“Of course I am.” His hooded gaze paired handsomely with his lopsided smile. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. But the niggle in her chest made the blissful moment shortlived. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
His fingers caressed her lower back. “No, you don’t owe me anything.”
His warm words thawed her frozen fear. She lifted her head. The soft grays in his eyes were like her favorite wool blanket—comfortable and cozy. “I told you I was engaged, and my fiancé ended the relationship in a horrifying way.”
He nodded and adjusted his grip to hold her closer.
“My fiancé was Travis Leeman.”
His brows shot north, but he then schooled his surprise. “The guy that created Space Station?”
“Not all of it. Space Station was originally my idea. But you would never know, because he never gave me credit. I coded it. But he funded the entire thing and promoted it. And he was the mastermind behind our videos.” Devyn shuddered. “Remember when we first met, you said I looked familiar?”
His gaze was intense, as if he saw something in her, deeper than those superficial videos. “The girl on those posts is different than the one I’m dancing with.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She allowed a small smile. “Travis wanted me to act and look sexy. He picked my outfits.” Almost all skin-tight and revealing. “Preferred me to wear my makeup thick and spider legs on my eyes.”
His mouth quirked a smile. “Spider legs?”
“Fake lashes.” Not that she was against false lashes in general, but the idea that Travis wouldn’t let her go out in public without them made her despise them. Now she only wore a bit of eye makeup and lip gloss. “He even made me talk an octave lower.”
Chase’s eyes flashed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Sultry and hot. That’s what he required, and that’s what I gave him.” Day after day. Video after video. “I thought at first it was no big deal. We were trying to launch our baby, wanting it to be a success. But then Travis started getting more controlling. All those videos were supposed to appear like us in real life, but he scripted it all.”
His voice dropped with his gaze. “I’ve only seen one of your videos.”
“The breakup one?”
He nodded and lifted his chin, something unreadable in his eyes. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”
“Nothing like dumping your girl in front of millions of viewers.” Devyn should have realized something was majorly wrong that day. He’d never recorded anything unscripted. She’d thought maybe he was finally being spontaneous, transparent. But no. She was just another gimmick to get even more clicks, more subscribers. “Now you see why I can’t stand Slate.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “The jerk used a Slate poem to end things with you.”
She stilled. “Not just to end it, but to slam me. He told the world I was the one who changed him. As if I took advantage of him, when it was the other way around.” The words of that poem had haunted her.
I’m letting you go because our souls never reflected each other. Every moment spent with you cost me more and more of myself until I didn’t recognize my own image. So it’s better for you to be the stranger than to never know my own heart again.
But at that devastating moment, Devyn had been too shocked to defend herself. She’d just stood there like an idiot, tears streaming down her face. It had taken all that was in her to scurry out the door, as the cameraman chased her to her car.
“The video went crazy viral. Travis invented a terrible hashtag—DitchingDevyn.”
Chase’s jaw tightened. His eyes flickered with harnessed anger, and Devyn felt oddly comforted. “He had no right.” Though his features were rigid, he held her a little tighter, sending a wave of comfort stretching through her. “He was never worthy of you.”
The song ended. Chase led her by the hand back to the table. Only this time he claimed the chair directly beside hers, rather than opposite, as if placing himself as a protector between her and the rest of the world.
“I should’ve seen it coming.” Her gaze fell to their locked hands. Her fingers fit so perfectly within his. “Travis charmed his way to get everything in life, me included. But then he turned his focus on the camera. He noticed viewers liked grand gestures. Everything was a publicity stunt to gain more subscribers—like giving me a Tesla, buying me a penthouse apartment. All for show. Of course, the biggest stunt was breaking up with me. It’s the most watched video.” She raised her lashes and hazarded a glance at Chase. “I guess people love drama.”
“Not all people.” His fingers gently squeezed hers.
“After that I shut down all my social media accounts and basically logged out of life for a time.”
“Until you had your river dream.”
Her gaze clung to his. “Yes.”
With his other hand, he pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and his fingertips traced the curve of her jaw. “I’m glad you were still able to dream after the nightmare you had.”
Devyn’s breath rippled in her chest at his touch. “I had to discover what real love was. What I had with Travis wasn’t it. He never did tell me he loved me. He’d say he wanted me. Needed me, even. But that’s not the same.”
“It’s selfishness.” Chase’s face turned thoughtful. “But people are often confused where love is concerned. Many don’t know what it is.”
“Funny thing is, I’ve been taught what love is all my life, but never realized it until this happened to me.”
His brow creased and she smiled.
“Love is bold.”
The inquisitive bend to his brow encouraged her to continue. “It doesn’t cower, but expresses itself. Think of Jesus. What He did on the cross was bold. He gave His life without any guarantee that anyone would love Him back. It was daring and beautiful.” What was that verse in Romans? Something about while people were still sinners, Christ had died for them.
Her date squirmed. And no wonder. She’d just preached a sermon, but she wouldn’t apologize. She’d told him before about her faith, and if they were going to continue with—whatever this was between them—he needed to know that she and Jesus were a package deal.
She’d made the mistake of abandoning her relationship with God in pursuit of Travis. She would never make that error in judgment again.
Chapter 17
Devyn and Chase walked hand-in-hand under the cityscape lights toward her apartment, the scene seeming straight out of a nineties romcom.
“Thank you for my song.” Devyn broke the comfortable stretch of silence.
The glimmer in Chase’s eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes, really wasn’t fair for a girl who had a weak immunity to charm. “Which one?”
She laughed, catching his meaning. The chicken dance had been hysterical and special in its own right, but she’d referred to what happened after their intimate conversation about her breakup. “I’ve never had someone dedicate a song to me.” There was a designated number for passengers to text a request. The baldheaded disk jockey had announced, “A certain someone here dedicates this next one to his Dream Girl.” Chase had sent her a mischievous smile and on cue, the song “River of Dreams” thrummed throughout the ballroom.
Chase shrugged as if it were no big deal, but the warmth in his expression said otherwise.
He’d taken her in his arms, but this time, he’d gone all 1940s style by twirling her, spinning her out then curling her back to him. Of course, she’d spoiled his smoothness by stumbling into him, then stepping on his foot. But her clumsiness hadn’t broken the sweetness of the moment. Or the fun of it. They’d smiled at each other through the dance, and in true exaggerated fashion, he dipped her at the end.
Her fingers tingled at the thought of his toned muscles and harnessed strength.
They paused at the crosswalk, and Devyn pushed the Walk button. “I haven’t laughed that much in a long time.”
<
br /> “I liked hearing it.”
“You did?” Why his confession caught her off guard, she didn’t know. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice when she was so used to his playful tone. Or it could be the heady feeling from just being in his presence. Or the simple fact that her laugh was nothing spectacular—not the sexy throaty sound Travis had demanded from her, or even gracefully melodic like some other women. Just a plain, unremarkable laugh.
“Yes.” He leaned closer, his breath stirring wisps of hair at her temple. “There’s a lot of things I like about you.”
Her heart went full WWE mode against the cage of her ribs. “I can say the same,” was all she could breathe out. She angled toward him, matching his stance.
It could be illusions of nightfall, but the grays of his eyes burned darker. The smolder lingering beneath his charcoal lashes was enough to draw her on her toes, closer. The light changed, signaling them to walk, breaking their moment. Chase squeezed her hand, and they crossed the street. Disappointment feathered across her shoulders and settled in with surprising weight. Had she really wanted Chase to kiss her?
It wasn’t quite ten o’clock, the city still abuzz. With the Cardinal’s game just ending, traffic clogged the streets and people made their way to the parking garages.
Devyn adjusted her purse on her shoulder and made sure it was zipped as a precaution. “I just live over—” She stumbled to a halt.
Cameramen. Reporters.
Dozens of them hovered outside her building, like circling vultures ready to swoop on their prey. Her bones locked, unmoving. “No. Please, no.”
Chase’s hand settled on the small of her back. “Has this happened before?”
She blinked, hoping this was some strange hallucination from her sugar overdose. “They’ve never come to my place. Not even after Travis broke up with me. They only hounded him.” Which had been fine by her. Travis adored the spotlight.
Chase’s chest broadened as if he were bracing to take the weight of the situation solely upon his squared shoulders. “Do you think those teens posted on Space Station?”
“Possibly.” Some people loved snatching a few minutes of fame. “I can’t go in there.” She retreated a step. Then another.
“You don’t have to.” The calming lilt of his voice drew her gaze from the media hornets to his reassuring eyes. “But you have no reason to fear them. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
He was right. Just like Mitch always said. She had no reason to flee. If she ran now, who was to say they wouldn’t keep badgering her?
But could she face them?
She inhaled deep, and something stirred within her. It was words. Words she’d recited as a kid swept to the forefront of her mind. Perfect love drives out fear. And that love was embedded in her soul. “Love is bold.” She murmured the phrase she’d said to Chase only a few hours ago. With God, she could face hard things.
“I won’t leave your side.” Chase strengthened his grip, still gentle but sure.
“Let’s do this.” Her wobbly ankles protested, but she forced her legs into motion. Each step forward a declaration against the fear that had controlled her for the past year.
No more hiding.
A short man with a terrible goatee saw her first. “Devyn Asbury, is it true you’re returning to Space Station?”
She knew better than to acknowledge their probing questions. No matter what she said, her words would get twisted. Flashes from cameras shuttered, reducing her vision. She was sure Chase was blinded as well. Yet their determined paces didn’t hitch.
“Who’s this man you’re with?” Another voice—feminine this time—hollered from the side. “Does this mean the rumors about you and Travis getting back together are false?”
The crazy impulse to kiss Chase and send a clear message sluiced through her, but she wouldn’t dare take advantage of Chase that way. She’d been on that end. Any intimacy between them—if there was to be—was not for the cameras. She’d learned that lesson too.Their relationship would not be for public consumption.
More questions sailed her direction, which she ignored. She and Chase reached the steps. As if realizing they were getting nowhere with Devyn, the scavengers changed strategies and fired verbal darts at Chase. A muscle leapt in his tight jaw as he yanked the front door open.
Hans, the security guard, ushered them inside with a growl and glower directed at the disappointed horde.
“I’m sorry, Hans.” Devyn sounded as winded as she felt. “I had no idea.”
He gave a stern nod, his watchful gaze never leaving the entrance.
Devyn stole a glance at Chase, who seemed completely unfazed by the whole incident. She, on the other hand… It would probably take several vintage films to return her blood pressure to non-threatening levels. She shifted her attention to the fiftysomething security guard. “I hope this is the first and last time of craziness.”
Hans grunted. “I don’t think any of those leeches got inside, but I was away for a bit helping another resident. Do you want me to see you to your place?”
“I’ll do it,” Chase offered. “That way you won’t have to leave your post.” He gestured to the throng. Several of them had left, but there was still a good ten to fifteen people loitering on the steps.
Hans looked to Devyn for the okay. She gave him a smile, shaky at best.
She and Chase entered the elevators, and Devyn sighed against the wall. “That was unexpected.”
Chase remained close as if one of the cameramen would rappel from the ceiling. But Devyn didn’t mind. His nearness was comforting. She stabbed the PH button.
“You weren’t joking about living in the penthouse,” Chase remarked.
“Nope.That’s why we met at Mom’s house instead of my place. I knew you’d have questions.”
“And here I thought it was because you couldn’t trust yourself around me.”
“Well, that too,” she teased back, grateful the moment had lightened. Her heart still hammered in her chest, but at least she wasn’t so rattled that she couldn’t joke around with Chase.
The elevator dinged open and her door came in view.
“Sorry for the lousy ending to our date.” Of all the crazy incidents that could have happened. “I’m thankful you pressed me to face them. It was …”
“Liberating?”
She smiled. “Yeah.” Oh, she could kiss him. But with her emotions all wacky, she wasn’t certain that would be the best choice. She leaned against her doorframe.
Chase’s gaze zeroed on her. “Is this the part where I tell you I had a good time? And ask you out again?”
Her heart lurched. “Only if you want to.”
He took a step closer and palmed the wall behind her.“I do. Very much.”
What was that about not kissing him? Because she’d completely forgot the reason, especially with him so kissably close. His head lowered, and she tipped her face toward his.
The doorknob clicked behind her. What in the world? She jolted and clung to Chase’s arm.
The hinges whispered. The door yawned open. A shock of blond hair rattled her vision before the rest came into focus.
Travis.
Chapter 18
Hattie
My eyelids cracked open. Whispers of dawn tiptoed across the cabin floor. Another day, but this one held significance. For I was now twenty-one years old.
Where most women would be celebrating the day of their birth in a parlor crammed with family and presents, I’d be coursing the river. Two excursions were scheduled back to back, leaving no time for dawdling.
I threw my legs over the bunk and jumped down like I’d done when I was ten. My toes twinged at the impact, clearly not in support of my youthful gesture. I reached into the narrow closet, skimming past Miss Wendall’s faded dresses and grabbing the last hanger on the wardrobe bar. My thumb brushed the chiffon fabric of my lilac frock with burgundy trim. The uncertainty I’d sparred with last evening returned with fresh boxing gloves and eage
r swings at my confidence. Perhaps I should wear one of my drab dresses. Though it was tradition for me to don my best frock on my birthday, I wasn’t certain Duffy would remember the importance of today. After the attack on the Louisville wharf ten days ago, he’d been more aloof than I’d ever seen him. He’d kept to his cabin, allowing Jack to bear most of the leadership duties.
With Duffy’s neglect came Jack’s attentiveness. He’d hardly left my side during freight checks, as if he feared another gun-toting villain would materialize any moment. During crew meals, he’d claim the seat beside mine, engaging me in conversation as if I were the only one in the room.
With a contented sigh, I snatched my prettiest frock from the hanger and made myself ready for the day. My normally rebellious hair decided to cooperate, allowing me to sweep the sides back and secure it with a matching ribbon. I caught sight of the shears in Miss Wendall’s sewing basket that sat atop the wooden two-drawer dresser we shared. By society’s standards the length of my hair—a little past my shoulders—labeled me out of style, but the last time I’d attempted to bob my honey-blond locks, it looked like I’d given the task to a toddler. Better to have a longer hairstyle than an uneven one.
With a shake of my head, I made my way toward Duffy’s stateroom. We always shared a special breakfast on my birthday, just me and him without the fuss of the crew. The recollection of Duffy’s recent behavior slowed my steps. Maybe Miss Wendall had seen to the preparations. Or maybe I was going to encounter my first disappointment of the day.
My knuckles rapped a tentative knock.
“Only birthday girls are allowed to enter.”
The air whooshed from my lungs at Duffy’s standard reply. His withdrawn mood hadn’t carried over to today. Thank You, God. My fingers curled over the knob, and with a relieved smile, I opened the door. “Good morning, Duffy.”
The aroma of blueberry hotcakes sent my stomach growling.
Duffy must have heard the rumblings, for he laughed. “Miss Wendall was up early making your favorite breakfast.”
“I must thank her later.” I pecked a kiss on his cheek and sat across from him, claiming the chair Jack had sat in the day I’d washed his wound. The day he’d told me I was unlike any other woman he’d known. My heart swelled at the memory.
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