Breathe (18 page)

“That’s true,” I whispered.

“It is,” he agreed.

“Chace?” I called. I did it softly but I did it like I didn’t have his attention when he was so close, he was practically all I could see and it couldn’t be argued that I had his complete attention.

“Yeah, baby.”

“I don’t know if you heard the talk. Or I don’t know if someone talked to you about the talk going around town. But you should know that everyone knew something like that happened. And you should know no one blamed you for what you did when you were married to Misty. You should also know everyone always liked you. They wanted better for you. Including me.”

I watched in awe as something washed over his features, something warm yet raw, beautiful but hideous and I felt my chest burn witnessing it.

Then he closed his eyes and pulled me to him so our foreheads were touching.

That felt sweet.

Way sweet.

Beautiful.

I kept talking and he opened his eyes and moved me an inch away as I did.

“You should also know that no one liked Misty but they all agree. They didn’t like her. They figured she trapped you. Everyone knew she lied about Ty Walker. They thought that was crazy and mean and they couldn’t wrap their heads around it. But no one wanted her shot dead.”

“Good to know,” he murmured.

Since his voice was quiet, his hands were warm and strong and we were so close, I felt it safe to keep going.

So I did but haltingly.

“I can’t… I don’t… I mean, I don’t know all that went on and I can’t imagine what it feels like, to be trapped like that, and I really hope I never do. But pretty much anyone in your position would do the same thing so if you’re blaming yourself or feeling guilt about any of that because Misty came to an unexpected dire end, you really shouldn’t.”

“Wish it was easy as that, honey,” he whispered.

He felt guilt.

Frak.

“I do too,” I whispered back then forced a smile at the same time I gave his thighs another squeeze and shared, “But I’ll let you in on a girl secret. A lot of things feel better after a chocolate sundae. So, I bet, you add peanut butter, chopped peanuts and a cherry, it might not sweep all that clean, but it’ll help if only for a little while.”

I hardly got the “ile” out in “while” before one of his hands slid up into the back of my hair and instead of us just being super close, we were super,
ultra
close because he was kissing me.

Chace tasted of beer. It was the only time I’d ever tasted beer that I absolutely
loved it.

I leaned into the kiss, letting the happy haze Chace created whenever his mouth was on mine drift over me. When he ended it, one of my hands was holding tight to the side of his neck, the other pressed deep into the hard wall of his chest and I was breathing heavily.

It seemed to take a year for my eyes to open and I did not care even a little bit because when they finally did, Chace was smiling a small, warm, beautiful smile at me.

Then he was speaking.

Or, in his Chace way, gently ordering.

“Eat your pizza, baby, so I can make you a sundae.”

What could I say?

Except, “Okay.”

Which was exactly what I said.

Then I did exactly what I was told.

And I did it knowing that it was no skin off my nose to eat the pizza so he could make me a sundae since his sundaes sounded
awesome.

But I also did it knowing I’d walk to the ends of the earth hand in hand with Chace Keaton and all he had to do to get me to do it was kiss me deep, smile at me, hold my hand and call me baby.

Chapter Six

Do You Like My Dress?

Six oh three in the morning, the next day

I struggled up from sleep when I heard my house phone ringing. My heavy eyes shifted across the expanse of my piles of pillows to peer groggily at my alarm clock and see it was three after six in the morning. I didn’t have to be to work until nine thirty. Therefore, unless I went to work out before work, I was never up this early and everyone who knew me knew it.

This could mean bad things and, with drowsy trepidation, I grabbed the phone out of its charger, beeped it on, put it to my ear and mustered up a, “’Lo.”

“Mornin’, baby.”

Oh my. It was Chace sounding drowsy too. No, correction. That would be, it was Chace, his deep voice sounding husky, soft,
sexy
drowsy.

Wow.

“Hey, Chace,” I whispered. “Is everything okay?”

“Just wanted to know what you sounded like when you woke up in the morning.”

Oh.

My.

Even still sleepy, I felt my blood start to fire and my belly dropped which caused a tingle between my legs that also tingled down my thighs.

He went on, “And sounds like I woke you up.”

“Yeah,” I told him, still, for some reason, whispering. “You did. I’m never up this early.”

“Never?”

“Well, never if I’m not working out. But I usually can’t muster up the energy to get out of a warm bed in order to go work out so I turn off the alarm, go back to sleep and go to the gym after work.”

He said nothing.

I kept talking.

“I have good intentions though.”

He again said nothing.

So I called, “Chace?”

His voice was deeper, huskier, softer and way, way sexier when he told me, “Sorry, baby, I’m back at you in a warm bed. What else did you say?”

My vaginal walls contracted and my nipples started tingling as I whispered in answer, “I forget.”

That was when I heard his deep, husky, soft, way,
way
sexy chuckle.

God. I was going to have an orgasm just listening to him chuckle!

“You staking out today?” he asked and I wasn’t following. I was concentrating on my body and memorizing the sound of his voice in the morning.

“Pardon?”

“Our kid, honey. After you lay out the stuff, you staking out?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll bring the coffees.”

My heart fluttered.

He’d bring the coffees.

This meant I’d see him again. And soon.

“Eight thirty?” he continued.

“Sounds good,” I replied in a vast understatement.

“See you soon, darlin’.”

“Soon, Chace.”

I listened to him disconnect. Then I put the phone back. After that, I smiled at my pillow. It was then my body caught my attention again and there was nothing for it. I reached to the drawer of the nightstand. As I was doing this, it occurred to me that I might have had the same effect on Chace as he had on me. It also occurred to me that he might do much what I intended to do because of it.

This meant when I pulled out my vibrator, my self-induced orgasm was off the charts.

The best.

By
far.

After I was done, I put my toy away, stretched languorously and smiled again as I snuggled into my pillows.

It was early. I was awake. I had time.

I could relive the night before.

So I did. Happily.

After we got deep during pizza, Chace led us firmly out of deep. The good news was, after our conversation there wasn’t any residual heaviness underlying the evening. The other good news was, for the rest of the night, neither of us had a problem talking.

This, I had to admit, was mostly due to Chace guiding the evening. He asked more about my family. He asked about my schooling. He asked about my time in Denver and the grueling schedule I had, going back to Denver on the weekends to do my Master’s coursework while working at the library in Carnal. And he taught me how to make chocolate peanut butter sundaes which were exactly all their name cracked them up to be.

After that, with his arm light around my waist, he perused my shelves, my DVDs, my CDs, my books and the rest. He teased me about my chakram in a sweet way that wasn’t mean at all. It made me feel warm all over not to mention he made it clear he thought my geekiness was cute. He laughed when I cracked a joke. He told me when we watched TV he got to pick (suffice it to say, I was not wrong about
Southland
). He asked what “frak” meant and I explained it was how they said the f-word on
Battlestar Gallactica
which made him roar with laughter. The best part about that was I got to watch.

He also showed me what he got the boy. Deli turkey and swiss that he put in one of those disposable but reusable plastic storage tubs. Three bottles of different flavored energy drink. A box of Lucky Charms and one of Golden Grahams. More milk. Grapes washed and in another tub. A bag of washed, prepared baby carrots. Six different kinds of candy bars. A pack of paper plates, another of paper bowls. A set of camp cutlery. And a really nice Swiss army knife. It was thoughtful and generous and as we went through it, Ella Mae started singing to me again.

After that, we sat on my couch, Chace arranging us so we were sitting but also (yum!) cuddling and he told me more about his Mom. It was clear he loved her. He didn’t lie when he said they were tight because the things he said made it clear she loved him too. The only damper on the evening (though I didn’t expose I thought this, I just listened and smiled) was that it also sounded like she was mentally unstable. Strangely, Chace didn’t dance around it and the matter-of-fact way he described it made it sound disturbingly normal. Then again, maybe it wasn’t strange seeing as, for him, clearly since he could remember, it was a fact of life.

But I had to admit, it disturbed me. A father who was too hard on him, not a good role model when he was young and more not one when he was older who he detested and a Mom who wasn’t just flighty and sensitive but, perhaps, mentally ill didn’t sound good.

I had a close loving family. My Dad was a character. My Mom was a nurturer. My sister was a drama queen, but loving. My brother was a rebel, but also loving. I was a dreamer, a geek and shy, but, I hoped, loving.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around how Chace grew up. And the fact that he had no brothers or sisters (something Chace told me his Mom couldn’t do, something else that distressed her to an unhealthy extreme) made me sad. I’d lay down my life for Liza and Jude. They felt the same.

But no one had Chace’s back.

The more I learned, the more it seemed that this was
ever.
No one
ever
had his back. Not growing up. Not now. Not Misty. Definitely not his Dad. Not even his Mom who loved him, but depended on him. She was so frail, he had no choice but to do everything he could, even as a kid, not to depend on her.

These thoughts fled my head when Chace stopped our conversation on the couch and started kissing me. This didn’t last as long as I would have liked and got nowhere near past kissing. This was kind of a relief because I had a sense he understood I wasn’t experienced but I wasn’t sure he knew the extent of my inexperience and I wasn’t all fired up for him to know (just yet). But truthfully, it was more of a disappointment because, seriously, he was a good kisser and I was definitely into it. So into it, when he stopped it in a sweet way and in an equally sweet way announced it was time he was getting on, I was thinking that I could do nothing but just kiss him for eternity.

His leaving was not a relief, just a disappointment.

I didn’t share that, I just nodded.

He got up, pulled me out of the couch and walked me to the door. He put on his jacket. Then we made out more by the door.

He stopped that too (way too soon), kissed my nose in that sweet way he did in my office and murmured, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

He smiled.

Then he was gone.

I’d had four dates. Not a vast amount of experience.

Still, I knew that was not a good date.

It was a great one.

I knew this because it got heavy. It got deep. But it was also light and fun. He was interested in me, didn’t mind showing it and digging to learn more. He didn’t mind that I showed I was interested in him and, when I cautiously dug, he was open and honest. We laughed. We cuddled. We made out.

And chocolate peanut butter sundaes were the bomb.

Lying in bed thinking of our night, I sighed.

The last thing he did last night was promise to call.

The first thing he did this morning was keep his promise.

That was when, in bed, I smiled.

Then I threw back the covers and got out.

* * * * *

Eight twenty-nine the same day

I jumped when my passenger side door was thrown open but I didn’t cry out this time.