Passion, Vows & Babies_The Perfect Couple

by Ginger Scott

  “She does have a daughter,” he says, taking his phone back in his palm and putting it away. “No old man for a husband though. She’s been married to Shannon for about three years.”

  I nod slowly, then slide my plate to the right so my head can fall flat against the table.

  “It’s okay,” Chase says, his foot kicking mine gently under the table.

  “No, that was really embarrassing. And she was really nice at the hardware store. I don’t know where all of that came from.” I mutter my words against the wood of the table until Chase’s hand slides over my cheek, urging me to lift my chin and look at him.

  “It’s really okay, Nic.” My lips twitch again. This happens every time he’s close or he touches me, and I hate how I can’t control it, but I don’t rush him to let go.

  “I hated her back then because she had you.”

  And there it is. A piece of something I wish I’d said years ago is out in the open. I’ve said scary words to Chase Pennington, and I’ve survived. More than that, his mouth curves up on the sides in response.

  I look back down to my food, somehow still hungry despite being terrified. Chase begins to tell me stories about his old teammates, filling the void with stories about traveling on buses and getting love letters from crazy fans who would wait for his entire team outside ballpark gates. I’d be jealous of them, too, except I was too busy being thankful that Chase was dominating the conversation.

  He pays our check quickly, and he doesn’t say a word about my admission during the entire ride home. I let myself out of the car, but he runs to my side to take my hand, leading me back in the same way he led me out.

  We get to my front door, and my body feels like a furnace. I know it isn’t a fever. It’s from blushing. But I use it to my advantage.

  “I should probably rest, I think my fever’s back.”

  Chase challenges me in a breath, his hand on my head before I can object.

  “You’re actually cool, Nic. You’re fine.”

  I’m not fine. I’m melting everywhere. And I want to run away, only I’ve got nowhere to go. I can’t even avert my eyes, Chase is standing so close to me.

  “Five or six dates you said.”

  I nod, my gaze roaming along his shoulder and arm. I’m desperate for something safe to look at, but all I see is him.

  “So then you know this is normally where the goodnight kiss is.”

  I somehow keep myself from looking up, but I can’t hide the gulp that echoes in the very slight space left between us.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  I don’t know why that’s what I say, and I blink fast wishing I could take it back.

  “Nicole?”

  His hand is gentle under my chin, and my fight is gone. This moment is everything. If it is in fact a dream, I wish for someone to inject me with a sedative to keep me right here for just a little while longer.

  “Hmmmmm?”

  My eyes flit to his, the tingles in my lips undeniable, every nerve in my body alive and begging for this to be real.

  “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

  I nod in tiny movements, afraid to do more, afraid that it will somehow shift this moment in time and knock it right out of existence. His other hand cups my opposite cheek, and his thumbs tilt my chin up as he steps in closer, extinguishing the air between us and filling it with a fire that stirs at my belly.

  I feel the graze of his nose against mine first, and my eyes shut on instinct. His lips pass over mine like a feather, soft sweeps that drive me wild until both of his lips take in my top one, suckling it gently before dragging this teeth over my skin.

  “I’m pretty sure I had the flu,” I utter, my heart pounding as his mouth curves into a smile against mine.

  “Nic,” he says, his fingers reaching deeper into my hair. “I’ve had the flu before. I’ll survive.”

  “Mmmmm, okay,” I say, the breath of every word we speak against one another the most exciting touch I’ve ever felt.

  Chase’s kiss grows deeper, his mouth covering mine, his tongue taking slow sweeps over my own, until I feel his kiss in the very core of my body. I guide us closer to the door, never letting our lips part, and I feel in my right pocket frantically for my keys. I end up dropping them at our feet, and Chase laughs against me again, stopping our kiss as he leans his forehead into mine.

  “Is that an invitation to come in?” His voice is like a growl, and good lord is it the most masculine thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve been with scientists, not that science isn’t sexy. But the ones I’ve worked with aren’t exactly driving me wild with mere nips at my ear.

  “I’m literally willing to break my own door down,” I say, drawing a bigger laugh from Chase. He bends down and sweeps up the keys in a swift motion, unlocking the door just as fast, and in seconds, it’s closed and I’m in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, and being marched down the hallway to my bed.

  He tosses me into my pile of sheets, and pushes my sweatshirt up over my chest, tossing it from my arms quickly.

  “Glad that’s out of the way,” he says, still insisting some guy from college gave it to me. I press my fingers to his lips as he leans in for a kiss.

  “You seriously don’t recognize that?”

  My eyes haze, and his brow wrinkles before he looks to the sweatshirt on the floor then back to me.

  “You gave that to me at graduation rehearsal. I forgot my jacket in my car, and was about to walk back to the parking lot when you stopped me and pulled it over your head, and said I could give it back to you later.”

  His mouth opens a little, and his eyes glimmer with recognition.

  “I got that when I went on a tour, oh my god, I totally forgot!”

  He stares at the sweatshirt a little longer, and when his eyes come back to mine, they’re sloped on the sides, his face tender.

  “You kept it for a decade,” he whispers.

  I nod, knowing that even if I did see Chase again after that day, I wouldn’t have given it back. That sweatshirt has been with me through a lot of ups and downs, some of my worsts, actually. I held onto it when I needed strength, and a part of me probably never stopped wishing it was him I was holding.

  Chase locks my gaze to his for several long seconds, and all of my nerves from before vanish. When his kiss comes again, I’m ready, and I grow needier with each piece of clothing we strip away and toss to the floor. Eventually there’s nothing but our bodies, our futures and our pasts.

  I feel him inside of me. I relish his fingers digging into my thighs, his breath at my neck. I memorize every taste, and I pray for it to last for hours. If all I get is tonight, I’ll survive the withdrawals just to have it.

  Chapter Seven

  Chase

  I think my mind was made up before I drove to the title agency this morning. I think I was certain the second my lips touched Nic’s. Maybe I knew the moment I saw her sitting in that lawyer’s office, eyes wide and scared.

  My grandmother always knew.

  I’m a damned fool.

  I took the long route to the highway, circling by the high school on my way to the title agency. It was 3:30, and I knew the guys would be out on the field. I didn’t stop to say hi because I knew if I talked to Coach, he’d have me in the office that afternoon signing a contract to start at Rider High. I just sat in my car and watched instead, letting the feeling settle inside of me. No matter how I worked it out in my head, staying here—coaching my old team and becoming someone in this town just felt right.

  Nicole felt right.

  She felt like everything.

  The agent laid the documents on the table for us about five minutes ago, and Nicole has been busy reading every line. I wonder if she’s stalling, waiting for me to stop her. She had work at her lab the morning after our date. And we haven’t talked until on the phone this morning, confirming we could both be here for this appointment.

  Everything feels so professional, and my insides are screaming to let every feeling
I have out, giving it all to the universe do with me what it would like. I hold it all in though, because fear is a bitch. I’m not certain I’ve gotten a single decision right in my life ever. What if this one’s wrong, too?

  I don’t believe in signs. I think my grandmother was nostalgic and idealistic, and I believe she saw the two of us with glasses that were colored by her own storybook romance. She always said my soul was made from a piece of my grandfather’s, and she believed somehow Nicole was a piece of hers.

  Whatever I believe or not, something convinced Nicole to move in her chair and shift her leg so it rested against mine. I reveled in the feel of it for nearly a minute, willing myself to say something, but knowing I was under no deadline. I could stay as long as I wanted. Only I didn’t want to be three hours away with my parents, or in whatever town I could find some job in that was in remote proximity to her. I wanted to be here. In Rider Springs. Next door to her house where I could walk across the lawn and see her anytime I wanted until we both got sick of crossing lawns and just moved in together.

  Her leg moves against me, and I look down at the table, as if I can see through it. I wait for it to happen again, and it does. When she presses her knee into my thigh a third time, I stand up and slide all of the papers into a messy pile, stopping her from reading any more.

  “I don’t want to sell the house!”

  That’s not the only thing I want to yell, but it feels like the best way to stop time for a little while. Nicole scoots her chair back and looks up at me, her face twisted and puzzled.

  “Ummm, do you want me to give you guys some time?”

  I’ve thrown our title agent, Amy, for a loop, too.

  “Time, yeah…that’d…that’d be good,” I stammer.

  “I have another closing in fifteen minutes, so worst case we can reschedule for tomorrow,” she says.

  “That. Yes…ummm…” I look back to Nicole, her eyes drawn even closer together, and I’m not sure if she’s confused or nervous. I bend forward to whisper to her.

  “Can we just hold off on this for a day?”

  She nods nervously and smiles with tight lips, and we both look to Amy, who somehow isn’t rattled a bit to see a housing deal fall apart at her table.

  “Call me with direction, Chase. Take care,” she says, her file bag tucked under her arm and an empty coffee mug dangling from her thumb.

  I wait until the door falls closed completely in her wake before I turn to Nicole. I have nothing to say, but my insides are itching to make my mouth say something.

  “Hear me out,” I begin.

  She breathes out a laugh and turns so her body is facing me. My body begins to sweat.

  “What if…what if I stay. What if I stay here, live here—or there—in that house. My house, that was almost your house. And you and I could be…”

  “Neighbors?” She quirks a brow, mocking me.

  “Yeah, I guess. But maybe more.”

  I study her reaction, hoping for excitement, but her eyes feel stuck, her mouth drawn tight. She hasn’t taken a breath yet.

  “Or maybe we could start over. I just…maybe…maybe my grandma was right.” I feel ridiculous saying it that way, but she’s still frozen and her muscles are growing tighter with every second that passes. I scream inside for her to just say something.

  “Nicole?”

  “I’m going to Burundi. I leave Friday.”

  It’s like a gut punch. It comes fast, and it robs me of everything I thought I knew. I’m not a crier, but I feel like I might. My mouth waters, wanting to throw up, and I stammer out sounds, not sure how to respond to something that is so not what I expected, hoped for, wanted…needed to hear.

  “Oh.”

  That’s the only word that comes out. It’s so small. Two letters.

  “I’m so sorry, Chase. I got the call yesterday. I didn’t know how to tell you, but I worked so hard for this, and I couldn’t say no. You have to understand. It was only supposed to be three months, but they approved me for a year. The work is so…it’s my everything. It’s my legacy.”

  And that’s when I realize the painful truth. Nicole already is someone. She’s someone people need—that this world needs. She’s beyond special, and I can’t hold her hostage and keep her as only mine. It wouldn’t be fair. And this…this actually hurts like hell.

  I look down and step back from the table, a sad smile painting my lips.

  “I’m so sorry. I was being impulsive and…of course. Nic, that’s amazing. That you are actually doing this. Wow.”

  I rub my hand along my cheek, and it feels numb.

  “You’re going to be on one of those major news shows one day, or in that magazine about giraffes and desert lands.”

  “You mean National Geographic?” She laughs out her words, and I cherish that sound. I lean my head to the side, and she realizes I was kidding.

  “I know what it’s called,” I say, reaching for her hands. I lift her to her feet and glance at the mess of pages I should probably straighten out, but leave as they are. I weave Nic’s fingers through mine and walk with her to her car, not wanting to let go of her when we get there, but knowing I need to.

  She reaches for my other hand, and I let her capture those fingers too, happy to be right here for just a little while longer.

  “What were you planning to do here? As my neighbor. I mean for work. There aren’t exactly a lot of radio stations in Rider.” She chuckles, and I smile at the thought of delivering the morning farm news and gossip on the a.m. station in town. The signal barely stretches eight town blocks.

  “I was actually thinking about coaching, maybe getting my teaching certificate for the high school.”

  She stares into my eyes and moves our hands together between us while she studies me, I think trying to gage my sincerity.

  “You always were the king at Rider High,” she finally says.

  I breathe in deep and lift my shoulders, not sure if I should be flattered.

  “That I was.” I smile at her, and she lets her head fall forward to rest on my chest.

  “I’m really sorry, Chase. I…”

  I stop her there.

  “Shhhh, don’t be. I honestly think I’m still going to stay. There’s just something about being here. But…don’t worry. I’ll call Amy tomorrow and we can finish the sale of the house. It’s important to you.”

  She pulls away and gazes up at my eyes silently. How could I have had her for so long and not known what I really had?

  “Tomorrow then?”

  I nod.

  “Tomorrow.”

  I open her car door and let her in, letting my fingers pathetically slide along the glass as I close it. I push them in my pockets as she drives away, and even though I’ll see her again tomorrow, something about this moment feels definitive.

  My eyes burn a little as I walk away, so I press my palms into my eyes and blow air out so hard my lips vibrate with the force. The sound makes me laugh, and my own madness kicks what started as a chuckle into hysteria. I slip into my car and turn on the radio, the windows rolled up and the speakers loud. Every damn song has some hidden meaning I can find behind it, and each one makes me laugh until all I can bear to do is sit there and listen to silence.

  My life has been turned upside down somehow, and I’m left feeling strangely grateful and empty all at once. I shift my gear and adjust my mirrors, ready to drive back to my parents’ house hours away, when a white sedan squeals in front of me, and Nicole’s door flies open.

  Heartbeats begin pounding in my ear, and my body flies from my own car with adrenaline. I grab both of her elbows and shake her a little, worried that something’s wrong.

  “Would you wait for me?”

  I freeze at her words, my eyes wide open while my brain works to catch up to my ears.

  “An entire year. It’s a long-ass time, Chase Pennington, but would you wait for me?”

  My lips begin to ache, and my mouth curves slowly. She’s asking me to wait for he
r. She wants this—an us. This someone wants this nobody.

  “I’ll wait for you Nicole. Hell-to-the-fucking yes, I’ll wait for you!”

  I pull her to me and kiss her hard, her body shaking with happiness, and my hands unable to stop roaming down her back and up into her hair. I kiss her until our lips are raw and our breathing is labored. And then I pull her against my body and hold her close counting the seconds until I get to kiss her again.

  Acknowledgments

  This book was so much fun to write. I have to thank Fiona Davenport (AKA Elle Christensen & Rochelle Paige) for inviting me to be a part of their exciting world. I’m an enormous fan, and to be allowed to contribute to something they’ve made is an honor. Thank you both so much!

  Huge shouts out also go to my husband, who put up with the version I become when I go all “writer cave,” and to my mom, my support system when I kick things into overdrive.

  Above all, though, I want to thank the readers—the ones who love the highs and lows of love, who sing the praises of romance, and who demand our very best. I hope you enjoy my little off-shoot of the Davenport world. I loved every minute of living in it.

  XO

  Ginger