Gatlinburg Getaway (Destination: Desire) Read Online Free

sunglasses collided with Camille’s glasses, and Camille’s glasses went flying. She heard them bounce on the walkway and skitter across the concrete.
    Ah, shit. The lenses had a scratchproof coating, but if they’d been facedown for that, she doubted they were unscathed.
    “Crap!” She released her friend and turned to rescue her specs, though the world was a blur without them.
    Too late.
    A car pulled up in front of her and there was a nasty crunching noise.
    “ Dios mio !” Maria hurried past her and retrieved something from under the vehicle. She gingerly handed over a mangled mess of broken plastic and cracked polycarbonate lenses. “Camille, I’m so sorry.”
    She couldn’t summon a single word, just stood there with her mouth hanging open, staring at the crushed remains of her specs.
    No. That had not just happened. It had not.
    Realization dawned with sickening intensity—her spare pair of glasses had been in the same drawer as her fold-up cane. Because Nora had grabbed it, she hadn’t automatically taken the spare specs like Camille would have.
    She couldn’t see a thing and she had no glasses.
    It was official. This trip sucked ass.
    * * * * *
    Dalton sat at his desk, frowning at his computer, trying to rein in his annoyance. He would rather be outside in the sunshine, going for a run, driving his Jeep with the hard top off and the music cranked up, or just about anything other than stuck in a small, lifeless, white-walled room. Of course, his cousins would tell him that painting his office and adding a plant might help, but he’d managed to ignore both their jibes and their decorating tips for several years now. Might as well keep on with his winning streak, if only to irritate them.
    Sighing, he gave in to the inevitable and focused on his work. It was his own fault for cutting out early the day before to meet up with some friends to watch the local minor league baseball team get their asses kicked. He’d left paperwork undone, and he’d rather not have to face the pile next week. It was easier to handle it when the office was quiet.
    Immersing himself in patient records, he updated files with notes from his exams the day before, went over inventory lists, and caught up on email. His muscles were starting to protest from sitting in one place for so long, but it was worth it to get everything squared away.
    When the phone rang, he picked it up automatically before he remembered the office was closed for the long holiday weekend.
    Well, damn.
    Since he couldn’t hang up now, he put the receiver to his ear. “Wakefield Optometry.”
    “Oh, thank God you answered.” The words rushed together, but the woman had to be a tourist. She didn’t have a scrap of local accent.
    His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”
    “I’m in town for a conference and my friend accidentally knocked my glasses off.”
    Bingo. He gave himself a point for correctly pegging the out-of-towner.
    She continued, “A car ran over them. You’re the only optometry office in the area who picked up. Is there an eye doctor in who can help me? I’m half-blind without my specs, and I forgot my backup pair.”
    The brisk, no-nonsense way she spoke told him it was probably rare for this woman to ever be caught unprepared. He’d guess she was a forty-something executive who only cut loose when she was away from the office. Like here in Gatlinburg. Maybe not even then.
    He let out a breath. He should say no. They weren’t open, but he was a sucker for a damsel in distress. Too many years of having good manners drummed into his head, especially when it came to his dealings with women. Welcome to being raised by a Southern belle. “You’re speaking to one of the optometrists, ma’am. We’re technically closed right now, but if you can make it over here soon, I’ll be happy to see what I can do to help.”
    “Thank you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The line went dead as she hung up.
    Nine minutes later, someone knocked on the