out of there, how was she going to move that tree?

  In fact, thinking about it, she didn’t remember much of anything after making that last curve. She looked again at the spidery crack in the windshield.

  “I’m not sure,” she said slowly, touching her forehead. It was wet there – but was it rain or blood? The world began to spin, but the man in the rain rushed forward and put his strong arms around her before she went down.

  “Easy,” he said. “I think you hit your head. Let’s sit down, okay?”

  Kara sat down in the middle of the road. The water immediately soaked through her suit pants. Her coat was already soaked. She found that she didn’t care one bit, actually – she just stared at the tree.

  “I almost hit that,” she said. “I almost ran right into that.”

  “But you didn’t.” The man gave her car a cursory glance. “This car will have to be towed.”

  “I tried to call someone,” she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Rain dripped from it as he took it. She watched as he cleaned it with the end of his shirt and looked at the screen. “There’s no reception,” she said.

  “Mine isn’t working either,” he said. “It stopped about an hour ago.”

  The rain suddenly picked up again, a deluge that stung her skin where it hit. The man stood up and reached for her with both hands. “Come on, stand up,” he said, yelling to be heard over the roar. “Let’s get out of this.”

  Kara tottered on her high heels as she held onto both his hands and rose to her feet. She let him lead her to the battered truck and up into the passenger seat, where she dripped all over the old upholstery. From somewhere he produced towels, which she wrapped around her hair and used to pat her clothes, still rather stunned by the turn of events.

  It had been a typical day at the bank. There had been more people than usual going through the ATM line, the typical reaction to a dire weather forecast. She had left the bank in a downpour, but it was nothing out of the ordinary for this time of year. She had thought the forecasters were wrong, but then suddenly things took a turn for the worse. The noise was deafening, the rain was so heavy she could barely see her headlights and the darkness was ominous in a way that she couldn’t explain.

  And ten minutes later, she was in the ditch.

  Now she looked at the stranger as he climbed into the car beside her. He shook his whole body like a dog, sending water flying everywhere. He removed his cap, revealing dark hair in sore need of a cut. There was stubble on his face and his shirt had seen better days. He turned to her with worry in his brown eyes and gave her a tentative smile.

  Despite the situation, Kara couldn’t help but notice that this guy was absolutely smoking hot.

  “Better now?”

  Kara nodded. She put a hand to her forehead. The pounding there was easing up, despite the continuous drumming of the rain on the top of the truck. Her knees hurt something fierce, but when she looked back at her car and thought about what might have been, she decided she’d actually got off lightly.

  “Could have been worse,” the man said, reading her mind. “You were really lucky, you know that?”

  The shock of it suddenly sank in, and Kara began to tremble. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward, then back, rocking slowly. The man reached out and touched her shoulder. “Hey, listen – you’re okay. You’re fine. You’re safe, I promise. Do you hear me?”

  Kara nodded slowly, getting herself under control. The last thing she wanted to do was burst into tears in front of this guy. “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “We’ll call highway patrol and report the tree down,” he said. “Then I will have the car towed back to my shop. It’s going to take more than a tire change to get it running again. I don’t have any help out there tonight – it’s Friday, and with this storm I sent everybody home early.”

  “Your shop?” she asked, her mind finally clearing a bit.

  “I’m a mechanic,” he said.

  They looked at each other for a moment, both of them thinking. He was the first one to break the silence. “Where’s home?” he asked.

  She nodded toward the wrecked car. “Beyond that tree.”

  “Any other way around?”

  She thought about it for a moment and slowly shook her head. “Yes, but you have to get on the bypass…it’s a good twenty-minute drive. In this rain…an hour.”

  The man nodded. “My house is right down the road. I’m going to take you there and let you get cleaned up. You can call someone from my phone – I have a landline. And I can call highway patrol…”

  Kara laughed and he looked at her, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “Do you really think I’m going anywhere?” she asked, shaking her head and laughing some more. “You just assume that I’m going to drive away with a complete stranger. A man who just appeared out of the blue? Give me a bit more credit than that.”

  He looked at the windshield for a moment, and then nodded. “Fair enough. You can go back to your car and sit there while I go to my cozy house and call highway patrol.”

  Kara put her hand on the door handle and paused there, trying to think things through. The roar was just as violent as ever. She didn’t want to go out in that, but even if she did, the man’s matter-of-fact attitude made her hesitat
e.

  “I assume you have some water in your car, maybe a snack?” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a folded blanket that looked clean and warm. “Take this. I keep it around for emergencies, and this seems to qualify.”

  Kara reached out to take the blanket. She suddenly felt guilty. “Thank you.”

  “There’s a flashlight in the glove compartment,” he said. “Take that too.”

  She made no move to reach for it. “I’m sorry,” Kara murmured. “I know you’re just trying to help me.”

  “Never take candy from strangers, right?”

  She smiled. “Right.”

  “I understand. I really do.”

  He was looking at her with such an open and honest face. He wasn’t trying to talk her into staying with him, and that alone made it clear that he wasn’t a serial killer. Or a rapist. Kara reached for the door handle again, but then she changed her mind and settled back into the seat.

  “Can you…can you give me a minute? I’m just shaken up.”

  The man suddenly laughed, a sound tinged with relief. “Hell, I was shaken up to come around that corner and see you there. This is one hell of a storm, and then there’s a beautiful woman and a crashed car and a fallen tree right in front of my headlights. This is not the way I expected my Friday night would go!”

  Kara smiled. “That makes two of us,” she said, even as she was thinking about what he had said. A beautiful woman.

  They sat in the drumming rain for long moments, not speaking or even looking at each other. Finally Kara sighed. “I really am sorry,” she said. “And if you would still be kind enough to get me out of this weather, I would appreciate the help.”

  The man gave her a smile that lit up his whole face. He looked younger when he smiled, and friendlier, and one hell of a lot sexier. Kara tried to shake off that last thought, even as she admired the way he looked when he grinned like that.

  “Okay,” he said, all business again. “Let’s get out of this rain before any more trees come down to block the way.”

  He carefully reversed down the road until he came to a small shoulder, where he maneuvered back and forth to get the truck headed in the right direction. The trees whipped in the wind as they drove, and Kara watched as the man leaned over the steering wheel, keeping a close eye on all the potential debris that could fly at them. She found herself feeling entirely safe, even though this man was a complete stranger.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, speaking loudly to overcome the sound of the rain.

  “Anders Wallace,” he said, and gave her a quick grin. “What’s yours?”

  “Kara Dermot.”

  “I am very pleased to meet you,” he said. “Though the circumstances could be better, of course.”

  “Anders Wallace sounds very old-fashioned.” She paused, uncharacteristically flustered. “But I mean that in a very good way. It’s a handsome name.”

  His grin grew into a wide smile. “Thank you. My mother wanted to name me Anderson, but my father said he didn’t want a son named after a window.”

  Kara laughed. There was something about this man that intrigued her. Even in the midst of the storm, with a busted-up car and an aching body, with no idea what she should do next, here she was – laughing like a schoolgirl with a handsome man inside a strange truck, going to a strange house.

  It felt like an adventure.

  They pulled into a long driveway and stopped. That was really all that Kara could see, because the rain was still coming down so hard that she could barely see past the windshield. Anders turned the engine off and they sat there in the cab for a few moments, both of them staring at the impossible deluge right in front of them.

  “This is worse than the forecasters predicted,” Kara said.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a tornado,” he told her. “I heard sirens going off earlier.”

  “So did I. But I thought it was just a precaution…you know how those things are.”

  She watched the rain until he spoke again.

  “It’s a short walk up to the house, and then three steps to the porch. Do you feel okay enough to run it?”

  She considered the high heels, the pain in her knees. “Yes.”

  “Okay,” he said, and took a deep breath. She watched as he curled his hand around the door handle and hesitated, as if gathering courage. “Let’s go!”

  Kara stepped out into rain that took her breath away. It fell like needles on any bare skin, and soaked instantly through anything else. It was so powerful that she found it hard to breathe as she stumbled around the front of the truck. Strong hands were suddenly on her shoulders and the man was shouting in her ear. “Walk straight forward!”

  It seemed like an eternity, but they were finally under the porch, standing at the door. Kara looked back at the rain and was stunned that she couldn’t see the truck. Anders swung open the door and ushered her inside.

  The house was virtually silent compared to the sounds outside. Kara stood still for a moment, dripping on the entryway, listening. Anders touched her arm. “We need to get you out of those clothes.”

  Kara blinked. “What did you say?”

  Rather than backtrack and act gentlemanly, as she expected, Anders gave her a slow grin. “Under other circumstances, it would be sexy,” he said, his voice now low and sultry. “But under these circumstances, it’s just prudent.”

  She knew he was right – she was shivering.

  “Down the hallway, the first door to your right,” he said. “Everything you might need is in the little closet beside the sink. Get a really hot shower and I will find something suitable for you to wear.”

  The certainty in his tone was soothing. She carefully removed her heels, glancing at them only once – they were ruined. With another touch of guidance from his hand, she headed toward the bathroom. But before she got there, she turned and looked at him from under her dripping hair.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Anders smiled and nodded. “Go get warm.”

  Chapter Two

  Thirty minutes later, Kara emerged from the bathroom wearing an old flannel shirt that came down almost to her knees. She had stepped from the shower and saw it neatly folded on the counter. Obviously Anders had put it there, and that meant that he had come into the bathroom while she was showering. The thought of him standing there, looking at her through the sheer curtain, made her nervous. Why hadn’t she thought to lock the door? Maybe she should have stayed with her car after all.

  Anders was standing at the picture window at the front of the living room. He had changed clothes and now looked clean and fresh. Kara stopped for a moment and looked around the room, getting her bearings. The furniture had seen better days but definitely looked comfortable. The carpet was new, and so was the big television in the corner, but the coffee table had obviously seen years of good use. There were small pieces of art on the walls, bright pops of color on a dreary evening.

  Just as she was moving toward one for a better look, the lights went out.

  Kara froze. Anders cursed. She stayed right where she was, listening to his confident steps through the house. Soon there was a scrape, then another, then the blooming of a flame from an old-fashioned hurricane lamp. She watched the glow brighten as Anders put the glass chimney on top. Seeing it made her smile, because it already seemed like just the thing such a man would have handy for emergencies.

  “I wondered when that would happen,” he said. “The power lines out there are swaying like crazy.”

  Just then, Kara spied the phone on the table next to the couch. She picked it up and listened for a moment, then turned to Anders, her eyes wide with surprise. “The phones are dead.”

  “That’s impossible…it’s a landline!”

  Kara held the phone out to him and watched as he heard the silence. He carefully put the phone down on the cradle and then sank down on the couch. He had the look of someone who had just been dealt a huge surprise.

  “This is a re
ally bad storm,” she said, looking at the window, suddenly aware that there were trees and power lines and all sorts of debris that might be thrown around by the wind outside. She took a step back from that big pane of glass.

  “This house is sturdy,” he said. “No worries here, I promise.”

  Kara sat down beside him, careful to keep the flannel shirt down far enough to cover her. When she bent her knees all the way, she cried out with the sudden flare of pain. Anders was suddenly on the floor in front of her, his hands on her thighs, looking up into her face.

  “Where’s it hurt?” he demanded.

  Kara bit her lip hard and took a deep breath. “Knees,” she whispered.

  “Okay…okay.”

  He was gone in an instant, then back with a first aid kit. He popped it open and pulled out two white packages. She watched as he squeezed them hard in his hands. When he pressed them to her knees, she realized they were cold packs. She hissed at the coldness, but he held them there for a moment longer, watching her face.

  “Too cold?”

  She nodded.

  He instructed her to hold the packs, then made a quick trip to what she assumed was the kitchen. Sure enough, he came back with two faded, ragged dishtowels. He wrapped the dishtowels around the cold packs and placed them against her skin again. This time the sensation was heavenly.

  “You probably banged both knees against the dash when you crashed,” he said. “You might have bruising from the airbag later, or even the seat belt. Does anything else hurt?”

  “Just aches…nothing bad.”

  “Ibuprofen will help.”

  “You’ve got that too, huh?”

  He grinned and reached into the first aid kit, pulled out a small bottle and shook it. She recognized the sound of pills rattling around inside. “I was a boy scout in a former life. Always prepared.”