by Ava Miles
Oh, good Lord. “You got me, Evan. I was planning on telling Gary about me and Chase first thing tomorrow morning.”
Evan barked out a laugh. “All right, you two wild and crazy kids. I’ll leave you alone and head back to the wife. Have a good time.”
Wild and crazy kids? She’d smack him if he didn’t sign her paychecks. Instead she gave a weak smile and watched him leave.
Chase laughed. “Good thing I have one good hand. You’re not easy to keep a handle on.”
“Let that be a lesson to you,” she told him. And, after checking that the coast was clear, she proceeded to kiss him senseless.
Chapter 23
Was there any city more magical than Rome?
Caroline could scarcely sit still as the plane descended, lowering through magical clouds until blue sky surrounded her on all sides. The sun beamed bright orange rays of sunset. The flight had been close to ten hours, and she wondered how J.T. had simply hopped on a plane to Denver last minute given the extensive travel time.
She’d left Friday night and done her best to sleep in the bed in the master suite on the plane. What a luxury that had been. According to her time zone calculations—Rome being eight hours ahead of Denver—they were arriving on time, shortly after five o’clock. The landing was flawless, like everything had been so far, from the driver who’d picked her up to take her to the airport to the plane’s crew.
Her personal flight attendant helped her deplane. As she walked down the stairs, she caught sight of J.T. jogging toward her in what looked like olive corduroys and a brown cashmere sweater.
“Hey!” he called out, arms wide open. “You’re here.”
He met her at the bottom of the stairs. That dimple she’d decided not to notice winked at her, as big as his smile.
“Hi,” she said, feeling a little awkward in the face of his super-charged personality.
“I’m so happy to see you, I could kiss you.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Italian style, of course.”
She turned her cheek to him, feeling warmth spread across her face, as he did just that. “I’m happy to be here. Your plane is incredible.”
“Glad you like her,” J.T. said. “I’m partial. We’ve been together a long time. Come. Giacomo is getting your bags.”
She’d only be staying for three days, so she’d brought a single suitcase. “You didn’t have to pick me up. I could have taken a cab.”
“Nonsense! What kind of host would that make me? Plus, I plan to spend all the time I can with you.”
From the way he was looking at her, so openly excited, she knew he meant it. “Are we heading to the paintings straight away?”
He waved his hand. “I’m no slave driver. I expect the crew fed you, but how about a glass or two of wine somewhere before I show you the collection? There’s this trattoria I adore with the best view of Rome. Unless you’re tired and want to nap?”
She made a raspberry sound. “Nap? I’m in Rome for three days! I don’t plan on sleeping.”
He waggled his brows. “Good answer. You can sleep on the way back.” Extending his arm to her like an old-world gentleman, he said, “Come on, Caroline. Let’s go have some fun.”
It didn’t take long for Caroline to decide she rather liked his idea of fun. They sat at a corner window table in a quaint trattoria as the sun went down, and the wine was as bold and engaging as Caroline’s companion. They were through a whole bottle before she knew it, and she had a pleasant buzz going. When he moved to order another, she shook her head.
“I’d better not,” she said. “I’m a lightweight in the liquor department.”
“Wine isn’t liquor,” he said, shaking his head in disagreement. “It’s like Galileo said. ‘Wine is sunlight, held together by water.’”
“You sound like my sister-in-law, Jane,” she said, watching as their swarthy waiter appeared with another bottle. My God, are all the men in Rome gorgeous? “Hi,” she said to the server.
She could tell J.T. was laughing silently from the way his shoulders were shaking. “You are a lightweight, but that’s okay. I’m a pro. We’ll make a killer combination. You were telling me about Jane.”
“She can pick the maker and year of just about any French wine blindfolded. Or was it blind tested? I can’t remember.”
“Good thing she’s married then,” J.T. joked. “Sounds like my kind of woman. Catch me up on your family. It’s been a long time since those magical summers my family spent in Dare Valley.”
And so she caught him up. He seemed to eat up all the news about the expanding Hale family and the additions to the booming town.
“I’ve been hearing from Uncle Arthur for a few years now about all the new businesses. It sounds like it’s becoming a small town with cosmopolitan flavor.”
She took a moment to consider that. “That’s a good description.”
“Tell me more about the businesses,” he said.
Their conversation about Dare Valley took them into a late dinner at a cozy restaurant solely lit by candles. She was floating by now and had laughed so hard at J.T.’s quirky comments and jokes her stomach hurt. But she made a decent dent in her meal of shaved scallops with black truffle—to die for—a mushroom risotto that redefined mushrooms, sea bass with braised endive, and salt-crusted pigeon, something J.T. insisted was the best meat entrée on the menu. He wasn’t wrong.
By the time dessert rolled around, a scrumptious ricotta cake topped with brandied plums, she’d told him everything about her family. She’d even told one of her favorite childhood stories about Matt and Andy jumping into a pit of mud after torrential rains, pretending they were having a mud bath.
“Since you like mud and all,” she told him, finishing the last bite of her cake.
“I even like desserts that look like mud,” he said, holding up his spoon, covered in chocolate hazelnut pudding. “You’re not safe around me.”
She gestured to the casual navy dress she’d worn with gray leggings and tan suede boots, an outfit she was happy to have worn on the plane since there hadn’t been a break to change for dinner. “You’ll get thrown out of this place if you so much as put a dollop on me.”
A mischievous glint flashed in his piercing green eyes. “Don’t think you’re safe. I know the owner.”
“Oh, I’m so scared,” she said, waving her hands dramatically.
“Up for a cheese plate?” he asked.
“No freaking way,” she said, patting her belly. “I’m set to explode as it is.”
“I’d appreciate a warning so I can duck out. I hate watching people explode.”
She laughed and sat back in her chair, looking at him. “You’re fun.”
His wink was downright illegal. “I like you too. Let’s get the check. I’ll bet you’re jet lagged.”
“I’ve lost all sense of time and space,” she said, giggling. “I’m a little tipsy.”
He leaned in and whispered, “I noticed, but don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”
After paying the bill, they made their way to his private car. In the back seat, he turned to her. “Sure you don’t want to stay at my house? I have a room all ready for you, and I make a fabulous truffle omelet.”
She was tempted. Too tempted. “Let’s stick with the plan,” she said, and then looked out the window to give herself time to breathe.
At the hotel, he insisted on walking her in. “Wait! I forgot my bag.”
She made a move to turn back to the car, but he stopped her. “Giacomo has everything,” he said. “Don’t worry. And I already had him check you in while we were at dinner.”
“What if I’d decided to stay with you?” she asked, only to immediately regret it.
His dimple winked at her, and he shrugged. “No biggie. I’m all about rearranging things last minute.”
She wondered how many times he did just that. Probably a lot, given how handsome and charming he was. She wasn’t immune to those qualities in a man, but it was something else about J.T. that r
eally pushed her over the edge. He was funny. And he listened.
Give her a lace fan to cool herself down.
They grew silent as they went up the elevator to her room. She realized it was the penthouse when the light on the switchboard illuminated P. “You’re kidding.”
“You deserve the best,” he said, leading the way down the marble hallway dotted with giant gold-bordered mirrors.
“This is really lovely, but…”
She broke off as he opened the door. All of Rome seemed to be lit before her. She was conscious of her gasp. “It’s beautiful. The windows…”
The penthouse seemed to be made of glass. A fire was lit in the green marble fireplace, and discreet lighting gave it a warm glow.
“I may never leave.” She wandered, as if in a trance, to the wall of windows.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he said, coming up to stand beside her. “Every time I come back from a trip, it’s like her arms are always open to welcome me.”
She noted Rome’s famous sites, at once lit and in shadow. “I don’t know how you could ever leave. It was hard for me when I studied here for that one summer in college.”
He made a humming noise. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could leave, but things change. I’ve been feeling I need to find a new home if I’m going to find what I’m looking for in life.”
Turning to him, she regarded him in the half-light. “What’s that?”
His mouth curved up, and he tapped her on the nose. “That’s a conversation for another time. I’ll…” His eyes dipped to her mouth, but instead of spanning the distance between them, he took a step back. “I’ll see you in the morning, Caroline. Just call me when you’re up and about. Tomorrow, we start on the paintings.”
She realized her chest was tight. There was no trace of humor on his face now. Instead he was radiating a magnetic intensity.
He wanted her, she realized.
A quiver started at her feet and surged upward.
She wanted him too.
“You can feel it too, can’t you?” he asked, stepping close again. “I wondered. I’ve been trying to keep things on a platonic level, but I’ve wanted you from the moment I walked into the gallery and saw you looking at that painting. Before I even saw your face. The way your brown hair trailed down your back. It was like an oil painter had used a harder brush stroke to capture your curls. Then there was your waist, the way it dipped into your hips. I was…caught.”
She bit her lip, completely entranced.
“You aren’t the girl I remember throwing mud at.”
“You aren’t the boy I remember either.”
He tucked his hands into his pants pockets and rocked on his heels. “Maybe for the moment we should keep our focus on the art until…you’ve seen all the paintings.”
It wasn’t difficult to know what he meant. But God, seeing him standing there like he was, his body a testimony to strength and beauty, smelling like citrus and musk, she wanted to throw all caution to the wind and enjoy him. Every last inch of him.
“This museum in Dare Valley is…the most important thing I’m doing right now,” he continued. “I’ve made some big changes recently to make it so.”
She thought he was referring to something more than resigning from his job, but didn’t feel she had the right to ask.
“Plus, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His green eyes locked on her. “I asked you to come here in good faith. Your good opinion means a lot to me.”
His good opinion was equally important to her, she realized. She remembered what he’d said about people in art circles. The last thing she wanted was to devolve into a cliché. Maybe…once they’d looked at the paintings, they could have another conversation. She broke out into a sweat imagining it.
“I believe that’s wise,” she said, fisting her hands by her sides. “The art should be our focus. Especially as important it is to you, your family, and Dare Valley.” She felt a surge of pride and loyalty when she said the name of her hometown. This museum was important. And Uncle Arthur had brought her in to help. She wasn’t going to spoil that.
J.T. kicked at the marble floor as if testing its polish. “I’m glad you agree. Good night then, Caroline.”
A quick smile flashed across his mouth, and then he walked out before she could wish him the same.
Pressing her hand to her wildly beating heart, she realized this trip had already changed her.
And she hadn’t even seen the paintings yet.
Chapter 24
Evan arrived at the cabin early on the frosty Friday morning after he walked in on Chase’s date with Moira. Not that Chase was surprised.
“Good morning,” Evan said cheerfully, picking up Barney, who’d run over to greet him, with his free hand. “I brought you some of Margie’s cinnamon rolls. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Great,” he said. “I’m planning on smoking some elk today. Chef T sent some over this morning.”
Clearly everyone had gotten up early. Including Moira, who’d texted him for twenty minutes before she’d headed into work. Before his injury, Chase had rarely texted. Now he was starting to see what people liked so much about it. There was an art to choosing one’s words when flirting with a woman in a string of messages.
Moira was good at it. Chase had more than caught on.
After some playful kissing and creative touching last night, he was a little hot and bothered. But he still thought she deserved a man who wasn’t encumbered by plaster. Now that the time limit was off, there was no reason they couldn’t wait a little longer to make love. As a goal, there was nothing better. He planned to use it as a motivating factor to get through more rounds of needle therapy. He was still trying to decide what to do about Ally. Bonnie and Andy clearly thought she could help him, but she’d made him feel so raw. He wasn’t sure he could go through that again.
“Where’s Bonnie?” Evan asked, looking around and whistling.
“She’s calling a few of my healing practitioners to set up more appointments,” he told Evan, who clearly had something on his mind. “In the kitchen.”
“That’s great,” Evan said. “I’ve been reading up on a few other things you might try. There’s a chance I can modify a Tens device.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation,” Evan explained. “It’s a type of therapy that uses low-voltage electrical currents. It helps with firing up muscles that have atrophied. But it also works with the brain—”
“You want to rig me up to some device that shocks me?” he asked. “No way. The needles sound safer. Let’s appreciate that a moment. When did my life become so messed up that needles became my best option?”
“It’s not—”
“No, Evan,” he said, wheeling forward in his scooter. “Now, why are you here?”
His friend lowered the kitten to the ground, and Barney raced across the floor and bounded into Chase’s lap.
“You’re dating Moira,” Evan said, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “I know it’s none of my business, but you helped with Margie.”
“Under duress,” he reminded his friend. “She called me and pretty much begged me to get in touch with you.”
“I was a heel,” Evan said, wincing. “But everything worked out, partly because of your help. Like I tried to say the other night when she was here, I’m totally cool with you and Moira being together. Not that I need to be. But she’s great, right? I mean, I’m not into her, but I can see why you would be. She’s super smart, a fabulous businesswoman, and she’s pretty. Do you need me to buy you condoms or anything?”
Chase wasn’t often shocked, but that segue took him aback and then some. “What?”
Evan hunched his shoulders in the perfect imitation of a cringe. “It’s not like I wanted to ask, but here you are, house-bound. It’s not like you can go out and buy them yourself. I didn’t know if you kept any in your wallet, but you can’t s
tore too many there—”
“Evan please stop speaking,” Chase said.
“I’m only trying to help, although I’d give you points for having sex in your current condition. Did you ask Andy if you were healthy enough for sexual activity?”
Evan sounded like one of those ED ads. Chase was going to kill him. “He’s her brother,” he snarled, “and no, I didn’t. I know my body. And that’s the last I’m going to say on this topic.”
“Whew!” Evan wiped his forehead. “Good, because I had trouble falling asleep thinking about this talk. But I had to be a friend. I needed you to know you could count on me like that.”
“And I never want to,” Chase said. “Ever again.”
Evan started to laugh. “I mean you know I love you… That’s a lot of love.”
Chase couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh too. “More than I can handle.”
“Moira probably has all the love you can handle and more.”
That comment received his best glower.
“What I mean is,” Evan said, holding up his hand like a peace offering, “should you and Moira fall in love and such, maybe you’ll finally consider what I’ve been wanting all along.”
Chase didn’t like the way Evan was staring at him. He had on his puppy expression.
“What is that?”
“Don’t get mad, but I’ve been hoping you might move here for real.” Evan ducked his head. “Permanently. I mean…now that I know what family means because of Margie, I want you to be here. Shit, you know you’re my family, right?”
Chase felt his throat close.
Evan came closer to his scooter. “Now that you’re finally more open to talking about what happened when you were a kid, I…I want you to have a sense of home again. This is a great town with some great people, Chase. Everyone has opened their arms to me. I know they’d open their arms to you. Even without Moira.”
Good God. Had Evan really convinced himself it was a possibility?
“I mean, how could they not include you?” Evan asked, smiling crookedly. “You’re the best man I know.”
