The Accidental Encore

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Authors: Christy Hayes

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The Accidental Encore

By Christy Hayes

Amazon Edition

Text Copyright © Christy Hayes

All Rights Reserved

 

The characters portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by
the author. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without prior
written consent of the author.

 

Amazon Edition, License Notes

 

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like
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copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

The Accidental Encore

 

Long after crushing heartbreak turned Craig Archer away from
women, beautiful piano teacher Allie Graves becomes his lifeline when he’s left
for two weeks to watch his twelve-year-old niece and all hell breaks loose.
Their unlikely friendship fuels an attraction they both attempt to stifle.

Ever the optimist, Allie continues her search for love
despite a disastrous relationship and a string of bad dates. She never expects
to be tempted by a guy like Craig; he’s rude, crude, and his rough edges are
sharp enough to draw blood.

The sparks from their smoldering attraction threaten to
ignite a tortured past Craig has worked hard to smother. Allie’s fears that a
relationship with Craig will end in heartbreak are about to come true when an
accident forces an encore that will make or break their chance for a future.

 

 

Table of Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

Chapter
9

Chapter
10

Chapter
11

Chapter
12

Chapter
13

Chapter
14

Chapter
15

Chapter
16

Chapter
17

Chapter
18

Chapter
19

Chapter
20

Chapter
21

Chapter
22

Chapter
23

Chapter
24

Chapter
25

Chapter
26

Chapter
27

Chapter
28

Chapter
29

Chapter
30

Chapter
31

Chapter
32

Chapter
33

Chapter
34

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Allie Graves pried her lids open slowly as tears began
leaking around the edges of her eyes. She lifted her hand when she felt
something dripping down her face and was relieved to discover the liquid in
question was the diet coke she’d just bought, not blood. The beat from the song
on the radio had her reaching for the volume button to dim the sound. The
airbag lay like a limp balloon in her lap.

“Hey, lady?” a voice called from outside her closed window.
She looked over as if in a dream and, with the press of a button, rolled the
window down. “You okay?” the stranger asked.

Was she okay? She wiggled her toes, lifted her knees, and
made the mistake of nodding. Her head felt like it was going to explode. The
burning in her eyes lessened as the cool autumn air floated into her car. “How
bad is it?” she asked.

“Your car?” The guy walked around to the front bumper and
scrunched up his face before returning to her window and leaning down so they
were eye to eye. “It’s gonna need some work.”

Great.

“But not as much as the guy you hit.”

“What?” She tried to undo her seat belt and exit the car.
She’d hit someone. Oh, God. What if he didn’t survive? What if she’d critically
injured another driver? The man held her door in place when she attempted to
get out.

“You’d better stay put.” He pointed with his head toward a
black pickup truck with a dent in the driver side door. A man with blood
running down the side of his face kicked the tire and scowled in her direction.
“He’s out, and he’s mad as hell.”

“But he hit me,” Allie whimpered. “My light was green.” She
shoved her door open, ready to explain, when her world began to tip.

“Whoa, lady,” was the last thing she heard before everything
went black.

***

Craig Archer limped toward the bimbo who’d t-boned his car
and noted with disgust that she’d collapsed into the arms of the guy who’d
helped him out of his truck. Figured. Damn woman driver didn’t know a red light
from green. And he’d just had his truck washed.

The man eased her onto the street and hovered over her,
blocking Craig’s view. It was just as well she passed out. He would have made
her cry. Everything about the scene brought back memories, too fast and too
painful to acknowledge. So instead of concern for her well being, Craig loathed
the woman for bringing his worst nightmare to life in living color.

Had Julie or Becca understood their fate before they hit the
pole? Did they have time to feel scared? Or had it happened as the police
explained to him and Mark, quick and deadly, without warning, without a chance
to evade? He shook away the memories as the uniformed cop approached, eyeing
the cut on Craig’s temple.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there.” He pointed to Craig’s
forehead with a ballpoint pen. “Why don’t you have a seat on the curb?
Ambulance will be here in just a minute.”

“I’m fine,” Craig repeated. No way was he going to the
hospital for some stupid scratch.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the officer asked as he
clicked his pen and opened a palm-sized folder.

“She hit me. Ran the damn red light and plowed right into my
truck.”

“So your light was green?”

“Green as your partner over there hyperventilating by the
lady.”

The officer glanced over his shoulder and noted the rookie
wiping sweaty hands on his pants as he interviewed the bystander. “She told
that guy her light was green.”

“Then you might want to do a Breathalyzer or a vision test
when she comes to.”

The officer looked back at Craig. “Can anyone here
corroborate your story?”

“During Atlanta rush hour?” Craig snorted.
 
“We’re lucky no one’s weaving through
the scene.”

“What about that guy?” the officer asked, pointing to the
man who’d helped him after the crash.

“I don’t know where he came from.”

The officer let out a sigh and pointed with his pen to the
curb. “Have a seat, Mr.?”

“Archer.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Archer. I’ll be right back.”

Craig watched him saunter toward the other party, speak to
the man who’d helped both him and the lady, and then listen to the rookie. He
kneaded the back of his neck and hoped like hell the man saw the light because
the last thing he wanted was a drawn out legal battle on top of the annoyance
of having to have his truck repaired.

The lady came to just as the ambulance arrived. She tried to
stand up, but the EMTs brought out the stretcher and forced her to lie down. He
wondered if she’d passed out for show or if she was really injured. She didn’t
look any worse for wear. Her shoulder length blonde hair and face were covered
in white powder from the airbag and her clothes seemed splashed with some kind
of liquid. She’d have to replace her bumper, maybe a side panel or two, nothing
like the damage to his truck. Stupid woman.

The officer walked back after they’d loaded her into the
ambulance. “She’s going to the hospital to get checked out. We’ll run some
tests while she’s there, but she insists her light was green.”

“Figures.”

“The guy works at the drycleaner. He didn’t see a thing.”

“So it’s my word against hers?”

The officer tapped his pen against his leg. “Appears that
way. I’ll need to see your license and registration.”

Craig stood up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“And you’re going to get your head looked at.”

“It’s fine,” Craig muttered.

“Fine or not, we’ll just have a look. There’s another EMT on
the—just pulling up now. We can do it here or at the hospital.”

Too bad Craig hadn’t gotten the rookie. “Here. I’m not going
to the hospital.”

“And I’ll need to do some tests on you as well, Mr. Archer.”
At Craig’s pointed stare, the officer grinned. “As much for your sake as mine.”

“You won’t find anything.”

“Good. I don’t want to have to bring you in. This report is
going to be headache enough.”

Craig handed the officer his license and the truck’s registration.
“How are you going to write this up?”

The officer scribbled on a pad. “Depends on what we find.
Since you’re both saying the light was green, we’ll have to do an
investigation.”

“So I won’t be able to file a claim until after the
investigation?”

“You can file, Mr. Archer, but the police report won’t be
ready until the investigation is complete.”

Great. Just what he didn’t need.

Stupid woman.

 

Chapter 2

Leah Archer opened her front door and scowled at the man
limping up the walk. “What happened to you?” she asked. He growled something
she couldn’t understand and pushed past her into the house. “And where’s your
truck?” She shut the door and turned to face her uncle.

“Where’s your dad?” he asked.

Leah pointed to the ceiling. “Packing.” She folded her arms
across her chest. “Are you going to answer my questions?”

“You going to quit unless I do?”

“Nope,” she said. She loved annoying her Uncle Craig, mostly
because it didn’t take much work at all. She followed him into the den and
watched him ease onto the couch.

“I got in a wreck, which is why I have a Band-Aid on my
forehead and why I’m limping. The truck’s in the shop.”

“Does dad know you were in a wreck?”

They both turned when her dad appeared at the base of the
stairs. “You were in a wreck?” Mark asked.

Uncle Craig looked at Leah and lifted one brow. She loved it
when he did that.
 
“He does now.”

Mark rushed into the room and stood peering down at Craig.
“Are you hurt?”

Uncle Craig snorted. “I got a scratch on my head and banged
my knee pretty good, but other than that, I’m fine. Wish I could say the same
for my truck.”

“Is it totaled?”

“No, but the whole damn side has to be replaced.”

“What happened?” Leah asked as she took a seat next to her
uncle. Her dad stared at his brother, his face pinched with worry. Leah
couldn’t stand to see her dad upset. Craig must have noticed her dad’s reaction
because he shrugged his shoulders as if the whole thing were no big deal.

“Woman driver ran a red light and speared me.” He looked at
Leah and smiled. “Your gender has serious issues behind the wheel.”

“My gender takes great offense to your attitude.”

“Take offense all you want, sweetheart, it doesn’t change
the facts.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” her dad asked. His hands were
clenched into fists and his face looked pale.

Craig smiled so big even his dimples showed. He hardly ever
showed his dimples. “I’m fine, Mark. So when are you heading out?”

Leah hopped up and grabbed her dad’s hand. “Their flight
leaves in four hours,” she said. She’d been counting down since she’d woken up
that morning. Two weeks with her uncle sounded like paradise after the last few
days. “You’d better light a fire under Carolyn, Dad. You know how you hate to
be late to the airport.”

Her dad stared at Craig for another minute before twisting
to face his daughter. “The fire’s been lit. She’s almost ready.”

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