Chase and Seduction (4 page)

Read Chase and Seduction Online

Authors: Randi Alexander

BOOK: Chase and Seduction
6.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She looked at him, confusion showing in her eyes at his quiet plea. “Chase, I...” She turned and ran down the stairs and across the sound stage, then out the door into the rain.

His chest hurt when he took a full breath, and he stepped back and plopped into his chair. “What the hell?” How did he keep everything else in his life running smooth, but completely fuck up the most important thing? Reno.

He stuck the cigar in his mouth, picked up his butane lighter, flipped open the cover, and spun the flint. The flame burned hot, and he sat watching it. Reno. Sexy woman. He looked down. Still hard as a rock for her.

The curly hair hiding her mound came as an incredible surprise. All the women he knew were trimmed up or bare. The lips of her pussy were hot as lava and slick as cream. She'd come so fast, he was startled. Damn amazed. And her taste, goddamn, it was sweet and a little salty. He wanted to eat her for hours. Then fuck her for hours, then let her get a mouthful of him, then sleep and start it all over again. He'd planned on the whole weekend with her, but he'd screwed up in a major way.

"Fuck.” He relit the cigar then reached into the cabinet next to him for a glass and his bottle of bourbon. Booze. The only way to forget this shitty night. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Another night alone. He might as well get used to it. She'd been in his trailer, what, fifteen minutes?

Yeah, it didn't take long for a woman of Reno's quality to see the kind of a man he was. Smart women figured him out quick. Didn't he learn his lesson two years ago with Jorjia? Intelligent, beautiful, showing him off to her friends. Then slamming him down hard, making him feel like shit for having no college degree and worse, no pedigree.

But he didn't think Reno was like that. Smart, hell yeah. But not a snob. He poured the bourbon, picked up his glass, and swirled it, smelling the woody, caramel liquor, and anticipating the oblivion it would bring.

He stared at the bottle. His dad was a drinker, back home in Kentucky. And when money was tight, Chase dropped out of high school and got a job working with his old man as a hand at a horse farm. They'd go out after work and drink their home state's pride, oak-barrel aged bourbon. And they'd keep drinking until his mom called the bartender and told him to send them home for supper.

And that's when his dad would tell him the story of the woman who got away. She was from blue blood, blue grass, and Thoroughbred horses. He was a laborer, building an addition on her parents’ horse barn. But they fell in love anyway. She wanted to give it all up for him, and he wouldn't let her. He left her and married the first woman who could stand to be with him for more than an hour.

Chase always said he'd never end up like his dad, married to a woman he didn't love because he didn't feel worthy of the woman he did love. Drinking to forget the past that haunted him.

He brought the glass to his lips, and stopped. Reno. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. All their long talks at lunch, and while they were sitting around the set. He trailed after her like a puppy. Everybody noticed and made smartass comments, but he didn't give a damn. He liked her, maybe too much, but wasn't that the way a man should find
the one
? Liking the girl first? He took a sip, and the bourbon scorched his throat.

But now he'd gone and fucked it all up. Treated her bad and made her run. And she wouldn't come back. Not the way he was. Nothing would change her mind. Unless...He sat up. If he could prove he was a gentleman? Could he convince her to give him another try?

Beautiful, intelligent, sexy Reno. She was worth fighting for.

He set his glass down, re-corked the bottle, and picked up the cigar. He went to the bedroom, reached under his bed, and hauled out his old acoustic guitar. Then he dug a cola out of the fridge, and went out onto the “patio” and sat in his old lawn chair.

He tuned up, and played the song he wrote for her. When him and the band played it tonight at the wrap party, she didn't even look his way. “Hmm.” Maybe she didn't know it was for her. Yeah, he would tell her. He'd tell her a hell of a lot more than that, too. Hell, to get another chance with her, he'd rip open his chest and show her his heart, figuratively.

"Miss Reno,” he said around the cigar between his teeth. “Run all you want, but you're not gettin’ away from me that easy."

Close to six the next evening, Reno dragged herself through the hotel lobby, up the elevator, and down the hall toward her suite. It had been a long day, even though she'd slept through most of her spa treatments, but mentally she still balanced on shaky ground.

Chase had been on the guest list at the studio's cocktail reception, but he didn't show up. She was about eighty percent relieved, and twenty percent disappointed. She wanted to talk to him, needed to apologize for her behavior.

She bit her lip and felt the burn of embarrassment grip her belly again. He may never want to see her again, and she couldn't blame him. Crazy, yelling woman, crying and spinning out of control. It weighed heavily on her, and distracted her from the party. People asked if she was all right, and Tracy stuck close to her, picking up the slack in the conversation. Eventually, her friend pulled her into the bathroom and grilled her, voicing her concern. But Reno just wasn't ready to talk about it. She might never be. It was all so depressing.

She dug in her purse for her access card, pulled it out, and glanced down the hall. A man stood in a doorway about ten rooms away. Her breath squeezed out, and her heart beat double-time. Someone in a cowboy hat, jeans, and a black muscle shirt. It was
her
someone.

Her hands trembled, and she nearly dropped the room card.

Chase stepped out of his suite and the door closed behind him. When he reached her, he asked, “Will you take a drive with me?"

Chase watched as Reno slipped her room card into her purse. Then she looked at him and blurted, “I'd like to talk to you about—"

"Uh uh.” He took her hand, tugging her along with him. “When we get back. I promise."

"Where are we going? Am I dressed appropriately?” She opened her black coat.

He looked down at her slinky red dress, down her long, naked legs to the black fuck-me-pumps on her feet, and smiled. “Mmm hmm."

"Chase. You're wearing jeans and a muscle shirt."

"This is LA. No one will bat an eye."

She gave him a doubting look then re-buttoned her coat as they left the hotel.

The valet brought his black convertible, and he helped her in, just as he had the few times he'd convinced her to let him drive her from the studio back to the hotel. No stopping for drinks, no cruising along the ocean. Not even an ice cream cone. It had been straight to the hotel, like she was afraid of him, or something. He slung into the driver's seat.

"Will you tell me where we're going?” she asked over the roar of the engine as he sprang into traffic.

He smiled at her as he shifted. “One of my favorite places."

She waited, and when he didn't say more, she sat back in the seat, quiet.

He'd like to know what she was thinking. He searched for something to say that wouldn't bring up last night, but every question, every comment led back to his trailer. He settled on silence, too.

Fifteen minutes later, Chase pulled into the parking ramp of Children's Hospital, and his anxiety left him. This was the one place over the last four months where he felt like himself again, and not like a Hollywood fake. And he wanted to share that feeling with Reno.

He helped her out of the red leather bucket seat, and her surprised expression pleased him. She didn't know this side of him. All she knew was the man in the tabloids, and the man who'd been trying to seduce her for four months. Tonight, this was the real man.

He opened the trunk and took out his guitar case.

"Are you performing?"

"Not really. Just singing a few songs.” With his hand on her lower back, he led her to the lobby desk. Two of the receptionists and the security guard recognized him, and smiled.

"Mr. Tanner,” the head greeter said, “we weren't expecting you this evening.” She handed him a visitors’ pass.

He leaned closer and grinned. “I know it's not quite regulation, but can I bring my girlfriend with me tonight? I can vouch for her."

The woman almost visibly melted under his gaze. “I can make an exception this one time.” She wrote out the pass with barely a glance at what her pen was doing. Yeah, it was shameless the way he used his smile. She handed him the pass and asked, “Can I tell the fifth floor you're on your way up?"

He nodded. “Thanks, Marlene. Much appreciated.” He tipped his hat, took Reno's hand, and they walked to the elevators. As they rode up to five, he braced himself for the worst. The cancer unit had the sickest kids, and sometimes he didn't recognize them from week to week, depending on how hard their treatments hit them. It helped to have Reno's hand, warm and solid, in his.

He glanced at her, and she looked up at him with an odd expression on her face. “You never mentioned this."

He shrugged and struggled to find a response. How did he tell her he'd stumbled into fame too easily? Everything fell into place without him doing much of anything. He hadn't paid his dues on the way up and this was his way of giving back. Proving to himself that he was a good person, that he deserved the good things.

As the doors opened, a nurse cheered. “Yay! We're so happy to see you! We're gathering up the children, and we set a chair in the play room for you."

"Thank you.” He pulled a stunned looking Reno along with him. What did she think about all this?

He played for an hour and a half. A few parents stood in the back of the room, the mobile kids danced, the ones in wheelchairs wiggled and clapped, and everyone sang along. A few called out their favorite songs and Chase was hard-pressed to remember the words to some of them, but he'd gotten good at making them up.

Reno sat smack in the middle of the kids on a tiny chair, her knees nearly up to her chin. But she sang along, clapped, and talked with the children. His heart filled with emotion each time he looked at her.

Then a nurse popped her head into the room. “Bedtime, everyone. Say thank you to Mr. Tanner, and start heading back to your rooms."

"Aw!"

"Already?"

Chase stood and set his guitar in its case. “I'll be back in a few days."

One little girl with IV lines into her stomach started crying, and her mother picked her up and brought her to Chase. She asked, “Can she give you a hug?"

His throat choked shut, and all he could do was nod.

"Cassie, thank Mr. Tanner for singing for you."

Cassie released her mother's neck and grabbed a hold of his. Her little body felt like a warm, soap-scented bird in his arms. “Tank you for singing.” Then she kissed him full on the mouth.

A sweet-hot burn grew behind his eyes, and he whispered, “You're welcome, Cassie."

She stared at him, her tiny arms were light as feathers against his neck. She whispered, “I love you."

"I...love you, too.” Chase blinked back a swell of tears as he handed her to her mother. They walked away, then he caught Reno's gaze.

Tears ran from her eyes down her cheeks.

He watched her, unmoving, unable to breathe for fear the tears would leak from his eyes. In his side vision, he saw the princess castle, the toy trucks, and the pretend kitchen. He'd love to have a kid. Maybe two. A boy and a girl. When he imagined his own little girl, she looked a lot like Reno. She'd make a great mom. Patient and understanding. Smart and kind.

"How often do you come here?” Reno asked.

He swallowed the lump of emotion, but his voice came out weak. “Whenever I can get away. Visiting hours are about the same as studio hours, so it isn't as often as I'd like."

"Why a children's hospital?” She brushed the tears from her face.

He closed the hasps on the case and stood it on its side. “I need to do things to help.” He almost added that he loved children, but he'd probably start crying like one if he did. It was just so damn unfair that tiny little ones had to get so sick.

Okay, think of something else—horse manure, politics, oil spills.

"In Texas,” she asked, “do you visit hospitals too?"

"Yeah. I make the rounds. There are four children's hospitals close to home.” His voice was almost back to normal.

"It's wonderful that you do this.” She stood and walked to him, then set her hands on his chest. “Thank you for bringing me here. This is what I needed to end a perfect four months."

"Perfect?” His voice pitched high with surprise. Was he part of the mix that made it perfect for her?

"Yes, this will make my last two days here easier to accept."

Accept. He had to accept it, because she seemed to. Tomorrow night they were going their separate ways. Maybe they'd see each other once in a while, but their schedules were damn near opposite.

But he hated to let her leave, didn't want to let this go. He shook his head and tugged her against him. He had so much to say.

A doctor walked by, stopped and looked in the window then shuffled away.

She stepped back. “We should go."

"All right."

They left the hospital, making small talk as he drove to their hotel. They were both quiet through the lobby and up the elevator. At her door, he asked, “You wanna talk now?"

She nodded, and heaved a sigh. “Yes."

Reno handed Chase her key card, and he opened the door, pushing it wide for her to go in ahead of him.

She stepped inside, flipped on a light, and heard the door close behind them. Shrugging out of her coat, she set it and her purse on the table and turned to face him. She should be the one to start this conversation, to apologize and assure him she wasn't really the insane woman she'd appeared to be in his trailer yesterday. But no opening line popped into her head.

He stayed back in the shadows, staring at her. “You look great tonight."

"Thanks.” Reno licked her lips and tasted the red, smudge-proof lipstick. She smoothed her hands over her hips, the red satin dress was a little wrinkled, but she felt sexy in it, perched on three-inch black pumps.

Other books

Brutal Women by Kameron Hurley
The Agent's Daughter by Ron Corriveau
The Almanac of the Dead: A Novel by Leslie Marmon Silko
To Love a Scoundrel by Sharon Ihle
A Deadly Draught by Lesley A. Diehl
The Macbeth Prophecy by Anthea Fraser