Love and Chaos

by K. F. Breene

  She plopped onto the grass beside him. Rachel and Jenn leaned forward to smile over Peter at her.

  “The boys got beat by a girl!” Rachel clapped. “That’ll teach them to be so cocky.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a compliment for Cassie, or a put down.” Peter frowned at Rachel. “Hear the woman roar for Christsakes.”

  “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Jenn reached over Rachel to slap Peter’s arm. “She knows it was a compliment.”

  “So, you guys having fun?” Cassie watched as Jace reemerged from the house. He headed in the direction of the kids, at the far end of the grass playing with one of the whiffle balls.

  “Yes! Best time ever!” Rachel held her hand up to block the sun so she could watch Jace squat next to the children. “And it looks like we’ll have the evening off from the kids, so smooth sailing.”

  All three kids started squealing before sprinting away from Jace. He hopped up and ran after them, growling like a bear. He scooped up Lesley when she faltered on a tuft of grass, and continued running after the boys, yelling, “We’re going to get you!”

  Cassie picked at the grass. She thought about going over to that bench overlooking the valley, but the point was to put in face time with Peter, and he was having a great time right where he was. Dinner wasn’t for another few hours—hasty sandwiches had been consumed during the whiffle ball game—so that chore was finished, and they probably wouldn’t let her help with dinner prep, anyway, since she was considered a guest. She should chat with the three next to her, but they had boarded the buzzed train and weren’t making much sense. She could drink to catch up, but she wasn’t in the mood.

  So not many options then.

  She bit her lip and hugged her knees. She’d just have to wait it out. At least she could watch Jace’s muscles play as he chased the kids around the yard. That was something.

  She ignored the tightening of her body, asking her to get up and get closer to him. The throbbing of her body wasn’t as easy to disregard, but she’d manage. For Peter’s sake, she’d manage.

  At bedtime, after brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, Cassie found Peter tucked in the sheets. His eyes drooped but were still open. The light blared.

  “You want the light on for some reason?” Cassie asked in confusion. She let her hand hover over the switch.

  “I opened up with Jenn and Rachel more,” Peter blurted in a light slur. He’d kept his buzz through the afternoon and then turned it into drunk at dinner. “Let my bitch out a little. They just laughed harder. Didn’t even quirk an eyebrow.”

  Cassie smiled and crossed the room to stow her toiletries. “So you think you’ll go through with your announcement like you’d planned before the trip?”

  She could hear the famous Peter sigh. “They’re great, and so much fun, but they’re not the ones I’m worried about. My dad overheard me call Jenn doll at dinner and glowered. Not stared, but glowered, Cass.”

  Cass went back to the light with a quirked brow, got a nod, and switched it off. She crawled in beside Peter. “Maybe give him a bit more credit. He’s a smart guy—maybe if he knows the truth, he’ll come up with different expectations.”

  Peter huffed and lifted the sheet over half his face. “We don’t touch enough, either. Do you think they notice?”

  Cassie got a squirming in her gut. She’d thought of that, too. It was hard to remember to act like a couple when they were just friends. Sure, they touched and hugged and things normal friends did, but she didn’t kiss him. She didn’t stare longingly into his eyes. She didn’t crave a lingering touch or an overly affectionate embrace. No matter their level of friendship, faking real intimacy was hard. And she wasn’t great at acting.

  All things she really should’ve pointed out before agreeing to come along.

  Plus, there was the distraction of Jace. He was gorgeous and funny and awesome—it was hard to step away from him and pretend to love Peter. She had a gay man on one side and a taken man on the other. Her luck couldn’t get worse if she broke ten mirrors. “I’m trying, Peter, I just—“

  “It’s not your fault,” he interrupted quickly. “I forget, too. And then there’s…”

  Cassie waited for the rest of the sentence. When she didn’t get it, she angled her head toward him. The darkness covered the half of his face the blanket didn’t. “What?”

  “I don’t know, this just all sucks.” Peter rolled over away from her, snuggling into his pillow.

  Cassie rubbed his back. “I know, but we’ll make it through, okay? We’ll make it through this.”

  “Kay,” he said softly.

  Chapter 9

  After everyone had gone to bed, Jace sat on the back deck, watching the night. Crickets sang and night birds chirped as the breeze softly caressed his skin. He let images flit through his head of the most beautiful woman he could ever remember seeing—her smile, her throaty laugh, her startlingly vivid blue eyes. He’d sat next to her at dinner—he couldn’t help himself—and realized they had no end of things to chat about. Even stupid things, like favorite colors, became an interesting topic to hash out.

  He tried to keep it to a minimum, chatting with her only if other people were involved in the conversation, but after a while he lost track of everything but her. Each smile had his heart hammering. When she reached her hand out to lightly brush his forearm or shoulder, trying to share a moment or get his attention, his groin tightened and his chest constricted.

  Peter was one lucky bastard. But yet, they rarely touched. When they hugged, it looked like friends. When they talked, it was light and easy, but not overly engaging. Jace couldn’t really believe they loved each other. Not really. And it seemed mutual. They had respect in plenty, but love?

  Maybe they just weren’t sure yet. Maybe Peter was pushing the envelope to get her here in hopes of forcing love’s hand. But then, why wouldn’t he dote on her? Also, after a couple had sex, there was a certain level of intimacy in their touch, in their looks. He just didn’t see it.

  Jace leaned forward to get up. As he stood the sliding glass door opened slowly, a long, shapely leg the first to cross the threshold. Cassie’s body followed, wearing the pajamas she had on last night. Before he could help himself, Jace’s gaze settled on those perky, round breasts, her hard nipples straining against the fabric of her tank from the chill in the air. He yanked his stare upwards and sat back down to keep his hard-on from showing through his pajama bottoms.

  “Oh hey,” Cassie said quietly as she stood next to his chair in the darkness. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

  “Have a seat.” He motioned for her to sit in the deck chair next to his.

  She pushed the door closed with her elbow and took the offered seat, holding a book and a flashlight in her lap. The darkness masked her lovely features, but he could tell she was facing him.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked quietly.

  “No. Peter basically fell into bed and now he’s snoring. I figured I’d read for a while since I’m awake.”

  “Oh. Sorry, do you want me to head in?”

  “No, no. No, that’s okay. Hang out.”

  He felt a rush of warmth at the conviction in her voice that then turned to guilt. He leaned back anyway, though. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to part from her. And he didn’t know how to deal with that issue.

  “Did you have fun today?” he asked, trying to get the conversation flowing. Trying to make this situation friendly and not…what he felt at the moment. Trying to think about something, anything, other than her body so close. So supple.

  He cleared his throat and leaned forward again, dropping his elbows to his knees. A tent in his pants was not what he was going for at the moment.

  “Definitely, yes. I had a lot of fun. You?” Cassie leaned forward, too, engaged in their communication. Passing him the baton to keep it going.

  “Yes.”

  Nice work, cave man. Way to dazzle her with your linguistic skil
l.

  He didn’t know what else to say, though. At dinner they’d found so much to talk about, but now, in this setting, he had no words. Only feelings. Foreign, deep feelings for someone he shouldn’t be feeling anything for.

  A hush descended, blanketing them in comfort. They stared out at the night, sharing the silence. The longing, though, to touch her, to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, or to pull her onto his lap, chafed. Before long he couldn’t help squirming, itching for her.

  “I should go in.” He half stood, turned mostly toward the door. That hard-on would turn things awkward in a hurry.

  “Oh. Um…” She half stood, too. “What about ping pong? Do you want to play ping pong?”

  Yes. He did. Or just sit here longer. Or maybe just stare at her. Hell, he nearly wanted to go up to her room, grab Peter, and throw him out the window. That’s how crazy his thoughts had turned. The addiction to her had his heart racing and his gut clenching.

  It also had his penis straining against his pants, so that wasn’t good.

  “Maybe tomorrow. We’re going to be wine tasting, so I think I’ll hydrate and hit the hay.”

  “Another hour’s sleep isn’t going to keep the drunk at bay. I didn’t mean that to rhyme.”

  No, but seeing your breasts freely bouncing isn’t going to keep my erection at bay, either.

  “Here’s to great ideas.” He threw her a stupid wave, because he didn’t know what else to do, and opened the door.

  “What time do we leave tomorrow? And who’s going to watch the kids?”

  He paused halfway through the exit. “Leave at ten, I think. And my parents never go on the wine tasting trips.”

  Once again he turned to leave, and once again she stopped him with a question. “But who drives?”

  “A limo is coming. Weren’t you at dinner when we were talking about it?”

  She fidgeted with her book. “Oh yeah. I just forgot.”

  “Have you written anything for your work?”

  “I wrote some notes about the beauty of this place before dinner. I’ll probably go for a run early tomorrow to reflect a little more. I’m hoping the wine tasting goes well so I can write about that. Otherwise, I’ll need to go out to eat somewhere or something.”

  “Or you could write about renting a house in the countryside...”

  “Oh.” The outline of her head tilted right. “That’s a great backup idea. Nice work, Ace.”

  “Ace?” He chuckled as he leaned forward, bracing his elbow against the doorframe. He felt the tip of his erection poke the wood, sending pleasing sparks up through the base of his stomach. He shut his eyes, which called up the image of her in the glowing afternoon sunshine, her face and chest glistening with sweat, her smile triumphant from getting the last out in the whiffle ball game. He cut off a moan and slipped further into the house.

  “Okay, well, see you tomorrow.” Before she could ask another question, he was gone.

  He had to make sure to stay away from her tomorrow. That was the only way to beat this.

  Chapter 10

  Cassie checked her watch and glanced around the deserted road. Nine o’clock in the morning. She should be back by now. She’d gotten up at the crack of dawn, after dreaming of a dimple and shining muscles all night—when Peter wasn’t keeping her awake with the snoring—to head out for a run. She’d taken to the trails first, and when she worked toward a road, she took that for a while until she found another trail leading back into the countryside.

  While she usually had a great sense of direction, somehow she’d gotten turned around, thinking about the scenery around her—or other more impressive scenery burned into her brain. So now she stood at the side of a narrow road near a large oak tree, waiting almost patiently for her stupid phone to find her so it could map her back to the house.

  When she’d entered the house’s address before she left, she’d complimented herself on how prepared she was just in case. Not having a signal hadn’t entered into her thick head.

  She glanced up, waiting. Potholes and pock marks marred the cement. Loose bits of gravel had worked their way onto the roadway from the side, not cleared away by road crews or heavy traffic. The trees swayed gracefully in the light wind, the morning sun shining through the branches and touching her face with warmth.

  “So beautiful, but where the hell am I?”

  Talking to herself—the first sign of insanity.

  She clutched the plastic case of her phone with whitened fingers. Shaking it didn’t elicit any more results.

  “Damn it!” she swore, scaring a bird into taking flight from a tree across the road.

  She’d be late for wine tasting, and they’d wait for her. Of course they would. She was a guest. Not only that, but she knew Jace wouldn’t allow anyone to move until she was found. Judging by how he ordered the guys around, and how often he was obeyed—almost always—he was the leader of the kids in that family, and when he put his foot down, everyone listened.

  He’d probably beaten that respect into them as kids.

  Okay, how to get home.

  God damned phone and its God damned lack of signal!

  She turned around, pointing to north. Thanking the inheritance of her father’s sense of direction—although, the sun was a pretty great indicator, as well—she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember the direction of the house. And tried. And started to make stuff up.

  So that wasn’t good.

  Swearing, she thought back to the direction she’d been running. Mostly east…right? She’d done some backtracking when she hit a small stream, but then she wound around until she was mostly east again.

  The mostly would be the biggest issue, probably.

  She glanced at her phone, really hoping for the best. Then brought the thing closer, since a pixilated image of a map was just starting to populate. The GPS might not find her, but it did show fifty percent of a completely generic sense of where she was.

  That’ll do, Pig.

  She touched the face with her finger to mark the road in the center of the screen—that had to be the road she was on. A larger road connected off to the right. Beyond that, tan nothingness. The iPhone had better things to do than help her get back.

  No problem, she’d start with that road. Pointing at north, just to make sure it was still there, she headed off right, running at a fast jog. She hit that road in no time and brought up her phone, checking progress. The map had shown up, but the huge blue circle meant it was not ready to pinpoint her. Luckily, she could read a map just fine.

  Another right had her running in the non-existent bike lane on the side of the road alongside dirt and bushes. If a car came, her James Bond dive would result in plenty of scratches. It was a two-car road, though, albeit narrow, so she was on the right track. If everything weren’t just the same generic pretty around here, she’d probably have a better sense of landmarks.

  She brought her phone up as her breathing started to labor. Ten past nine and a smaller blue circle.

  C’mon phone, how much farther?

  Forcing her feet to eat pavement, pumping her arms, she pushed harder, trying to make out the jiggling picture on her phone as she held it in front of her face. Full picture with a smaller circle and red dot. The two were nearly touching. Probably a mile—hopefully less.

  Taking deep breaths as streams of sweat dribbled down her face and body, Cassie cleared her mind and focused on the air. On the road. On the burn in her legs and the swing of her body. She’d always been a runner—the midfielder on her soccer team who ran the most but never seemed to get tired. She was older now, but with a brother who liked to keep in shape, and an almost-sister-in-law who ran nearly every day, Cassie had plenty of encouragement to keep up her fitness. And thank god for that, because time was a’tickin’!

  Another glance told her that she was nearly there—soon she’d turn onto that tiny road that led to the house. Clearing her mind again, she ran. Felt her body and breathed. Thought about nothing. Put
herself in the zone.

  As she neared the turnoff, the roar of a Harley interrupted her thoughts. Dazed, she glanced around, like a war vet flinching from a bomber flying overhead. The bike slowed behind her. Jace sat in the seat, his huge arms and tattoos emphasizing that raw quality about him that gave her a thrill.

  He slowed to a stop as she bent over and panted. “Where’ve you been?” he demanded.

  “Stupid phone.” She held up the device with one hand as she braced on her knee with the other. “Got lost.”

  “You should’ve told me your path. I’ve been looking for you for half an hour.”

  She ignored the growl of his voice as she straightened up, mopping the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt. She just caught him looking at her stomach. “Checking out my flab?”

  His stern gaze stared her down.

  “If I knew my path, O ye harbinger of…something—I’m too tired to find a nice way of calling you a douche. I don’t know my way around here, remember? I don’t live here. I thought my phone could get me home, but I didn’t account for the spotty service.”

  “You’re in the country. What did you expect?”

  She dropped her hands and stared at him with a slack jaw. “Seriously? I just told you what I expected. You’re going to have to be a lot more intelligent about this sort of thing if you expect me to cower.”

  Those beautiful eyes in the firm mask of dominance held her like prey, making her spine tingle in flight reflex. That gorgeous face attached to the splendor of his body, sitting astride a loud and rough vehicle, had her sexy systems revving and her groin tightening. But the sweat drenched shirt, the panting from fatigue, and her, most likely, beet red and seriously ugly face dashed any sort of romantic fantasy she could conjure up.

  Instead of swooning, she just stared back, too tired for much else.

  “Get on,” he commanded.

  “I’m all sweaty…”

  “Get on.”