Free Love Charm for Carlotta (A Short Story in the Love Charm Series) by Carly Carson Page A

tumultuous time when Jace was the
center of her existence. She never wanted to go back to it.
    "Carlotta!" His deep voice boomed through the
house and she heard his self-assurance, his zest for life, and the poignant
memories of her first love—all wrapped up in one word—her name.
    And twining through the memories was the sharp, bitter, edge
of pain, a pointed needle scraping through her flesh.
    "Carlotta! Let me in." A brief
pause. "Please."
    A spring breeze, fresh with the scent of the sea, blew the
white, dotted Swiss curtains at the kitchen window. She welcomed the clean May
wind, praying it would cool the heat that washed over her body every time she
heard his voice.
    "I know you're in there, Carlotta." He wasn't
angry, but rather amused. He didn't think she could withstand him.
    "Do you still leave the door unlocked?" he
hollered.
    She stiffened. Of course the door was unlocked. She'd never
gotten out of the habit, even though she knew it was foolish to be so careless,
even on the Vineyard.
    She had a key now, which her parents never had, but she
forgot about it more often than not.
    "I know the door is unlocked, Carlotta, because I know
you," he called out. "I'm going to open it now."
    She couldn't hear the handle turn from in here, but she
could imagine it. She could picture him walking in, his tall figure dwarfing
the low-ceilinged living room, his boots loud on the hardwood floor.
    She should retreat, escape. Her eyes darted to the back
door—
    Too late.
    "Carlotta." He strode through the short hallway
and burst into her kitchen.
    She had to look at him. No mortal, nor goddess, could have
withstood the temptation.
    There he stood, six feet tall, brawny, with smooth muscles
pressing up against his short-sleeved t-shirt. As always, his dark blonde hair
had been caressed by the wind, and his strong, even features had only improved
with age.
    His blue eyes smiled at her. "I've come back for
you."
    Her heart stuttered.
    But her voice was colder than the breeze when she said,
"Get out."
    "Ouch." He stood his ground. "Twelve years is
a long time to hold a grudge."
    "I'll call the cops."
    "Carlotta." He shook his head in mock sorrow.
"You know the chief is one of my best friends."
    "Was, you mean." Her brows snapped together.
"It's been a long time since high school."
    "You underestimate me, honey bun." Two strides and
he'd moved close enough for her to smell his familiar scent of leather, engine
oil, and man. "Even as we speak," he said, "the chief's wife is
scouring the island for a house for me. You remember Annie Dupuis, don't
you?"
    Of course she remembered Annie, a perky soccer player in
high school, and one of the Vineyard's top realtors today.
    But Annie wasn't important right now.
    "You!" she scoffed. "You're going to buy a
house? Where would you come up with the down payment, never mind the monthly
mortgage?"
    Money slipped through his hands like sea water through a
sieve. Granted, he was the most generous person she'd ever known. She knew for
a fact he'd bought prom tickets for some of his hockey buddies who didn't have
the spare cash. Not that Jace had ever had more money than the rest of them.
But if he had a few extra bucks, he was happy to toss them in the path of
anyone he perceived as needy.
    She shut off her thoughts. She couldn't afford to think of
him in any positive way. She had to be strong.
    "I'm not a high school kid, Carlotta." He managed
to look slightly wounded. "I have assets."
    She continued kneading her dough. "Are you here to
brag, then?"
    "I told you." He peered into her bowl. "I'm
here for you."
    "I don't know what that means." She pounded the
dough. "I'm not available to be picked up like a shell on the shore."
    "I know you're not married." He plucked an
unfrosted cupcake off the cooling rack, peeled back the paper, and bit off half
of it.
    "Hey! Those are for Tommy Rosen's eighth birthday
party!"
    "You don't mean as in Tom and Amy Rosen?" He
raised his brows.
    "Why not?"
    "Amy wouldn't