Seagrove Secrets (Love Along Hwy 30A)

by Melissa Chambers

  Ashe raised his wine glass. “Oh, yeah you do.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just looking around.”

  “So what’s the scoop with Shayla?” Sebastian asked. “It will not leave this table.” Sebastian gave the other two a stern look, and they both pretended to lock their mouths.

  “There’s no scoop,” he said, looking over at her. “In fact, she shut my ass down in no uncertain terms just a little while ago, before the fab forty club honed in over there.”

  “Oh, man. That’s tough,” Ashe said.

  “How exactly did she shut you down?” Desiree asked, leaning in with her chin resting on her threaded fingers.

  Chase scratched his neck. “I don’t know.”

  Desiree lifted an eyebrow.

  “All right. Well, she said I was a womanizer, basically.”

  “Any truth to that?” Ashe asked. “I’m just asking.”

  Chase let out a huff of air, “It’s true I haven’t had a relationship in a while.”

  “How long’s a while?” Desiree asked.

  Chase met her gaze. “A while.”

  “Why do you think that is?” she asked without judgement, but still.

  He looked around the place. “What is this, a therapy session?”

  Sebastian put his hand on the table. “Yes, and it’s free. Take advantage.”

  Chase rolled his eyes. “I’ve got some issues, I guess.”

  “Were you hurt before?” Desiree asked.

  Chase thought about the night his brother showed up on his doorstep. The desperation that consumed him when he gave them the news. The look of pure horror on Rachel’s face.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did she cheat on you?” Ashe asked.

  Chase thought about Rachel’s Facebook page, her perfect, four-person family, the child she had so soon after they’d lost theirs. The betrayal.

  “Yeah.”

  Desiree walked around the table and took Chase into her arms. This was not the time or the place to let any emotion out. He could do that in his room later on. He hugged her back and then patted her on the shoulder and pulled away. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  Desiree put her fingertips to his chin. “Sweetie, you are anything but fine.”

  He glanced over at Shayla who was listening to one of the bozos tell a story. He had to get out of there. “I need to leave. Can any of you drop Shayla home when she’s ready?”

  Sebastian squeezed his arm. “We got it, hun. You go on.”

  He nodded at Sebastian. “Thank you.” He turned to Desiree and Ashe with a half-ass smile, and then headed out the door. He drove down 30A, headed back toward his house, but at the last minute, he turned the car up a side street that led to Highway 98, and eventually to Alligator Alley in PCB. It was the stuffy wine bar that had gotten to him, that was all. He needed to be with a different class of people, ones who didn’t judge him or expect a goddamned thing from him. He swung the door open and headed to the bar.

  “Hey, Chase,” Bobby said. “I haven’t seen you in here in months.”

  “Yep, that’s my fault. Give me a Bud on draft. I’ve been drinking Pinot Noir tonight. I need to grow my balls back.”

  Bobby smiled. That’s right. Chase could do that. He could make people smile. He was good at that.

  Chase made eye contact with two girls sitting at the bar across from him, late twenties he guessed. He smiled, and they smiled back. It was so damn easy for him.

  Bobby handed him the beer, and he held it up to the girls, and they held up their cocktails. Sunburnt skin, too much makeup, low-cut tops. These two had tourist plastered onto their foreheads. Candy from a baby.

  He walked over there and held out his hand. “I’m Chase.”

  They each shook his hand, the second one holding it and his gaze for a while.

  “I was actually just headed to the ladies,” the other one said, and the two exchanged a smile.

  The girl looked him up and down. “Wow, you’re really big.” Her eyes slid to his dick and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Just what he needed. Cliché opening lines and fuck-me gazes. “Yes ma’am, I am.”

  Shayla waved to Sebastian backing out of the driveway, and then opened the back gate to find Chase sitting slumped down in a chair by the pool, his long legs sprawled out as he studied a beer bottle in his hand.

  “There he is,” she said, looking him up and down. “Where’d you go?”

  “Alligator Alley.”

  “That’s a ways from home just for a drink when there were plenty at the wine bar.”

  “I wanted a Bud.”

  She shrugged, walking around the pool on the opposite side from him. “That’s your prerogative.” She fumbled with her keys, locating the one that opened the door to the pool house. “You’re back pretty early to have driven all the way there.”

  “I just had one beer,” he said. “I didn’t want you coming home to an empty house with no security guard.”

  She stared at him, and he finally looked up at her. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “What if I wanted to do that?” he asked.

  She gave a huff, eyeing her keys and then him. “Do I need to rewind episode two, or can you catch up if we start in on episode three?”

  He gave that grin that made her nuts and then stood. “I thought you fell asleep, too.”

  Busted. “I may have made it to the end of two. We should probably rewind a little just in case.”

  He walked over to her, slow and deliberate. She looked down at her keys and then back up at him when he got close. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” she said.

  He shrugged. “You were being honest. You should never be sorry about that.”

  “I like you, Chase. But I’ve got some shit going on right now. I can’t offer you anything but friendship. Can you accept that?”

  “I can.”

  She unlocked the door but turned back to him before opening it. “Did you meet anyone at Alligator Alley?”

  He furrowed his brow, and then gave a resigned breath. “Nobody that mattered, at least to me.”

  She stared at him, a life with him flashing before her eyes. Everything was wonderful at first. She felt adored and treasured. Then he’d leave for a trip to Vegas or somewhere equally tempting, and she’d be worried about him sleeping with someone else, just how Brian used to worry about that with her for no reason whatsoever.

  She shook her head, rattling loose her own psychosis. She nodded at his beer. “Go get us a few more of those, and I’ll get changed.”

  He held up his beer bottle. “Will do.”

  She dressed for bed, leaving her bra on, though she really wanted it off. That would definitely send signals, and she wasn’t trying to do that, though she desperately wanted to.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she snuck a peek at herself in the bathroom mirror before heading to it…exactly what Chase had said he didn’t like to see a woman do, but now she was paranoid she had a booger hanging out of her nose.

  She opened the door to find him in athletic shorts and a red T-shirt which suited him so well. He pulled a bottle out of the six pack he was holding and handed it to her. “Pilsner, I assume.”

  “You assume right. Are you gonna drink it, too?”

  He twirled the box around. “I’ve got IPA in here for me.” She gave a shudder and he headed to the fridge. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

  She plopped down on the bed and aimed the remote at the television. “I can’t believe you drove all the way to Alligator Alley for a beer.”

  He eased his way over to the bed and sat, holding out his hand for her beer. She gave it to him and he popped the top with a bottle opener. “What are you getting at, Harrison?”

  She looked at the television. “Nothing.”

  “What about you with the mid-life crisis club.”

  She tried to hold back her grin. “Seriously?”

  “All right, the soccer dads then. How’d you ma
ke out with them?”

  “I’d say by the current hour that we both struck out tonight.” She glanced down at her phone and winced at Scott’s name across her screen. Missed call.

  She held her phone face down on her leg. “I’ve got to make a quick call. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out to the pool and called Scott.

  “Hey, I hope I didn’t bother you,” he said.

  “I’m the one who called you, aren’t I?”

  “You saw where I called though,” he said.

  She paced slowly beside the deep end of the pool. “This is true. So, I got the ball started on the eviction notice today.”

  “He got served?” Scott asked.

  “No, not yet. But he will be served the Monday after the wedding.”

  “That’s over two weeks away.”

  “I know. I just need things to go as smoothly as possible between now and then. This is Bo’s time. I don’t want Brian freaking out and doing anything to worry him. Right now Bo’s biggest worry is that I’m going to get back with him.”

  Scott huffed a laugh. “He’s misinformed.”

  “Let’s keep it that way. If he gets a clue of what really went on, it’ll ruin this time for him,” she said, watching a little frog hop away into the grass.

  “Understood.”

  “How’s work? Is Brian back yet?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, glad he was getting back into a routine, as much as she hated it for Scott. “Has he confronted you?”

  “Nah. Just a couple of hard stares in the hallway. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  She let out a breath. “Scott, I’m so—”

  “Don’t, Shayla. It’s fine. Have you thought any more about the wedding, about me coming?”

  She rested against the short brick wall that framed the outdoor kitchen, scratching her neck. She didn’t know how to say no to this request. She’d tried the approach that she didn’t want him to bother himself with it, and the just-friends rigmarole, and he was still asking. She was running out of reasons he couldn’t come. And the truth was, she didn’t have a date for the wedding. She damn sure wasn’t going to go with Chase and stress Bo out. In fact, if she took Scott that would probably ease Bo’s stress, her being with someone other than Chase.

  “I really do hate to ask you to come all the way down here for this.”

  “You’re not asking. I am.”

  She glanced over at the pool house, not that she could see in. “It’d be good to see you.”

  “Great,” he said, and she hoped like hell she was doing the right thing.

  She hung up with Scott and headed back to the pool house where Chase was lying on her bed, propped up by his pillow, a hand behind his head, beer bottle resting on his lap. His eyes were on the television screen which was playing the last bit of episode two.

  “Sorry,” she said, stepping in front of the television and then getting in bed next to him.

  “Soccer dad?” he asked, still staring at the television.

  She supposed she did owe him an explanation, especially after she’d kissed him last night.

  “That was my friend Scott from Nashville.”

  “The one who’s coming to the wedding?”

  “Yeah, actually, he is.”

  Chase nodded, gaze trained on the television.

  “He’s just a friend,” she said.

  He looked over at her. “Like me?”

  That was a loaded question if she’d ever heard one. “Well, I’ve never kissed him, so not exactly like you.”

  “Ah, poor bastard.”

  She gave him a look. “It’s not like that,” she said, but not sure if it was true or not. “You have no idea how he feels about me.”

  “I bet I do.”

  “I’m not that popular, Chase.”

  He bit on his lip, shaking his head like he was trying not to say something.

  “If you have something to say, just freaking say it, okay?” she said, with a little more force than she intended.

  He sat up. “Okay, you seem like a pretty perceptive person. Do you really think he’s not into you?”

  She let a huff of air out of her nose.

  He offered a hand. “My point exactly.”

  “I don’t know how he feels. But I do know that I’ve made it crystal clear that I’m not interested in him for anything other than friendship.”

  “So he just wants to travel four hundred miles down here for your brother’s wedding, why, because he loves weddings?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about here, Chase.”

  “You’re damn sure right about that. You don’t tell me jack shit even though I’m pretty sure I’ve made it crystal clear that I care about you and want to help.”

  She rubbed her forehead, the pressure bearing down on her. “There’s not anything you can help with, not now.”

  “But there was a few months ago? Before I knew you?”

  She scratched her scalp, her throat threatening to close. She nodded, just slightly.

  He took the beer from her hand and set it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Turning back to her, he said in a soft voice, “What happened, Shayla, with your ex?”

  “I told you,” she said, her voice weak. She cleared her throat and spoke with mustered strength. “He went into rehab.”

  “What was the catalyst for that?” he asked.

  She cut her eyes at him and looked down at her hands which were grabbing the comforter without her even realizing she was doing it. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. The idea of what had happened was too overwhelmingly humiliating.

  “Did he hit you, Shayla?”

  She shook her head slightly, an automatic response.

  “Did he hit you?” This time Chase’s words were distinct and sure.

  “No,” she said, her voice sounding like a little girl’s.

  He took her hand in his and she used the back of her other hand to wipe her eye.

  “Did he hit you, Shayla,” he said again, but he wasn’t asking this time. He was telling.

  She shook her head, but met his gaze wanting him to understand everything without her having to explain it. Wanting him to see that she hated being labeled a victim and that she was not the type of person to be a victim. She wanted him to see that she was strong and independent, not weak and fragile and in need of help from virtual strangers. She wanted him to know she hated running back to PCB, and she hated the fact that she’d done so to be near her brothers and Blake and even certain redneck guys who she’d gone to high school with who she’d never call on for help but would be there in seconds if she ever needed it. She wanted him to know that this was not who she was, and this was not how she saw her life playing out at thirty-six years old…casualty of an abusive relationship, one that would cause her to distrust men and strip her of her own self-worth, her bravery, and her pride.

  He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand. “This guy who you just talked to, did he help you?” She met Chase’s gaze with a nod. Chase nodded back as if in approval or understanding. “Good.”

  He ran his hand over her hair and then back to her face, pulling the stray hairs away. She closed her eyes, letting his touch permeate her skin. He cupped her face with both hands, and she kept her eyes closed, head down. She couldn’t look at him right now, because if she did, she’d let him kiss her, and she couldn’t do that.

  He kissed the top of her forehead, and she whispered, “Don’t tell Bo.”

  “I won’t,” he said.

  She reached over for the remote, the DVD having gone back to the main menu. She started the next episode and allowed herself to snuggle into his chest to watch it. She wouldn’t make a habit of it, but tonight she needed to feel the rise and fall of his chest against hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Season finale tonight. Are you ready to say bye to Bill and the ladies?

  Shayla smiled dow
n at Chase’s text, having to admit that she wasn’t. Today did feel like an ending of sorts. Tomorrow, everything changed.

  For the past two weeks, Shayla and Chase had been playing house. One of them would bring home or make dinner, and they would eat it in Shayla’s bed in the little pool house while they watched Big Love. He’d even snuck a toothbrush over there. He slid it in the toothbrush holder like it belonged there. Neither of them mentioned it, but every time she saw it there she smiled.

  Every night, Scott called at nine. Chase would pause the show and say he needed to grab something from the house to give her privacy. Some nights he came back sooner than others, but he never asked her what Scott wanted.

  Felicity had called as well, and Shayla had offered the same courtesy, though it killed her. There was no doubt about it. Shayla was falling headfirst for Chase, and she was flat-out jealous of this other girl who knew him more intimately than she did. But what could she say? Not a damn thing.

  She brought grilled chicken salads home for dinner. She and Chase had not been discreet with their eating these past two weeks. It was all about comfort food, and she feared she wasn’t going to be able to get in the bridesmaid dress she’d been fitted into a week and a half ago.

  She texted him when she got home, and he texted back that he was on his way. It was really stupid that they were basically living in this tiny pool house when they had Chase’s big, beautiful house steps away. But Shayla was considering everything for the past two weeks a fantasy. She’d get back to real life after the wedding. That’s when the eviction notice would be served, and that’s when the clock would start on getting Brian out of her house and out of her life.

  She left the door ajar for Chase, but he still knocked on it as he came in. He eyed the salads. “Is this a hint?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to wear that dress hanging in the closet Saturday.”

  He frowned. “Yeah, I’m sure those tux pants I was fitted for last week will be snug. I guess I should have thought about that before I brought home Chinese food last night.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “That chicken lo mein was good.”

  “Damn right it was.” He plopped down on the bed beside her and opened his salad.

  “You like balsamic, right?” she asked, hoping she remembered that right from last week when they’d had salads with the pasta he brought home.