Naughty Stranger (Dangerous Love 1)

“I wanted to help him. He was going to kill himself if this didn’t turn around.”

“So you saved him, but destroyed me?” Boone shot back, knowing his career would never recover. No one would look at him the same. He was damn lucky they weren’t pressing charges against him, and he could still be a cop. But that only happened because Boone had a record of being a good cop. Still didn’t mean he’d ever be a cop with the NYPD again. He knew they’d want him gone.

Chelsea’s voice hitched, her hands reached for him, but he leaned away. “I love you, Boone,” she cried. “I never would have done something to hurt you. I needed to help Scott. That’s all. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Boone leaned in close to the woman he loved even now…even after she burned him, and growled, “Whatever love we had is gone, Chelsea,” he said, making himself believe that. He glanced to the Fed and nodded.

Her eyes widened. “What’s happening? Boone?” She gasped when the Fed took her by the arm, forcing her to her feet. “Boone!”

He turned away as the Fed said, “Chelsea Knight, you’re under arrest…”

Boone blinked, pulling himself out the cold memory that he’d tried so damn hard to forget but never could. “Chelsea,” he said, feeling numb at seeing her.

“You must be surprised that I’m here,” she said, holding on to the purse around her shoulder.

“That’s an understatement,” was his tight reply.

She swayed from side to side, nibbling her lip, avoiding his gaze. “I wasn’t sure if I would see you.” She finally looked at him. “I needed to come into town to sign the closing documents on Uncle Jeremy’s house.”

Her uncle passed about a year ago. He supposed everything was only finalizing now. “You flew all the way here for that?”

“I don’t live in New York City anymore.” Something very close to hurt crossed her expression. She glanced at her feet, obviously pained that he clearly didn’t look into her life these past two years. “I’ve actually lived in Whitby Falls since…”

Since I got out of jail. She’d spent a couple weeks in jail since she couldn’t bail herself out, then once her case went to trial, she got community service. But he was momentarily struck that

she lived only an hour away all this time.

Her eyes searched his, but the soul in their depths was unrecognizable to him now. “Do I have any right to ask how you’re doing?” she asked softly.

The raw sadness bled in her expression. Pain he recognized, pain that had stared back at him in the mirror for years. Thing was, he began to pity her. He’d regained his strength and his life. It became blindly clear she hadn’t. “Things are good. Kinsley and Dad are also good.”

“Good. Yeah, great to hear.” She gave him a small smile that never reached her eyes, while her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip.

Boone’s two feet were planted against the pavement, his bike a welcome weight beneath him. His fingers were tight resting on his thighs. He stayed silent, not helping her, not even sure he had anything to say to her.

She finally looked up again through her lashes. “I know you must hate me.”

Maybe it was the shakiness in her voice, her curled shoulders, or maybe it was all because of Peyton and this incredible thing he had going on now, but he wasn’t the guy who left Chelsea at the station two years ago. “I don’t hate you,” he told her, surprised by how easily he said those words.

Her eyes widened.

Knowing this was his shot to say all the things he never said before, he admitted, “You wanted to save your brother, I get that now, even though I didn’t back then.”

She took a step closer, softening and reminding him of the Chelsea he cared about for a very long time. “I’m sorry, Boone.” Her voice cracked; her eyes got teary. “I’m sorry that what I did hurt you. I’m sorry for all of it. And I’m sorry it’s taken me two years to show up and say all that to you.”

Something in his chest splintered and instead of hurting like it once did, warmth filled him. Because through Peyton, he saw now that life was short, too short. She’d lost everything and fought for her happiness. Just because one life ended, didn’t mean one another one couldn’t begin. “We both did things we weren’t proud of back then.” And leaving Chelsea there in the station alone and scared, no matter how much he’d been hurt, would never make him proud.

She snorted, wiping a tear quickly off her cheek. “Yeah, but the things I did were just a little bit more illegal than yours.”

“But still equally as damaging.” He paused, knowing he had to get this right. “I should have cared more, done better, regardless of what unfolded. Not all of this is on you, Chelsea.”

Another tear spilled down her cheek. “I should have picked you, not Scott.”

And there it was, he felt it right there in the parking lot, years of heartbreak were suddenly gone. Once there was a deep love there between them. Then there was only pain. And now there was just the realization that they had their moment, but that moment wasn’t meant to last. There were a thousand what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, but there was one truth that remained steady and strong.

Peyton.

She was all that mattered now.