“The shot goes down easier, huh?” She met his gaze. Even his teeth blurred together and she could no longer see the space between them. “Any reason you didn’t mention that about five shots ago?” Sloane asked wryly.
Drawing a deep breath for courage, she slammed the glass and consumed the drink, coughing from the fizz and bubbles until her eyes teared. But she had to admit the man had a point. “That was much better,” she said when she could finally speak.
“My turn.” Kendall laughed, high pitched and loud enough to pierce Sloane’s eardrums. “First the questions. Where did Samson say he was?”
With all they’d consumed, Sloane was amazed they’d been able to keep their focus on needed conversation. She owed Kendall and she’d personally deliver coffee to her tomorrow as a thank-you—if she could lift her own head off the pillow.
Somehow the two women had reached a silent understanding. In order to keep either one of them from getting too drunk, they alternated questions, hence alternated shots. Sloane couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she’d imbibed alone. She’d probably be passed out under the table by now.
Earl shrugged. “Samson didn’t say where he wuz. Then again he never says much. Never calls either, so I was surprised to hear from him,” he said again.
Sloane knew there was a message in there somewhere, but she was too woozy to figure out what. She tipped her head to one side and immediately regretted the quick motion. When the dizziness cleared, she forced herself to think. Samson had called Earl when he’d never called before. She wondered if he’d even had a telephone prior to the explosion.
“Why’d he call you?” Sloane asked.
“Blondie didn’t drink yet,” Earl said, refusing to answer until Kendall remedied her lapse.
Ernie poured and Sloane sighed, waiting for Kendall to drink so they’d get more answers out of Earl. Once he was satisfied, he did a straight shot of his own and turned back to the subject at hand. “Samson figured I’d heard about his house and wondered if he wuz dead.”
Sloane cringed at the casual way Earl spoke, but at least Samson had someone to call when he’d had trouble. Even if Earl didn’t seem like the warmest guy going, he was Samson’s friend.
“Course I hadn’t heard till he told me. I asked him if I’d inherit if he croaked.” He cackled at his callous joke and she winced. “Samson said it wuz none of my business who got his money, but for my information, he had family who’d inhurt—”
“Inherit, you moron,” Ernie chimed in.
Both Kendall and Sloane laughed, but Earl ignored them, merely glaring at his friend.
Sloane grasped onto Earl’s words and wondered if Samson was being his surly self in his reply to Earl or if he really had family. She wondered if he’d actually been referring to her. Her stomach churned with a combination of fear and hope, the upheaval having nothing to do with the alcohol in her system.
“Samson said I wuzn’t getting a red cent,” Earl continued. “But at least the damn ingrate’s still living.”
Despite her fuzzy brain, Sloane heard a hint of affection in Earl’s voice. She refused to believe she imagined it. Someone had to care whether Samson lived or died, and she had to think this gruff old man was her real father’s friend. After all, everyone needed someone in life who cared about them. Samson deserved to have at least that. A lump formed in her throat and suddenly she felt an intense longing for an emotional connection to another human being. One who cared about her.
Her gaze fell to Chase; she met his heated stare and lingered. His expression was still dark and he held up one hand, indicating she had five minutes left. Worry was obvious in his eyes and Sloane knew her heart didn’t lie. He cared. For her.
She tugged his shirt tighter around her, feeling its warmth and accepting the sudden tide of arousal as a natural circumstance of falling in love with him.
“Hey, lady.” Ernie tapped a bottle on the table. “Do you know who’d inherit instead of Earl?” he asked, interrupting Sloane’s thoughts.
And boy, what thoughts those had been. Love? She shivered. Alcohol had a way of distorting reality. She couldn’t possibly be in love with Chase Chandler. Could she?
“Hello? An answer would be nice. We’ve been giving you all the answers you want, but you’re holding out on us.” Earl folded his scrawny arms across his chest, impatient and annoyed.
“I don’t know who Samson would leave his money to,” Sloane said.
Which brought up another question. Did Samson really have money? If so, why continue to live like a poor man with no income? She forced a stare back to the old men at the table, the only ones who’d have any answers. “I’d heard Samson had no family.”
“No friends in Yorkshire Falls to speak of either.” Kendall added her knowledge, trying to help prod for information.
“That’s ’cuz he’s got me ’n’ Ernie here.” Earl tapped himself in the chest, proud of the connection to his friend.
Ernie nodded in agreement. “He don’t need nobody else.”
“And that’s all we’s saying until you drink some more.” Earl followed that pronouncement with a shot of his own. There was no way she could drink any more and Sloane eyed Kendall across the table. The other woman waved a hand, indicating she wasn’t drinking another shot either.
Before Sloane could think of a way to extricate herself, the Chandler brothers appeared by their table. Rick cleared his throat, but Sloane only had eyes for Chase. Tall, dark, and handsome, he was every inch her savior.
She rose, intending to tell him so. She took a step forward, tripped, and fell into his arms.
* * *
“Shit.” Chase grabbed Sloane and wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight with his body. Soft and warm, she also smelled good despite the alcohol she’d consumed and the smoke in the bar. She affected him on the most basic level, the need to protect and care for her stronger than he’d ever experienced before.
“I think I drank too much.” She giggled and leaned against him.
“Really? I’d never have guessed.” He silently cursed the fact that he’d allowed this situation to go on as long as it had.
Rick hauled Kendall out of her seat and into his arms. Chase figured his brother wouldn’t be speaking to him for a good day or so till he cooled down.
Chase turned his attention to the old men. “Okay, boys, your fun’s over for the night. If you hear anything from or about Samson, call me.” Chase handed both Earl and Ernie a business card. Hopefully, one of them wouldn’t lose it.
“Who’d have believed Samson would have people looking for him? I didn’t think anyone ’cept us liked him enough.” Earl shook his head and Sloane was now clinging to Chase, too out of it to realize the importance of Earl’s words.
Her lips began snuggling against Chase’s neck, nipping right below his ear. Keeping his mind on the search for Samson wasn’t easy when she’d aroused him in an instant. Her moist lips against his skin inflamed his senses, and just the feel of her in his arms set off fireworks he couldn’t believe.
“Is someone else looking for Samson?” He somehow managed to ask.
Ernie rose from his seat. “Some man was in here a few nights ago askin’ questions.”
“You didn’t say anything about that.” Sloane perked up and lifted her head off Chase’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She stepped forward but he held her tight. Her balance wouldn’t be good right now.
“’Cuz we were playin’ twenty questions and you didn’t ask.” Earl shook his head, rolling his eyes.
“What’d he look like?” Rick asked in his cop’s voice.
“Samson’s ugly as sin, just like Ernie here.” Earl pointed to his friend.
“There’s no call to be rude.” Ernie pouted like a girl but squared his shoulders, bracing for a fight.
Chase gritted his teeth, while Sloane attempted to stand up straight and pay more attention.
“Let’s start over. What does the man who was asking about Samson l
ook like?” Chase clarified his thought before he had to step between the men and break up a brawl.
“I can’t remember. You?” Earl asked Ernie.
He shook his head. “Nosiree. He wasn’t friendly like and didn’t want to play a game of pool or buy drinks.”
“Which meant you didn’t share information with him?” Chase guessed.
“Correct.” Earl grinned.
Fishing into his pocket, Chase withdrew a hundred-dollar bill he’d put aside earlier. “Listen, boys.” He held out the money. “I’m trusting you to call me with any information on Samson. Anything, do you understand? That means the minute someone comes sniffing around, you pick up the phone.” He waved the greenback by Earl’s face.
“Woo-wee!” The old man snatched the money. “I’ll call you if’n Samson shows up and just picks his nose.”
“I’m thrilled,” Chase said wryly. “But if I find out you knew something and didn’t call, my cop brother here will arrest you for obstruction of justice,” Chase said in his most threatening voice. Neither Earl nor Ernie would realize that jurisdiction probably prohibited Rick from doing any such thing.
And Rick, who was now holding on to his wife, discreetly displayed his holster before letting his jacket slip back to cover the gun.
Earl shoved the bill into his pants pocket and nodded his understanding. “We’ve got a game to play,” he said, obviously wanting to get as far away from Chase and Rick as possible.
Which was fine with Chase. He’d only resorted to threats now to make sure the old men didn’t inadvertently omit information.
At this point, he wanted only to get Sloane sobered up. He’d overheard some, but not all, of the conversation, and he hoped she’d remember the rest in the morning. He’d already covered their bill.
He brushed her wayward curls out of her face. “Come on, sweetheart. Time to get you home.”
“So you can have your wicked way with me?” Catching him off guard, she splayed her body against his. Her breasts crushed into his chest and her lower body met his as she planted a full kiss on his lips.
Pulling her away was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had no choice. He peeled her off him and braced his arms around her so he could lead her outside.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said as they followed Rick and an equally drunk Kendall to the door. “Let’s get you into bed, and if you’re still in the mood, we’ll talk about my wicked ways.”
* * *
Chase carried Sloane into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom, a soft, willing female in his arms and he wanted to be with her more than anything else. His phone rang in his pocket, not the first time tonight and he ignored it. Sloane was compliant to the point of feeling boneless, leaving him completely aware of her sweet scent and the arousing way she nuzzled into him.
He laid her on the bed and she sprawled against the pillow, then crooked a finger his way. “I want to hear more about those wicked ways of yours,” she said in a husky voice.
“And I’m all too happy to show you. After you tell me what Earl and Ernie said about Samson.” He wanted her to talk before she forgot anything she might have learned.
“Earl said Samson’s ugly as sin,” she said. “Is he?”
He wondered if he imagined the lost-little-girl sound in her voice as she asked about the father she’d never met.
“He’s …” Chase had never given a thought to what Samson looked like and tried to paint an accurate picture now. “He’s got graying hair and he’s usually tan because he spends so much time outdoors. He likes the gardens across from Norman’s,” he said, thinking. “And one more thing.” Reaching out, he stroked Sloane’s cheek. “He’s not ugly as sin.”
A soft, grateful smile reached her lips and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to taste. As usual, one taste wasn’t enough and he slanted his mouth wider over hers.
She moaned and met his tongue with hers, crawling closer, never breaking contact. Taking control, he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him. But she obviously wasn’t going to accept submission and she planted openmouthed kisses over his neck, pulling up his shirt so she could repeat the erotic licks and nibbles on his chest.
Without warning, she licked one nipple, then bit down with her teeth.
Hot sensation shot straight to his groin. “Good God.” His body bucked, nearly dislodging her from where she straddled his thighs.
“Someone’s looking for Samson,” she said, suddenly lifting her head.
“Hell of a time to focus, honey. What else do you remember?”
She shook her head. Disheveled strands curled around her face and her makeup had long since disappeared. She looked fresh and wholesome, and gazing at her, he felt emotion swamp him.
“Earl and Ernie didn’t remember what the guy looked like. But they did hear from Samson and he’s holed up somewhere safe. Thank goodness for small favors, right?”
“Right.”
“Isn’t there anyone in Yorkshire Falls who’d take him in?” she asked hopefully.
He spread his hands in front of him, knowing he had no answer to pull out of a hat that would ease her mind. “Raina would let him stay with her, but obviously we’d know if she’d heard from him. Same for Charlotte, and besides, she isn’t in town. I wish I could give you the answers you want to hear, but I can’t.”
“Then give me something else instead.”
He had no doubt what she was asking for and he was all too willing to give what she wanted. They made love twice, frenzied and fast the first time, slow and tender the next.
Chase fell asleep with Sloane in his arms and the sound of his phone ringing in his ear.
Chapter Twelve
Sloane tried to open her eyes but the pain was too great. Lifting her head was impossible. “Who hired the steel band?” she muttered, burying her face into the pillow.
“I think you did,” a familiar masculine voice answered.
“Do I know you?” she asked Chase wryly, barely able to think past the reverberating drums in her head.
She felt the bed dip with his weight as he sat down.
“You knew me last night.” His voice dripped with husky innuendo, and despite the hangover, a delicious warmth curled in her belly.
Still, she knew better than to attempt to laugh and groaned instead. “I can’t believe I drank so much.”
“It’s not like Earl gave you a choice. Here. Try this,” he said as he rolled her to her back and placed a cool cloth on her forehead.
She immediately felt relief. “Mmm. You’re a godsend, Chase Chandler.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got some water and Ibuprofen for you too.”
“I think I need to wait a few minutes before lifting my head,” she mumbled. “What time is it?”
“Seven A.M.”
“I hope Kendall doesn’t feel as bad as I do,” she said, recalling last night more vividly.
She’d come up empty on their search for Samson, but her heart felt full with the memory of making love with Chase. A man she wanted all to herself, yet the harsh truth remained. He didn’t desire the same thing and the existence of the other woman in his life, the one named Cindy, merely validated her belief. Sloane was only a diversion for Chase Chandler until they went their separate ways.
But she didn’t want anyone or anything between them now. With the compress covering her forehead and eyes, she didn’t literally have to face him and it seemed the perfect time to ask. “You said Cindy wasn’t simple to explain, but the longer we’re together, no matter how temporary, it bothers me that you’re involved with someone else.”
“I ended things with Cindy.” His voice sounded clear and strong, shocking her with the admission.
Sloane swallowed hard. “You did? Why?” she asked, still not opening her eyes.
“I should think that would be obvious.” Leaning forward, he touched his lips to hers.
At that moment, more memories of last night resurfaced and she recalled thinking that she�
�d fallen in love with him. It hadn’t been a drunken thought but rather one from the heart. Opening her mouth, she greeted him with all the passion, desire, and love swelling inside her.
But his ringing telephone interrupted them, and with a groan, Chase grabbed the cell off the nightstand by the bed. “Chandler.”
Sloane waited, her head still pounding as hard as her heart, but for different reasons now. She’d fallen for this Chandler man, one who wanted no family, no future with any woman because he’d already had his fill of responsibility. He’d lived life out of order and Sloane would have to pay for that by letting him go and live his dreams when the time came.
“Mom’s in the hospital?” Chase’s voice halted her more selfish thoughts.
Raina was sick? Oh no. Sloane had sensed as much but Rick and Chase had insisted it was a ruse, a game to get her boys to settle down. It wasn’t, and she should have insisted he look closer.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, turning to face Sloane. “I have to go.”
She’d already figured that out. “What happened?”
“Mom had severe chest pains in the middle of the night and called an ambulance.”
* * *
The truth slammed into Chase’s chest with brutal force. Raina had called him first, but he’d been otherwise engaged. With Sloane.
For the first time ever, he’d been too busy to check ringing phone, and stellar newsman that he’d become, he’d been too preoccupied to check this morning.
Family had always come first, until now. And look at the end result. He stood and grabbed for his pants.
“Let me go with you.” Sloane sat up higher in bed and groaned, reaching for her head with her hands. “God, it’s like a drummer took up residence.”
He was better off going alone so he could concentrate. And regroup. “You stay. I’ll call and check in,” he promised.
“What happened? I thought your mother’s heart condition was fake?” she asked, her concern all too genuine.
The Heartbreaker Page 16
