by Lane, Soraya
His body tensed, the hand not holding his beer instantly fisting. “You gonna tell me what he did so I can do something about it?”
She braved a smile, finally looking up and sipping her beer again. “No. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You would have told me eventually.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her, was so mesmerized by the way she kept pulling her hair over one shoulder, biting her bottom lip when she wasn’t sure about something. She might be one of the top AI specialists in the country, but right now it was like they were college kids again, like she was the same young woman who’d made him so damn hard all the time just from being around her and trying to keep things platonic that nothing, not even the most gorgeous goddamn cheerleaders, had been able to take his mind off her. “You know I’d do anything for you though, right? You want my help, you’ll get it, no matter what.”
“Can we just talk about something else?” she asked, looking forlorn as she slumped over the bar. “I don’t want to talk about everything I’ve done wrong, and I sure as hell don’t want you doing anything about it. Everything that could have been done is done.”
Chase whistled to the bartender, handing over some cash with a generous tip. “Your best tequila. Two shots.”
“Chase…” Hope cautioned.
“What?” he asked, throwing her a half smile as he took the two shots placed in front of him. “If you don’t want to talk about it then the only thing to do is drink tequila, right?”
She shook her head, not taking her eyes off him as she held up the tiny glass. “I’m going to regret this in the morning.”
“We’re both gonna regret it in the morning, but since when did that stop us?”
She laughed as he winked. “Bottom’s up then, I guess.”
Chase swallowed down the shot, trying not to laugh at Hope’s burning-eyed choke.
“You okay?”
“Damn, we were either really drunk when we used to order these or I was a more seasoned straight liquor drinker.”
“Both,” he said, grimacing for her as she finished it and slammed the glass down on the bar.
“Whoa. That burned out all the cobwebs.”
“Another?” Chase asked.
“I think we need to eat first. If I drink on an empty stomach you’ll regret asking me out.”
Chase nodded to the bartender again and smiled his thanks when he saw the small booth tucked away in the corner was free. It might just be a burger and beer joint, but who the hell said it couldn’t be romantic?
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, stepping off his stool and holding out a hand to her. It was a genuine gesture, something they’d have done without thinking when they’d been more familiar with each other, but she surprised him by pressing her palm to his and bumping into him as they walked.
Hope’s head was spinning and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. Being with Chase again was like finding a favorite pair of jeans and realizing that they still fit like a glove. Only Chase was no worn old pair of jeans. The weight of his hand in hers, the strength of his big body beside her, the flash of those dark eyes as he gave her a glance—only Chase could have that effect on her. Everything about him screamed masculinity, even the too-long hair that should have made him look scruffy but instead had the reverse effect—he looked like a Roman gladiator with his curly locks falling past his ears.
They settled into the booth, her going one way and Chase the other, only to end up side by side, thighs brushing. She tried to ignore the sensation of his jeans-clad leg against hers and found it impossible.
“So what’ll it be?”
Hope flipped open the menu and studied it, tipping her head to the side as she considered her options. “Let me guess. You’re having the Rodeo Burger. There’s no chance you’d turn down a Black Angus burger.”
“Am I so predictable?” Chase asked with one eyebrow raised.
Heat flooded her body, those words taking her back in time. She was certain he’d said something like that before she’d ripped off his shirt, popping every button before covering his skin with her mouth. And her tongue. And her… She took a deep breath. The truth was she’d missed a lot about Chase, but it was the physical element of their relationship that flooded her memory banks.
“I think I’ll have the Rodeo Tortilla Salad,” she murmured, ignoring his question.
“What, no fries for you?”
There was a twinkle in his gaze that made butterflies dance in her belly again. “Can’t I pinch some of yours? Or don’t you like sharing anymore?”
They were seated side by side but Chase’s body was angled just enough so he could stare at her, and she didn’t let him have the upper hand, matching the heat and intensity of his gaze. There was no point ignoring it or pretending it wasn’t there—the sexual chemistry between them was palpable and she doubted anyone could spend time with them and not notice it.
As if on cue Chase’s thigh became firmer against hers, pressed from her knees to her hips, his hand leaving the menu to slide across the table, fingers nudging hers.
“Hope…”
“Chase?” The connection between them was broken as a shrill, drunken voice echoed out. Hope saw the change in Chase’s face, watched his eyes go from open to wary to downright pissed. She finally looked away from him and at the woman standing in front of their table, her long, manicured pink nails drumming a beat on the timber top.
“Well, well, Chase King. This why you cancelled on me tonight?”
Hope sighed. This was definitely their college days repeating themselves all over again.
“Hi, Sarah.”
“You gonna introduce me to your friend here, sugar?”
Hope watched as the other woman slid into the booth beside Chase, reaching those long nails out and dancing them across Chase’s arm. He moved closer to Hope and she had to hide a smirk. Some things never changed.
“Sarah, this is Hope.”
Hope raised her eyebrows and forced a smile, but she was being thoroughly ignored.
“You wanna have a drink after you finish up here? Or how about you just swing past my place later?”
Chase cleared his throat, his thigh and his arm jammed against Hope’s.
“Ah, I don’t think so,” Chase told her, his voice firm.
“But Chase, baby…”
He threw Hope an apologetic look before turning his full attention to the woman he’d obviously let down tonight to come out with her.
“How about we go outside for a moment and talk in private,” Chase said. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Suddenly things turned nasty. Like clockwork, Chase’s calm words seemed to have the absolute opposite effect.
“Chase, baby, you gonna choose”—the other woman glared at her, eyes traveling up then down—“this over me.”
Chase’s arm went rigid against Hope’s, his hand closing possessively over her thigh. “Enough,” he growled out, like a bear disturbed from hibernation. “It’s time to go, sweetheart. What we had was fun, but that was it. All fun and no commitment, remember?”
The look on her face was one of pure shock and Hope couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Women flocked to Chase like bees to honey and she couldn’t blame them—he was handsome, he was loaded, and he had charm to boot.
“Asshole,” Sarah spat out, raising her hand to slap him.
But Chase was too fast, intercepting it and shaking his head. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You’re a bastard, you know that, Chase King?”
“I never promise what I can’t deliver, and I made it clear from the start that we were only casual,” he said, voice as calm as ever, like he was talking a jumper down from a ledge. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, but it is what it is.”
Hope was at least impressed with how the other woman sucked it up and left, not saying another word. Mind you, she’d seen the routine before and it often got nasty. Although she had to give Chase credit too—he’d always made it
clear back in college that he was a one-night wonder, but women always seemed to think they’d be the one to keep his attention for longer. Which was one of the reasons she’d always said no to him.
“Well, that was awkward,” Chase muttered, looking embarrassed as he looked up from beneath thick black lashes. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“Looks like some things never change,” she replied, trying to look stern.
Chase opened his menu again. “I did cancel on her, but what we had was only casual. You know how it is.”
She knew the drill—he had an embarrassed look on his face, but she doubted he was the least bit worried. “You still haven’t found anyone to tame you yet?”
“Believe me,” he said, leaning in close, way too close for comfort, “there’ve been plenty try but none succeed.”
She gave him a shove, half-playful, half just wanting to get him out of her space. She couldn’t breathe with his body up hard to hers, could barely think about anything other than the big, strong, gorgeous man sitting beside her.
“One day you’re going to have to settle down, you know that, right?”
“Would you believe me if I said I’d tried?”
It was a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping. “You have? You’re not in a relationship now, are you?” she asked. Surely not after the woman he’d just admitted to seeing casually, but still…
Chase nudged her before leaning back into the leather booth seat. “Why? We haven’t done anything wrong?”
Maybe they hadn’t physically, but the way they’d touched, the way they were behaving, was not okay if either of them was in any kind of a relationship.
“You just had some floozy wanting a booty call with you. Call me crazy but I don’t actually think you’d be the kind to cheat if you were actually with someone.”
Chase smiled as a waiter approached them, and he glanced at her as he ordered, raising his eyebrows then ordering for her when she nodded. It was funny how they could just switch back into the comfortable way they’d always been.
“God, we need more alcohol,” he muttered. “But you’re right, I might like to love ’em and leave ’em, but I’m not a cheater. Never have been, never will be.”
“Glad to hear you haven’t changed,” she told him, pleased when a glass of wine arrived at their table barely minutes after he’d ordered.
“It’s an award-winning Willamette Valley pinot, so it should be good. Or at least it sounded good on the wine list.” Chase held up his glass and clinked it softly to hers when she did the same. “To old friends.”
“To old friends,” she repeated, holding his gaze as he took a slow, steady sip from his glass. His eyes were burning into her, not giving her a moment to escape, holding her captive. The red was smooth and silky, just how she liked it. “So tell me? Who was she and how did she almost tame you?”
“You say it like I’m some kind of a wild animal,” he muttered good-naturedly.
“Um, when it comes to the opposite sex? Sorry, but that’s exactly what you’re like.”
Chase stared at his glass for a long moment before finally raising his eyes. “I’ll have you know that I was pretty easy to capture in the end. She was beautiful and smart and funny, and I didn’t give a damn about not being able to play around anymore.”
Hope swallowed, hard. “What happened?” If he’d felt like that about a woman, then why had it ended?
“Turns out she was putting on a pretty good show. She lied to me about her past and she was just another gold digger wanting to catch herself a rich husband.”
“Oh, Chase, I’m sorry.” She bit down on her lip, fingers itching to reach out to his, so they could connect like before, but scared of what it might mean if she let herself be the one to initiate something.
“So you’re not the only one with a few romantic wounds.” His voice was lighthearted now, the darkness gone. “I’m just pleased I figured her out before things had gone too far. Man, if we’d have been married or had kids…” He paused, his face falling. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine,” she said, fixing a smile even though she was breaking inside. “Harrison’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her heart was pounding, betraying her calm thoughts. She’d never wanted to be a single mom, never wanted to lie to anyone about her child’s father, but she’d done her best and Harrison had had the best grandparents in the world to help raise him. She couldn’t have asked for a more supportive family if she’d tried.
“It must be pretty crappy having to bring him up on your own though. We sure know how to pick ’em, huh?”
She nodded, her breath coming in short rasps. Was it lying if she just wasn’t telling him the whole story? Or the truth?
“So how did you figure her out?” she asked, avoiding the topic of her being a single mom entirely.
Chase grunted. “Nate didn’t like her, thought there was something just not quite right, so we decided to put her to the test. See if she actually was as head over heels in love with me as she claimed to be.” He shrugged. “I thought Nate was full of bullshit, but I went along with it to prove a point and I told her that Granddad had barred us all from inheriting until much later in life, that we had to make our own way in the world and we’d get our third of everything when we turned forty.”
“What happened then?”
“Let’s just say that she was only twenty-five and she had no intention of waiting that long to see some serious cash. She was gone by the time I woke up the next morning.”
“Bitch.”
Chase toyed with the stem of his wineglass. “My sentiments exactly.”
They sat in silence for a little while, the country-rock music getting louder as the place became even more crowded. It was nice being out, enjoying adult company instead of being permanently in mommy mode when she wasn’t at work. She had some great work colleagues, but between Harrison and work, she hadn’t exactly had any time to make new friends.
“So here we are.”
She laughed. “Here we are.”
“You ever think what might have happened if you hadn’t bolted on me that morning? Whether things might have turned out differently?”
Hope’s body ignited just at the mention of their night together, like flames licking across her skin. “Chase...” She didn’t want to discuss it, especially not now.
“No, come on. We were friends, it was years ago, surely we can talk about it.”
She wasn’t sure if he was just trying to get a rise out of her, or if he genuinely didn’t mind dredging up the past. “For starters, I didn’t bolt, I had a plane to catch and you knew it.”
He leaned farther back into the seat, his body stretched out, knee locked against hers. There was no getting away from the man.
“Let’s not pretend like that night didn’t mean anything, Hope.” His voice was so deep it was seductive, silky and gruff. She’d resisted him for so long, for so many years, but now that she’d been on the receiving end of that voice, of his touch, she doubted she’d have the same kind of willpower ever again. Not when it came to Chase King, and the temptation was sitting right in front of her.
“Chase,” she cautioned, not sure what else to say.
“It was worth it,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. One curly lock escaped immediately, springing back, and she wanted to touch it so bad it hurt.
His confidence was overpowering, but she refused to let him seduce her if that’s what he was trying to do. What had happened between them had been a mistake, that was all. A pleasurable, amazing mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.
“Chase, I wasn’t one of your one-nighters then, and I’m not now,” she managed, holding her glass so tight she was afraid it would break. “That was just three years of pent-up sexual attraction exploding.”
“I’ve never mistaken you for a one-nighter, Hope, that’s why I’ve always been waiting for a rematch.”
She glared at him, needing a damn fan to cool
herself from the heat surging through every inch of her. “You need another woman to try to slap you tonight?”
Chase held up both hands, like he was surrendering, only he snatched her hand into his and linked their fingers before she had a chance to realize what the hell he was doing.
“How about I keep hold of this hand just in case,” he asked, his grin way too infectious to let her stay angry with him.
She noticed the waiter approaching and breathed a big sigh of relief.
“How about you give me my hand back and we eat dinner.”
What she needed was to call her best friend back home. Lisa had been like a sister to her since they were in pre-K, and she was also one of the only people on the planet who knew the truth about her son’s father. She dug her nails into her palm. As soon as the night was over, she was calling Lisa, no matter how late it was.
* * *
“Tequila,” Chase announced. “We need tequila.”
He held out a hand for Hope to grab on to, grinning when she took hold. He tugged her from the booth and dragged her toward the bar.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Hope said, shaking her head when Chase pulled out a vacant barstool for her. “I’m not a seasoned drinker like you.”
“You used to be.”
“Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.”
“And it would be a shame not to make use of the tequila bar.”
Chase chuckled and leaned forward to order, standing close beside Hope so they could talk over the loud music. He nudged her thigh as he stared down into eyes that seemed to see straight through him. Hope had always had the uncanny ability to make him tell her anything, to bring out the best in him, but it had always made him want her so bad it had taken all his willpower not to proposition her on a daily basis. And what had he done? He’d gritted his damn teeth and pretended like he was fine with them just being friends. But that was then and this was now—and now he didn’t wait around when he knew what he wanted.
