by CP Smith
Chase hadn’t changed much in the years since I’d seen him, but that didn’t surprise me. He was good-looking in that boy-next-door sort of way that aged slowly over time, retaining a youthful appearance well into their fifties. What did surprise me, though, was the spark that had always sent my heart racing when he walked into a room was suddenly absent. I felt nothing looking at him. There was no flutter in my stomach, no shallow breaths, no sweaty palms or stuttered words. Nothing. The only thing I felt when I looked at Chase now was embarrassment for my behavior toward him—and a painful, vivid truth. The truth was, I’d never been in love with him in the first place. No, I’d been in love with the idea of being rescued by the white knight. In love with the idea of someone sweeping me off my feet and carrying me away from my family. In love with the idea of love.
I was such an idiot.
Until that moment, my greatest regret had been throwing myself at Chase when he was engaged. But now, face-to-face with the once object of my affection, my greatest regret was for a whole other reason. It was for the time I’d lost fixated on him when I should have been focused on having fun. My yesterdays were behind me and I’d spent them irresponsibly. I should have forgotten about my parents and charted my own course for my life. Instead, I’d watched from the sidelines, licking my wounds, waiting for the day my storybook knight would look my way and see me. Save me.
If I’d spent less time fixated on my parents’ shortcomings, I might have tasted the variety of man-boys at my fingertips rather than focusing on one, and would have learned the difference between infatuation and soul-deep attraction, saving myself years of heartache.
Real attraction, one that melts your bones and leaves you unable to speak, leaves you tossing in your bed with a burning need that can only be tamed by one man, is completely different than a crush.
Looking at Chase, I knew the difference now. I’d experienced that stomach dropping, mind-numbing attraction recently, and the difference was glaringly obvious.
Sneaking a peek at Bo Strawn as Chase went on about how great it was to see me again, I bit my lip to keep from groaning. I’d had a visceral reaction to Bo when he’d yelled at the Wallflowers for butting into Devin’s case, but I’d written it off as nerves. I knew better now. Bo was like no other man I’d met. He was arrogant, bold, in-your-face-dominant, and had a body that made my mouth run dry. He gave the impression of a man who was coiled with power. Power he kept in check. The attraction I felt each time I looked at him was off the charts, and I knew if my twenty-year-old self had seen Bo standing next to Chase, there would have been no contest. Bo would have won hands down.
Where Chase was lean, Bo was broad and muscled. Where Chase was spit-shined and coiffed in his linen pants and sparkling white shirt, Bo was rugged in Wranglers, boots, and a faded T-shirt. Where Chase’s hair was styled, not a strand out of place, Bo’s hair was longer, wilder, sexier. The two men couldn’t be more different. In the best possible ways.
I was attracted to Bo in a way I’d never been to Chase. That much was clear after he threatened to put me over his knee and the thought made my legs go weak with want. And when I’d thought he was going to kiss me, I’d grabbed hold of his arms in welcome anticipation, further solidifying how attracted I was. We were standing on a beach full of police officers and reporters, and they’d all disappeared from view when Bo had leaned in close. I’d wanted him, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Wanted him to claim my mouth with half of Tybee Island watching. But he hadn’t kissed me. He’d only been leaning in to whisper in my ear.
Like Chase, he’d left me standing alone on the beach without so much as a backward glance, verifying what I’d already suspected. The attraction was one-sided. I was invisible to him just like I’d been invisible to Chase.
That hadn’t stopped my growing attraction, though. In the last three days, I’d dreamt about his hot breath on my neck, his hard lines pressed against my body, and his firm hand on my ass, which only fueled more fantasies. Fantasies that included being tied to a bed as his body moved over mine or using my mouth on him as he controlled the rhythm. Fantasies that a Wallflower with no experience shouldn’t be having, and I called myself all kinds of an idiot. Because once again, I wanted a man who couldn’t have cared less about me.
In light of this revelation, I concluded that I had to be fundamentally screwed up by my parents to only fall for men who didn’t want me. Though, in Bo’s case, he didn’t just dislike me. No, he hated me for repeatedly ignoring his orders when Cali was kidnapped, and I had no doubt if he knew I fantasized nightly about him, he would laugh in my face.
Since I was clearly a masochist in disguise, I stole another glance at Bo out of the corner of my eye and caught him looking up at us. If his expression was anything to go by, I’d say he still wanted to throttle me within an inch of my life. Yet, even in the face of his obvious dislike, all I could think about was how handsome his face looked when his brow drew into a hard line across his face. Or that his set jaw, ticking with anger, was sexy as hell.
See? I’m fundamentally screwed in the head.
Who knowingly wants a man who can’t stand the sight of them?
“Sienna?” Chase questioned.
“Hmm?” I answered, distracted.
Bo’s gray eyes had turned into slits as he scowled up at us. Their color reminded me of quicksilver, but they morphed into a raging storm cloud when he was pissed. Unfortunately, I’d seen storm-cloud gray more often than the shimmering silver.
Chase reached out and touched my arm, and I jumped, looking up at him. I regarded him for the first time through the eyes of an adult who had learned her lesson and saw nothing but my brother’s friend.
It was such a relief to finally be free of my infatuation, that the tension I’d been holding on to since he walked up evaporated, and my face softened with the realization that I was truly free of him. Free to move forward and not look back.
“Like I said, I’m in town for a few days, and I’d love to catch up,” Chase went on. “So what do you think? Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight?”
What?
I mean, WHAT?
Am I in The Twilight Zone?
No way was I going to dinner with this guy. For one, I threw myself at him like an idiot when he was engaged. And two, I threw myself at him like an idiot, and it was humiliating!
“Umm,” I answered, then looked at Poppy and lied through my teeth. “Sorry, but Poppy and I have plans.”
“Right,” she answered, not missing a beat, taking my back like any good Wallflower would.
“Then we can catch up tomorrow,” he tried again, and I panicked.
“I, ah . . . I have to go out of town on important publishin’ business. I’m, um, leavin’ in the mornin’.”
That wasn’t exactly a lie. Alexandra was out of town for a whole week, so Poppy and I had scheduled our vacations to coincide with her trip months ago. Neither of us had to report back to work for eight days. We’d planned to go to Atlanta for a week of shopping and nightlife, but with all the excitement surrounding Cali’s kidnapping, we hadn’t left.
He looked between Poppy and me and then smiled knowingly.
That’s right, Chaser, I’m making excuses. Just accept it and move along.
“Sorry to hear that. When I saw you sittin’ here, I’d hoped we could get together and catch up. You know, for old time’s sake.”
A tinge of guilt hit me, since he was obviously trying to mend fences that I’d torn down, and I almost gave in. Then I remembered how humiliated I’d been, and I bit my lip. I’d lost enough time because of this man, and just as my sweet grandmother always said, “Nothin’ good comes from visitin’ past hurts.”
“You know how it is. No rest for the weary. Gotta keep pourin’ out those romance novels for the masses,” I rattled on like a loon.
Please leave before I humiliate myself again!
He smiled and nodded, then pulled out his wallet. “I tell you what. Take my card, that way you c
an call me if your plans change,” he said, pulling a business card from his wallet. Then he hesitantly leaned in, to my surprise and confusion, and brushed a soft kiss across my cheek, mumbling, “Good seein’ you again. Hope you call so we can catch up,” before turning to head down the stairs.
“Tell me that didn’t just happen?” I whispered to Poppy as I watched Chase leave with two men who were waiting for him by the front door.
“Oh, it happened,” Poppy chuckled next to me. “And considerin’ you threw yourself at him the last time you saw him, it shows he’s a nice guy.”
I started to say, “He must have had one too many drinks during lunch because that’s the only explanation for this Twilight Zone moment,” but Bo Strawn stood from his stool and started to make his way toward the door, glancing up at me with a scowl before he left. He looked pissed like always, and I was tempted to stick out my tongue again to cover my attraction, but my heart flipped instead and plunged into my stomach like a lead ball. He would never see me as anything but an annoyance.
Time to nip this attraction in the bud before I lose any more time to unavailable men.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I answered. “Why would he want to have dinner with me after what happened?”
Poppy looked back at the door and shrugged.
“I think we’ve already established that Wallflowers don’t understand men very well, so I’d only be guessin’.”
I looked at Chase’s card for a moment, then tossed it on the table—done with the man—and grabbed my purse from my chair.
“You know what else Wallflowers don’t know much about until it hits them smack between the eyes?”
“You mean besides men, clothes, and identifyin’ crazed killers you work with day in and day out?”
I nodded firmly. The crazed killer one definitely got past us.
“Yes. Besides those glaringly obvious ones.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What else are Wallflowers uniquely unqualified to understand?”
“The difference between infatuation and soul-deep, unadulterated attraction,” I replied with authority.
Poppy’s eyes shot to the bar below, then back to mine. “How do you know the difference?” she asked curiously.
“Simple,” I answered. “One makes your heart go pitter-patter.”
“And the other?” she questioned on the heel of my answer.
“Your heart doesn’t go pitter-patter. It stampedes like a wild mustang, never to be tamed.”
Her eyes grew wider at my explanation, and in a hushed voice she asked, “Is that what you felt talking with Chase?”
I smiled again. “Not. Even. Close. I’m free, Poppy. I don’t love him. I never did. I was in love with the idea of love, and it scrambled my brain. I didn’t understand that until today.”
Poppy’s eye began to twinkle with delight. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“That I’m free?”
“Oh, no. It means you’re next. Cali found Devin; now it’s your turn.”
“Ah, we’re both next,” I explained as I leaned over and grabbed my laptop from the table and shoved it into my bag. “And since I lied about goin’ out of town with Alexandra, it’s time we decided what we’re doin’ next week. Why don’t we go out tonight and practice flirtin’ while we decide if we’re headed to Atlanta or not.”
Poppy slipped her arm into mine, and we headed for the stairs. “I’ll be your wingwoman, but I don’t think I’m ready to try yet.”
I started to argue with her, but Cali emerged from the back with Devin as we hit the first floor. Her hair was tousled, and the glassy look in her eyes said Devin had done more than talk like Cali had said. And from the condition of her clothes, I say he used his hands to get his point across.
“Are you leavin’?” Cali called out.
“We have to get ready for a Wallflowers’ night out,” Poppy answered.
“You’re goin’ out?” she asked with a fair amount of enthusiasm.
“Yep. Sienna had a breakthrough, and we’re gonna celebrate while we plan our vacation.”
Cali looked back at Devin and gave him a pouty lip. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then pointed at her and growled, “No speed datin’.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she replied, saluting him.
His lip twitched, then he grabbed her neck and crushed his mouth over hers. When she melted into him and opened her mouth, Nate threw a towel at them both and grumbled, “My patrons are tryin’ to eat. Take that shit back to my office.”
Poppy snorted at Nate’s reply, then moved behind the bar. She grabbed plastic to-go cups and began filling them with cold drafts of beer. Nate turned to look at her with more than a little bit of surprise and raised a brow. She countered with her own and said, “What? We need refreshments for our night out.”
Nate dropped his head back and bit out, “Christ,” then grabbed Poppy by the arm and led her out from behind the bar. “If the Health Department catches you behind my bar, I’ll get fined,” he grumbled, but I noted he went back to the draft and finished filling our cups, placing them on the bar for us.
We each grabbed one and raised them in salute to Nate before leaving.
Cali blew Devin a kiss before we turned and headed for the door, snorting at the man when he sighed heavily. “Try not to get kidnapped. I’d like one quiet weekend to get settled into my office before you drag me into another mess.”
“He has a selective memory,” Poppy chuckled. “You didn’t drag him into anything.”
“He says if I’d stayed inside like I promised, I wouldn’t have been kidnapped by Gayla,” she explained.
“Of course, he does,” I scoffed. “He clearly forgot who brought Gayla to your doorstep in the first place.”
“Right? So, what was your breakthrough?” Cali asked as we hit the sidewalk on River Street.
I looked at her and grinned. “You missed it while you were tangling tongues with Devin.”
“Missed what?”
“My past settin’ me free.”
Bo pushed through the crowded sidewalk, his attention zeroed in on the back of a man he didn’t know but instinctively hated. He told himself to get in his truck, to let it be and leave, but he’d ignored his better judgment and kept following the man and his friends as they wandered River Street in historic Savannah, Georgia. There was something about the guy that bugged him, something that put his protective instincts on high alert. Something other than the fact Sienna seemed affected by him, and he was determined to find out.
Her reaction to the man, who his friends called Chase, unsettled him for reasons he wanted to ignore. But the memory of her expression, as it softened in response to whatever Chase had said, rattled him in a territorial way. He didn’t want to want her, but that didn’t negate the fact that he did, and seeing her brown eyes turn from shocked to relaxed, then wistful as the man spoke burned a hole in his gut and had him reacting irrationally.
His jaw ticked at the memory, and he kept moving, staying a safe enough distance behind them so he could observe the man without being detected. He’d hoped they would make their way to a vehicle so he could grab a tag number; he preferred investigating someone in the anonymity of his office as opposed to tailing at close range. He had no choice, though. If the guy was bad news, he needed to know in order to protect Sienna. At least that’s what he told himself as he stopped to watch the three men cast their eyes on a woman as she strutted past, whistling while gesturing vulgarly behind her back.
Definitely an asshole who needs to steer clear of Sienna.
The fact that her intoxicating scent followed him into his dreams each night or that her soulful eyes called out to him in the early morning hours as he wrapped his hand around his cock to ease the ache she’d caused had nothing to do with his suspicion. No, it was the smug look on the man’s face as he descended the stairs that had him on alert. He reeked of player. The type of man an innocent Wallflower should steer clear of.
&nbs
p; Bo inched closer to Chase and his friends, the need to expose him as an asshole directing his actions. When the group stopped at a souvenir store and went inside, Bo started to follow, but he paused when he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror. The image reflected back at him was wired, on edge, and it stopped him in his tracks.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Losin’ your fuckin’ mind,” he answered.
Staring at his mirrored image, he recognized the expression. He’d seen it before on his own father’s face. Knew then it was time to throw in the towel before he got sucked in deeper, but Chase moved into his line of sight before he could leave, so he watched him a moment longer.
That’s when he noticed the wedding ring.
He saw blinding red then, and all thoughts of abandoning his pursuit for the truth flew out the window. He’d seen the lust in the man’s eyes when he’d looked at Sienna, and knowing he had a wife sitting at home ignited his anger further.
Moving to the side, Bo leaned against the doorjamb and waited. He’d finish what he started. He’d find out who this guy was and warn him off Sienna, then he could forget about the Wallflower once and for all.
While Bo waited, Chase bought a woman’s T-shirt, explaining to the cashier it was for his wife, and Bo’s teeth ground together. As the group exited the shop, one of his friends finally asked the question that Bo needed answered: who was this guy to Sienna?
“So the blonde at the bar? You never explained about her.”
“Nothin’ to explain. She’s a hot piece of ass who was hung up on me in college. She threw herself at me when she found out I was gettin’ married, so I figured I’d throw her a bone. I played the nice guy angle, and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“So you’re hookin’ up with her later?”
Chase shrugged arrogantly. “The way she wanted me,” he chuckled, “I figure she’ll call any minute, then I’ll wine and dine her until the alcohol sets the fuckin’ mood.”
An overabundance of testosterone can send rational men into fits of rage. Bo had more testosterone than the average male, and he kept a close check on his temper because of it. Then there were times like these when rational thought fell by the wayside and his natural instincts kicked in.
