Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2

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Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2 Page 10

by The Wild Rose Press Authors


  He turned his hand over and gripped hers. “You’re the one I want to be with now, and that’s all that matters.” It wasn’t just a line. He meant every word. The knowledge shook him a little.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Taking a breath, he scooted closer until their knees bumped. “Not a thing.” He nodded toward the stage. “Looks like we’re starting karaoke night off with a sure winner.”

  A pretty girl with long, blonde hair and doe eyes tapped the microphone. Her smile lit up the room. “I’ll get the ball rolling, folks, but then I expect you all to do your part. How about a little Patsy Cline.”

  “That’s Keira Rankin, Gus’s daughter,” Chase said as she crooned the opening lines of Walkin’ after Midnight in a smooth, sexy voice.

  “She’s good. Gorgeous, too.”

  “Yeah, she is.” He saw the question in Honey’s eyes and gave her knee a nudge. “No, I never dated her. Want to dance?”

  At her nod, he pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. She smelled like the sweet peas that ran up the trellis under his bedroom window. Burying his nose in the fall of curls, he closed his eyes and breathed in the fragrance. After a moment, his other senses kicked in. The soft swell of her breasts pressing against his chest and the curve of her waist beneath his hand ramped up his heartbeat. He heard and felt her swallow. When he touched his lips to the side of her neck, her breath hitched to a stop, then expelled in a whoosh. He wasn’t the only one so turned on it hurt.

  “Three brunettes, a blonde, and a redhead walk into a bar.”

  He opened his eyes and smiled down at her. “Dare I hope that’s the opening line to a dirty joke?”

  “More like girls’ night out.” She nodded toward the door. “I recognize Missy and Nora from Jenna’s wedding, and the other brunette looks familiar. I’ve seen her in town with a little girl.”

  Spinning with her in his arms, he watched the quintet at the doorway glance around the room. It only took a moment for Nora to spot him. She gave Missy a nudge and said something. Five pairs of eyes turned in their direction.

  “Good God, I should have taken you to New Mexico. Maybe Arizona. Who knew the Lonesome Steer would be such a hot spot. If my sister wasn’t on her honeymoon, she’d undoubtedly be with them. Oh Lord, they’re headed this way.”

  Honey leaned back in his arms, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You going to introduce me?”

  “I suppose so.”

  Keira finished her song, and he nudged Honor toward the table they’d vacated earlier. With his back up against a support beam, he looked for the humor in the situation and came up empty. The women followed, stopping directly in front of them.

  “Evening, ladies. Missy, Nora, you know Honor.” He nodded toward the third brunette. “Ryn owns the beauty salon in town, and Amy Jo works with Jenna at the day care center.” He smiled at the tall redhead, then turned to the dimpled blonde. “This is Nina. She—”

  “Doesn’t do much of anything except shop.” The woman stuck out her hand and giggled. “Nice to meet you, Honor.”

  “Likewise.”

  Missy drew in a breath and turned on the high heel of her strappy dress shoe. “We were just on our way to the bar.”

  “Don’t let us keep you,” Chase drawled. “Enjoy your evening.”

  The blonde giggled again and laid a hand sporting a huge, marquise cut diamond on his arm, giving it a pat. “You bet we will.”

  “She has to be smarter than she looks,” Honor whispered after they walked away.

  “Older, too. We graduated high school together. She scored higher than me on the SATs.”

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, but couldn’t contain the grin. “That might not be something you want to advertise.”

  Chase sat and took a long pull on his beer. “Maybe not. Do you want to leave?”

  “Why would I want to do that? Just because a bunch of your ex-girlfriends are here—”

  “Only three of them.”

  She ignored his interruption and drained her glass. “I’m drinking vodka for courage. We’re going to sing.”

  “We are?” He glanced to the stage where a cowboy wearing a battered hat and alligator boots stood at the front of the crowd, murdering a Willy Nelson tune. “Guess I couldn’t sound worse than he does.”

  When the last tortured notes ended, Honor pulled him up on stage and flipped through the list. “We need a duet—Leather and Lace. Oh God, I love that song. Do you know it?”

  The way she was clutching his arm and smiling into his eyes, he would have sung just about anything. “I think I can manage.”

  Her voice was pure and beautiful. Listening to her croon the melody put a lump in his throat, and he swallowed against it. He choked out lyrics that asked a question. Could she love a man like him? He wasn’t sure of the answer, and God help him, he didn’t think sleeping with Honor was going to be enough. He wanted more.

  She sang of love and need, giving and taking. Her voice trailed off to hoots and cheers and stomping feet, but her gaze never left his. What he saw in her eyes left him feeling gut punched.

  He dragged in a breath and led her from the stage. “That was something.”

  “Yes it was.”

  Making conversation was an effort. His insides churned; confusion, desire, and a longing so deep he was afraid to put a name to it all mixed together.

  “Want another drink?”

  “I’d rather dance.”

  Holding her close while Nora Tyler sang a Faith Hill song, the tension flowed out of him. They didn’t talk, just swayed, moving in a slow circle.

  When the song ended, he tilted her chin and kissed her, his lips lingering. “You ready to leave yet?”

  A trio of drunken good ole boys took the stage and belted out Heartbreak Express, and she nodded. “I’ll use the ladies’ room first and be right back.”

  Leaning against the rough paneled wall while he waited, Chase idly watched the dancers. Missy two-stepped in the arms of an older man he didn’t recognize, but her focus was on Brady Wilson skirting the tables. The big man stopped in front of him.

  Chase tipped back his hat and looked up. “Hey, Brady. Didn’t see you earlier.”

  “Bart and I came in while you were singing. Nearly made me cry, it was so touching.”

  He grinned. “Up yours.”

  “That Honor, she’s hot. Nearly as pretty as Missy.”

  “I suppose that’s a matter of opinion.”

  The other man shifted, crossed his arms over his chest, then uncrossed them and jammed his hands into his pockets.

  “Something bothering you, Brady?”

  “Missy and I had a fight—over you.”

  Chase straightened. “Damn. Why would you do something that stupid?”

  A sigh shook his chest. “You two really are finished? I didn’t believe it, and she said a few things...” His voice trailed off. He shrugged and swallowed. “But when I saw the way you looked at Honor—”

  “Go talk to Missy. You both are obviously miserable.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  He walked away, and Chase shook his head. The idiot didn’t recognize a good thing until he’d lost it.

  Honor walked out of the ladies’ room, and he forgot all about Brady and his problems. Hurrying forward, he took her arm and tucked her close to his side.

  “Let’s go home.”

  ****

  She’d fallen completely and hopelessly in love. The way Chase looked at her like there was no one else in the room, the way he held her like he’d never let her go… There was no turning back and no denying it. Her emotions skittered between joy and despair, leaving Honor exhausted as they crossed the parking area. She rubbed the back of her neck, wondering what she should do.

  Chase didn’t appear to have any of her misgivings. The smile on his face and glint in his eye made it clear he had only one thing on his mind.

  Before she could open the pickup door, he backed her against it and kissed her u
ntil her knees gave way.

  His breath stirred the hair at her temples as he caught her around the waist. “Easy there,” he said, propping her up. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.”

  “You didn’t show a whole lot of restraint while we were dancing.”

  “Didn’t I?” He ran the tip of his finger over the swell of her breast and gave her a heavy-eyed look. “Believe me, I was restrained.”

  She swallowed. “Uh, we’re in a parking lot.”

  “Not for long.” Bending, he planted a quick kiss on her lips and opened the door. “Hop in, and I’ll have us somewhere more private in no time.”

  She climbed up onto the seat and watched him run around the front of the truck. He slammed his door, started the engine, and pulled out of the lot with a spurt of gravel. The headlight beams speared through the darkness as they sped down the highway.

  “What’re you going to tell the cop when he busts you for driving ninety?”

  He reached over and dropped a warm palm on her thigh. “One look at you, and I won’t need to explain.”

  Her muscle twitched beneath his hand, feeling the imprint through the material of her jeans. Heat spread and settled between her legs.

  Breathing through her nose, she tried to slow her racing pulse. “I haven’t made up my mind if we’re going further than a goodnight kiss, so you may as well slow down.”

  The sudden deceleration jerked her against the seatbelt. He turned toward her, a look of utter horror on his face. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Chase, the road!”

  He turned the wheel before they drove off the pavement, then removed his hand from her leg. “Look, I’m not trying to pressure you. I just thought—” He broke off and let out a long sigh. “I guess I thought you wanted to be together as much as I do.” His lips curved a fraction. “Okay, maybe not that much. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

  Her voice was low. “Oh, I think I do.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  She stared at him in the glow of the dashboard light, noting the chiseled profile and hard jaw. The man was beyond handsome, but it was his personality that captured her heart. She loved the carefree, laughing, devil-may-care man inside even more than the sexy exterior. Of course, those same traits would leave her wounded and bitter when fear of commitment started eating at him. Wounded she could handle. Bitter was something else.

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  His hands clenched around the steering wheel, but his tone was hesitant. “I suppose so.”

  “That’s a lukewarm response if ever I heard one.” She shifted in the seat and leaned toward him. “Is it always just physical for you? Have you ever tried engaging your emotions, your heart?”

  “Hell, Honor, I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at talking about that sort of stuff. I feel plenty. You twist me up like a pretzel.” Tossing his hat in the backseat, he ran a hand through his hair. “You make me question everything I’ve ever wanted. When I look at you, it seems like there should be more.”

  Tears burned behind her eyes at his admission. “Honestly? You’re not just saying that to get me into bed.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m saying.”

  “I suppose it’s a start.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She gave him a weak smile, feeling her defenses crumble. “It may get you to second base. Possibly third.”

  “Hot damn! That definitely is a start.”

  Chapter Nine

  Not again. Honor dropped onto the lowest step of the stairs and hugged her arms around her middle. From her vantage point, only the tops of the block letters scrawled across her door were visible. She couldn’t bear to see what had been left on the mat.

  “God damned mother—” Chase bit off the expletive and crouched next to her, taking her cold hands in his. “I’ll take care of it. Do you want to wait in the café?”

  She shook her head. Ice burned like fire in her chest, freezing her from the inside out. “See how bad it is.”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, gave her hands a squeeze, and ran up the stairs. Silence pounded her ears. She would shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t say something.

  “Tell me.” Her voice was high and thin, a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

  “Nothing dead.”

  The breath left her, relief flowing over her in waves. “Thank God.” Standing, she grasped the railing and climbed the stairs. Chase stood with his back to her, unmoving. “What does it say?”

  “Enough.”

  She moved up next to him and stared.

  IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU.

  The words were written in red marker. “I don’t get it—oh.” Her gaze latched onto the object hanging from the doorknob. A brown-haired doll wearing shorts and a tank top dangled from a green neck tie. A crimson slash circled its neck.

  Honor’s knees quivered. “That’s not funny.”

  Chase wrapped his arm around her. “No, it’s not.”

  “Should we call the sheriff?”

  He stared at the doll, reached out and touched the green necktie. “We could, but I think I know who’s responsible.” His voice was hard and flat. “The little shit deserves to have the beejesus scared out of him, but...”

  “But what?” Anger stiffened her backbone. Why would he hesitate to turn in the perpetrator?

  “Let’s leave everything untouched, just in case I’m wrong. Tomorrow I’ll talk to—the person, and you can decide what you want to do.”

  She pulled away from him. “Aren’t you going to tell me who it is?”

  “I’d rather make sure I’m not jumping to conclusions.”

  Hurt rose in her throat, nearly choking her. “Obviously this person means something to you.”

  She took a breath, picturing Missy creeping up the stairs with a doll clutched in her fist, grim determination in her eyes. Or maybe it was the blonde from the bar. Chase said she had a brain in her head, but it seemed like a few of her screws needed tightening. Next time—

  Chase touched her clenched fist. “Honey, are you okay?”

  Her hand jerked. “Whatever. Do it your way.”

  He turned to face her, his grim expression easing. “I appreciate that. At least I’m certain you aren’t in any danger. If I thought for a minute you were, I’d call the cops before you could blink.”

  “Sure.” She forced a smile. “But I can’t get in without touching the doorknob. I watch those crime shows. If you’re wrong—”

  “Give me the key.” Taking it, he unlocked the door. This is Redemption, not Atlanta. And this isn’t exactly the crime of the century.”

  Looking at the dangling doll, her stomach rolled. Someone Chase cared about hated her. The queasiness increased, and she swallowed hard. He followed her inside and shut the door. Stepping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “It’s late.”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck. “You’re right. We should go to bed.”

  Ignoring the shivering sensation his nipping kisses sent down her spine, she stepped out of his arms. “I should go to bed. You should go home.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” She wasn’t angry. Disappointed, hurt, discouraged. She couldn’t imagine who was responsible for the threats. Maybe it wasn’t one of his ex-girlfriends who’d hung the doll; she couldn’t picture Missy or the blonde with the gaudy engagement ring scooping up road kill to leave on her porch. “I’m just tired.”

  He was quiet for a long minute. “We can sleep, nothing more.” Rubbing his hand around the back of his neck, he dropped onto the daybed. “Look, I’m ninety-five percent sure I know who did it, but there’s still a chance—” His lips firmed. “I won’t leave you here alone.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Fine. I’m going to take a shower. You can have a snack, watch TV, whatever.” Hurrying across the room before he could argue,
she shut the door with a solid thump.

  The hot sting of the shower took away some of the chill and eased the tension in her shoulders. And it cleared her head. She’d fallen for a man as mercurial as a butterfly. She loved him without question, but she couldn’t let him destroy the fragile sense of self-worth she’d regained since arriving in Redemption.

  After towel drying her hair, she rubbed in moisturizer and slipped on a pair of short cotton pajamas. Taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom. The dim light over the stove revealed a pile of clothes and a pair of boots in a heap on the carpet and a long lump topped by broad, bare shoulders in her bed.

  “Chase.”

  “We’re going to sleep, but I’d rather not do it on the floor.” His voice was muffled by her pillow.

  Biting her lip, she turned off the light, crossed the room, and slid in beside him. He still wore his boxers. If he hadn’t—

  She shut down that thought before it could take hold.

  Making herself small in the narrow confines of the single bed was impossible, but she tried. Turning, he drew her up against his chest, spoon fashion. The hard prod against her hip sent heat shooting through her.

  She fought down a wave of desire. “Chase.”

  “Yes, I’ve got a boner that won’t quit, but I’m not going to do anything about it.” His breath stirred the damp hair at her neck. “Just relax and go to sleep, and for God’s sake quit squirming.”

  Honor lay still, her heart pounding in her chest. His hand stroked her hair, a gentle caress that lulled her into near slumber. Finally it slowed.

  “Chase,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The hand stilled, then continued to stroke. “No need to be, darlin’, no need at all.”

  ****

  Chase woke the same way he’s gone to sleep, with a raging hard on. Thinking about the commercials that warned against four hour erections, he grimaced. Apparently one could survive without consulting a physician.

  Honor had snuck out of the apartment while he slept. The damned woman moved as quietly as a cat in the morning. With a grunt, he rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. The cold spray took care of the boner, but didn’t improve his disposition.

 

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