by Aubrey Gross
He’d been thinking about kissing her, wondering if it would scare her or gross her out if he did. He remembered being anxious, fear and nerves churning in his gut. Her cheeks had been pink, she’d had goose bumps on her arms despite the summer heat and she’d drawn this really shaky breath like the ones he’d seen in movies right before the guy kissed the girl, and courage had blossomed.
And then Matt had broken the moment.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Owen and Jenn, about two hundred yards away, occupied with their usual race to the sand bar that gently bumped out of the water in the middle of the cove. Matt wasn’t here, their friends were engrossed in their own game, and Chase suddenly felt the need to at least get some answers from the woman standing in front of him.
He dropped his fishing pole, causing Jo to jump and jerk her head around to look at him. “Are you…”
He cut her question off with his mouth, finally doing what he’d wanted to that summer day almost twenty years ago, and so many days after that. He nipped lightly at her bottom lip before licking at it with his tongue. His hands settled on her hips—those damned tempting strings twined around his fingers—and he coaxed her mouth open.
He felt her body’s response before he felt her mouth’s response. Her arms fell and he felt her hands on his waist, riding the waistband of his shorts. Her touch burned through his t-shirt.
And then she was kissing him back. Slowly, almost shyly. Their tongues danced together and lips caressed each other.
Languorous. That really was the only way to describe it.
Languorous.
Their bodies rocked gently with the boat, but he didn’t move closer. Just an answer, that’s all he wanted.
Just one fucking answer.
He heard her inhale deeply through her nose, felt her fingers tighten on his waistband, and knew he had at least one answer.
This was going to be a really long summer.
~~*~~
Jo blinked as Chase pulled away from her, breaking the kiss and setting her thoughts spinning in her head.
Chase had just kissed her.
Chase.
She wanted him to do it again.
He was an expert kisser.
She wanted him to do it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Except with more hands. Those big hands had stayed on her hips, but Jo realized with a sharp, jarring thought that she wanted those hands on her. Everywhere.
But he was Chase and she was Jo and despite having a degree in psychology and being a high school counselor she suddenly felt like one of the teenage girls she so often listened to. She vaguely remembered this feeling—the confusion and anguish and want that clawed sharply, desperately at a person’s insides. She hadn’t felt it often.
Oh, she’d wanted men before. She’d had men before. Not a lot, but a few. And she’d wanted them, been attracted to them, trusted them and in one case even loved. But this intense, sudden churning she’d only felt with one person.
Chase.
It hadn’t been there the other night at Walmart—not like this. She’d recognized the spark, the stirrings of want, but it hadn’t been like this since high school, when she’d loved him desperately and had stuffed it down because she’d been trying to protect him.
Okay, she’d been trying to protect herself, too.
Vaguely, the sound of Jenn’s laughter reached her ears, carried on the wind and the waves, and Jo blinked as she returned to the present.
Chase was still standing in front of her, their bodies close enough that she could feel heat pulsing off of him in waves. Knowing her sunglasses were dark enough to hide her eyes, she took a moment to look him over, to collect herself. His body was taut with tension, she could see that now. Could feel that, somehow, like she’d been able to once upon a time, when she’d been attuned to his moods, thoughts and emotions.
His breaths were slightly uneven, and despite the fact that it had been some time since she’d been around a man in an aroused state, she was pretty sure Chase was, indeed, in an aroused state.
He wanted her.
Somehow, that made everything simpler and more complicated at the same time.
Same, but different.
Words and thoughts and feelings pushed at her throat, tripping over each other as they danced over her tongue. Her thoughts were spinning like Jessie Spano on diet pills.
Then suddenly Jessie was no longer excited, and her thoughts were calm, and the only words that mattered—really mattered—spilled over her lips.
She pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head, removing at least one of the barriers between them, and looked him in the eye. “I never meant to hurt you, Chase.”
“Then why did you?”
She shook her head. “I was trying to protect you. Myself. My mom…”
He looked off to the side, and she followed his gaze. Owen and Jenn had just reached the sand bar, were walking onto shore with their backs towards the boat. Chase glanced back at her, grabbed her sunglasses and his, tossed them to the side and then pushed her over the edge.
Jo came up sputtering, spitting water as she scooped hair out of her eyes.
What the hell was wrong with him?
She looked up at the boat, trying to find him, and felt something brush against her leg. She shrieked and kicked, paddling towards the boat, away from whatever was lurking under the surface. She was scared to look down, for fear of what she’d see in the clear water.
Please don’t let it be a snake. Or a gar.
Just as Jo reached the side of the boat and began to tread water, Chase’s head popped up right where she’d been, and she realized with at least some relief that she’d probably felt him brushing against her leg under water.
At least, that’s what she preferred to believe.
He stroked towards her, stopping about a foot away.
“What the hell was that for?”
He grinned as he tread water. “I wanted some privacy.”
She pushed a hank of wet hair out of her eyes. “And we didn’t have that already?”
“They always turn around once they reach the sand bar and wave at me. They would have seen us and then we wouldn’t have heard the end of it.”
“And disappearing over the side of the boat and out of their sight won’t make them give us hell?”
He looked away for long moments, long enough that Jo wondered if he was going to answer her at all, and then he swung his gaze back to her and she felt her breath catch somewhere between her lungs and her throat before leaving her body on a long, hard whoosh. Did he even know what those eyes did to a woman?
“We’re just swimming.”
“You don’t sound like that you believe that.” She sounded much braver than she felt.
His laugh was slightly choked; with wonder, disbelief, or anger she didn’t know. “You know me too well. Somehow, you still know me too well.”
And she did. They might be same and yet different than they had been, but the fundamentals of who they used to be were still present.
“I made you uncomfortable. So you threw me into the water.” She skimmed her hand along the surface, splashing him in the face. He wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable.
He laughed and splashed her back. “Slightly. Maybe.”
Her lips twitched, holding back a laugh. He splashed her again, and she closed her eyes and splashed back, the laughter now bubbling over. She opened her eyes just in time to see him take a deep breath and dive under the water, and knew exactly what he was doing.
Jo moved quickly to the right and then used the side of the boat to push off with her legs. When he surfaced where she’d been, she was a good ten feet away from him.
Their gazes caught and she raised an eyebrow. �
�I bet I’m still the better swimmer.”
Instead of answering he dove back under the water, and Jo moved again, swimming to her right.
Apparently she wasn’t still the better swimmer, because seconds later she felt his hand grasp her ankle. Knowing what was coming next she took one last deep breath before he pulled her under.
It had been years since she’d gotten into a water fight with anyone, and even more since that person had been Chase. But some things were a lot like riding the proverbial bicycle—same, but different.
Instead of fighting to reach the surface and get away from him, she instead twisted in his grip, knowing his hand wasn’t incredibly tight around her ankle. She opened her eyes, and could easily see him in the clear water. He was right in front of her, his eyes closed, and she took advantage, reaching out and lightly running her fingers along his belly where his shirt had floated up, exposing his skin there.
He jerked, and the movement propelled them upwards. Their heads broke the surface, both of them gasping for air.
“You tickled me!”
Jo snorted. “You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
Chase narrowed his eyes in an attempt to look menacing. Jo giggled—actually giggled—which made him laugh.
They treaded water, laughing, for long moments before Chase smiled and said, “I’ve missed you, Jo.”
Jo was suddenly glad for the water running from her hair down her face, because it helped hide—at least a little—the couple of tears that managed to escape.
“I’ve missed you too, Chase.”
~~*~~
Chapter Four
“Stop feeling guilty.”
Jo glanced towards Jenn and took another sip of her wine. “Guilty about what?”
“I can read you like a book, Jolene Westwood. You’re feeling guilty about leaving Gran all alone tonight.”
“She just had hip surgery, and I was gone all day already.”
“And she told you she was perfectly fine and to not feel guilty and go have fun with your friends. So stop it.”
“It’s just…hard not to feel guilty.” Jo sighed and sipped more wine. She did feel guilty, sitting here in Owen’s backyard, drinking wine while her grandmother sat at home by herself with still somewhat limited mobility.
Jenn harrumphed beside her before reaching for the bottle of wine to pour herself some more. “This is really good. Where’d you get it?”
Jo knew better than the trust to change in subject as being permanent, but answered her friend’s question anyway. “Spec’s.”
Jenn raised an eyebrow. “You purposely packed wine to bring with you?”
Well, theoretically she could have stopped in San Antonio on her way from Austin. “I wasn’t sure if I could find my favorites here.”
“You’re such a wine snob,” Jenn teased.
“Yes, such a wine snob that I packed a few bottles of my favorite ten dollar red moscato to bring with me.”
Jenn looked at the bottle again. “This stuff’s seriously only ten bucks?”
Jo smirked. “Yup.”
“Hot damn. I hope they do sell this stuff in Del Rio. Somewhere. Even Uvalde. I’ll drive to Uvalde for this.”
Jo laughed, the tension starting to drain from her shoulders.
Jenn flashed her a knowing smirk. “I got you to stop feeling guilty.”
Jo sighed.
“Guilty about what?” Chase sauntered over, a long neck of Shiner dangling from his fingers.
She had the oddest sudden desire to be a beer bottle.
“Jo’s feeling guilty about leaving Gran by herself.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “She just had her hip replaced!” She said for the second time that night.
Chase sat down beside her, casually rested his free arm along the back of the wooden glider they were both sitting on. Every nerve in Jo’s body jumped to attention. She grabbed her glass of wine, tried to take a casual sip, but gulped instead.
Coming to Owen’s had been a bad idea.
For one thing, Gran might need her. For another, her emotions were still too raw from her and Chase’s almost confessions this afternoon. Not to mention the definitely happened kiss.
Who knew he could kiss like that?
“How’s she doing?”
Jo mentally shook herself. “She’s actually doing really well. She hates physical therapy—which I knew she would. Stubborn woman.”
“Well, at least you come by it honestly,” Chase quipped.
Jo elbowed him in the ribs.
Jenn raised her eyebrows and peered at the two of them over the rim of her wine glass. “So what were the two of you doing while we were at the sand bar?”
“Swimming.”
“Horsing around.”
They spoke at the same time, causing Jenn to lift her eyebrows even higher—which Jo hadn’t thought was possible.
“Swimming. Horsing around. Hmm.” Those eyebrows eased into a lascivious waggle.
Jo forced herself not to squirm under Jenn’s gaze. Damn her and her seventh grade teacher perceptiveness.
Or whatever it was.
Grasping for something—anything—she picked up her iPhone, started up an iTunes playlist on shuffle, and said, “Oh, hey, I love this song!”
Owen stepped out of the house—the fish were apparently ready to go on the grill—and asked, “You know Kelly Willis and Bruce Robison?” His expression clearly said, I don’t believe it.
“Any Texas girl worth her salt knows the first couple of Austin’s country music scene.”
Jenn chuckled. “Oh, I think the gauntlet might have just been thrown.”
Jo looked quizzically at Jenn, who smiled and explained, “These two,” she tipped her wine glass first towards Chase and then towards Owen, “are the two biggest music geeks in Del Rio.”
“Little do these two,” Jo pointed at Owen and then Chase, “know that I’m also a music geek, huh?”
Chase’s fingers brushed against Jo’s shoulder—almost as if by accident—as he asked, “But are you a Texas country music geek? See, Owen and I are very, very picky.”
“Snobby, even,” Jenn nodded enthusiastically.
“More of an overall music geek, with a soft spot that borders on obsession for all things Miranda Lambert.”
Chase laughed. “I should have known.”
“Should have known what?”
“I’m just not surprised, that’s all. So, you up for a friendly competition?”
Jo narrowed her eyes. “What kind of competition?”
Jenn almost bounced in her seat. How many glasses of wine had she had? “I play DJ. It’s kind of like Jeopardy or Family Feud or something. First person to slap the table gets first guess at the song. Each correct guess is one point. Each wrong, you get a point erased.”
“Do we listen to a song or what?”
“Jenn pulls up iTunes, shuffles stuff, and then starts playing. Sometimes we’ll listen to the full song, sometimes we just skip through,” Chase answered.
“Sure, I’m in.”
“You’re brave, Jolene.”
“Nobody’s called me Jolene in years, and I swear between y’all and my gran I’ve been called that more times I can count since I’ve been back.”
Chase shrugged. “Sometimes it just fits.”
Jo raised an eyebrow before turning to Jenn and smiling. “Bring it on, boys.”
~~*~~
Jo’s hand slapped down on the table and she shouted out, “Nobody’s girl by Reckless Kelly!”
Beside him, Chase could feel her hips twitching. Playing their stupid game with Jo had been fun—and an added challenge since with every sip of wine she took, the more her hips twitched on the seat next to his.
Owen set the now cooked fish on a platter in the middle of th
e table, and Jenn let the song play as they took an official time out for supper. As Jo speared a grilled filet with her fork, he could hear her humming softly along with the song. He chuckled, remembering how as kids she’d put on more than one “concert” in his backyard, most often to Madonna and Bon Jovi.
Chase surreptitiously glanced down at her, noticing how emotions seemed to fleetingly cross her face before they were gone, so different from how guarded she’d been that night in Walmart when they’d first bumped into each other. As the song neared the bridge Jo’s body seemed to hum with barely suppressed movement. Something told him that had she been alone she would have been bouncing and pumping her fist in time with the music and the words that expressed the heartache of a woman growing up in a broken home and finding herself repeating the cycle.
Jo’s home hadn’t been broken in the traditional sense, but he knew enough to know that it hadn’t exactly been whole, either.
How many nights had she spent on her own, he wondered, before telling himself that it really wasn’t any of his business.
The only problem was that while everyone else assumed he’d long ago stopped caring about Jolene Sommers—no, Jolene Westwood, now—he hadn’t. Not really. He’d just done a good job of stuffing the feelings down and ignoring them like she’d ignored him.
He sounded like an angry kid, even to himself. Chase supposed that somewhere inside he probably was still a little bit of an angry boy.
Conversation ebbed and flowed as they ate supper, with Chase lost primarily in his thoughts the entire time. When they’d finished, Jenn and Owen volunteered for kitchen duty, gathering up dirty dishes and carrying them inside.
Alone with nothing more than Jolene, iTunes and alcohol, Chase wondered if his friends had planned this. He wouldn’t put it past them.
The song switched from Pat Green’s “Take Me Out to a Dancehall” to Eli Young Band’s “Guinevere,” and Jo once again softly hummed along.
“I really didn’t take you as a Texas country fan.”
She looked over at him. “No? Why?”
