The breath catches in my throat as his fingers stroke lightly across my cheekbone one last time. I don’t even have time to pull in a proper breath before he’s gone — sliding off the bed and crossing out of the bedroom as though he hasn’t just set my world atilt on its axis with a few little words and a tiny caress of his fingers against my face.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stay
I hear the muffled sound of Chase on the phone in the other room. There’s urgency in his tone, and a resigned kind of anger, so I know it’s not good news. When I hear him say, “Fuck. Come up, we’ll talk here,” I know it’s more than not good.
It’s bad.
With a sigh, I force myself to scramble out of bed. It takes me a while, but eventually I locate the t-shirt Chase threw across the room and pull it over my head. I run my fingers through my hair before padding into the main room — just in time to see the elevator doors slide open as Knox swaggers into the apartment.
He freezes when he catches sight of me, half-clothed in Chase’s giant shirt, and I think his lips quirk up in the hint of a smile, but it’s hard to tell, what with his constant I’m-so-badass-Chuck-Norris-fears-me expression.
“Hiya, Knox.” I do a little finger-wave in his direction, grinning wide.
At that, he definitely smiles — just the tiniest bit of crinkling around his eyes, but still, it counts. In my book, at least.
“Sunshine, I told you to stay in bed.”
When I hear his voice, my eyes move to Chase. He’s leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his broad chest, somehow commanding the space even in his bare feet and boxers. I grin at the sight and cross toward him. As soon as I’m within reach, his arm shoots out and tags me around the waist, hauling me close, so I’m plastered against his side.
I don’t object — in fact, I nestle closer, enjoying his warmth, the way my head fits perfectly in the hollow of his throat, and how good his arm feels, wrapped tight around my shoulders.
“You don’t need to be here for this,” he rumbles softly against my hair.
“It’s about me, right? My apartment and Ralph?”
My question is met with stony silence — which tells me I’m 100% correct.
“That’s what I thought. I’m staying.”
Chase sighs, but doesn’t argue.
“Stubborn,” he mutters.
“Overprotective,” I counter.
He chuckles, but I feel his body go tense as he turns his attention back to Knox.
“What did you find out?”
Knox’s dark eyes flicker from me to Chase. “Goldstein is in the wind. I checked his apartment, went to his office, even paid a visit to a few of his friends. None of them have seen him.”
“You’re sure?” Chase asks. “They aren’t lying, covering for him?”
Knox doesn’t bother to respond, but his eyes glitter with something dark — like onyx exposed to light — and his head bows in the slightest of nods.
He’s sure.
I don’t want to know how he’s so sure. Ever. Because I have a feeling it involves a lot of broken bones and scary threats.
“There’s more,” Knox says, voice low. His dark eyes move to me. “Maybe you should go back to bed, Gemma.”
Chase’s muscles go even tenser and I feel my heartbeat kick into high gear.
“I’m staying.” My voice is resolute, even if there’s fear running through it. “I want to know.”
Knox nods, looking back at Chase. “The apartment was ransacked — you saw that. Nothing valuable was taken. But, after picking through the wreckage, I think he did find something.” His eyes move to mine. “You had a wooden box, beneath your bed.”
Dread drops into my stomach like a stone.
“Looked like you kept lots of old papers in it — high school report cards, old invoices, photographs, that kind of shit. They were scattered all over the floor of your bedroom.” Knox’s gaze narrows on my face. “You know what I’m talking about?”
I nod.
“He put the empty box back on your bed, when he was done. There was a note in it.”
I suck in a nervous breath, and Chase’s arm tightens around me.
“What did it say?” I force myself to ask, dreading the answer.
Knox’s eyes are intent. “‘Tomorrow I won’t be the one they’re laughing at, bitch.’”
“Shit,” I whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Chase turns me in his arms, cups my face between his hands, and bends to look into my eyes. “Gemma. What’s wrong?”
My gaze, wide with panic, flickers up to his. “This is a mess. Oh god, I have to leave. I have to get out of here, leave the city, maybe go back to my Mom’s… ”
“Gemma.” His grip on my face tightens, not enough to hurt me but enough to ground me in the present. “Tell me what’s going on. We’ll fix it.”
“You can’t fix this, Chase!” A hysterical sound bubbles up from my throat. “The press — they’re going to love this. They’ll eat it up. And the fallout… God, I knew this would happen. I knew they’d find out. Dammit, I’m such an idiot.”
“Sunshine.”
“You should cut ties with me, Chase, before the shit hits the fan. This is going to be a freaking circus. They’ll never leave me alone, after this.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Gemma!” His eyes flash with frustration. “Listen to me. I don’t give a shit about your past or the press. It doesn’t fucking matter to me. All that matters is this, right here, you and me.” His voice is unshakable. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. But you have to let me in. You have to trust me enough to make it better.”
I freeze, staring at him. Weighing the truth in his words.
My mother’s voice whispers from the back of my mind.
When you start to fall, don’t talk yourself out of it — the right man will be there at the bottom, to catch you.
“He knows,” I whisper, staring so deep into Chase’s eyes, I can almost see his soul.
“Knows what, sunshine?”
I take a deep breath.
“He knows about my father.”
***
Knox and Chase are both staring at me, expressions of surprise on their typically stoic faces. I can’t exactly blame them; hearing that the man responsible for approximately half my chromosomes is Milo West — the same Milo West who owns seventy percent of New England’s tech industry — is a bombshell big enough to rattle even the most composed person.
“How is that possible?” Knox asks bluntly, shattering the silence.
“My mother never really gave me the down-and-dirty details.” I shrug. “All I know is they met twenty-seven years ago, shared a few weeks of passion, and, like magic, nine months later… abracadabra baby!”
Knox stares at me blankly, clearly not appreciating my attempt at levity.
“Gemma.” My eyes move to Chase when he says my name. “Does he know about you?”
I rub my temple, hoping it might sooth the headache pounding there. “He knows.”
“And?”
I sigh. “And he never had any interest in me, okay? He already had a family by the time I came along. Millionaire tech tycoons don’t exactly make a habit of going to their illegitimate, adulterous love child’s soccer games or invite them to spend the holidays together.”
“He didn’t provide for you at all?”
“He sent money.” A sharp exhale of disgust slips out. “Mom sent it right back. We didn’t need his charity.”
“It’s not charity if he’s your father,” Chase says softly.
“Chase.” I roll my eyes. “Come on. He isn’t my father. He’s nothing more than a sperm donor.”
“Gemma—”
“No!” I run my fingers through my hair, exasperated. “I don’t want to talk about this. And frankly, if it weren’t for Ralph, we wouldn’t be talking about this. Ever.”
Chase’s eyes n
arrow on my face. Mr. CEO does not like the idea of me keeping secrets from him, that much is apparent.
“What was in the box?” Knox’s voice is low, intent.
I glance at him. “My birth certificate. The FATHER section is blank, so that wouldn’t have been much help to him. But… there were letters.”
He lifts one eyebrow in question.
“He wrote to my mother, during their — I’m not sure you can call it a relationship. During their affair, I suppose. Love letters, full of pretty words and promises. Or, they were… until he found out she was pregnant. ”
Knox’s eyes narrow and Chase’s jaw clenches as they wait for me to finish.
“He sent her $800 and told her to get rid of it. Of me.” I swallow, trying to keep my cool. “He said he couldn’t jeopardize his family with…”
“With what?” Chase’s voice vibrates with barely-leashed fury.
I swallow again. “With a mistake.”
“Fucking asshole.” Chase curses so loud I flinch at the sound of it. “If I ever cross paths with him…”
“Chase.” I lay a hand on his arm and wait until his livid gaze lifts to mine. When it does, I make my voice as calm as possible. “He’s not worth it.”
The muscle ticks in his cheek on steady intervals as he fights to control his temper. I have a distinct feeling if he ever runs into Milo West in a dark alley… only one of them will come out alive.
“Ralph has them,” Knox says, calling my attention back to him. “The letters.”
I nod. “And I’m sure he’s already delivered them to every news outlet he can think of. I’m actually surprised he had the patience to wait until tomorrow’s broadcast to ruin my life.”
“This isn’t going to ruin your life.” Chase’s voice is resolute.
“Maybe not,” I agree softly. “But it will destroy my mother’s.”
His eyes cut to Knox. “See if you can find him before he gets to the networks. I’ll call my lawyers, see if they can work up an injunction before whatever they have airs. It may not stop them forever, but it might give us a few hours. I’ve got some favors I can call in, if I need to.”
Knox nods to Chase, glances briefly at me, then turns and heads for the elevator.
“Bye!” I call to his retreating back.
He doesn’t answer as he enters the elevator and pushes a button, but just before the doors slide shut, I notice the skin around his eyes is doing the crinkly thing again and I know, despite his badass-exterior, he’s smiling on the inside.
“Go back to bed, sunshine.” Chase’s voice is gentle. “I’ll call the lawyers. See what they can do.”
“How can they possibly do anything this quickly? And at this time of night?” I ask, incredulous. “It’s past one.”
I see amusement flash in his eyes. “Gemma, my family has had their fair share of indiscretions and interactions with the press. Things like this are the exact reason I pay my lawyers such a shitload of money. You could buy a private island with the amount the Crofts have spent on retainer fees over the past decade to cover up scandals and keep things out of the public eye.”
I wouldn’t touch that statement with a ten-foot pole.
“But they won’t be able to stop the story forever, right?” I ask instead.
“We’ll stop it.”
I wish I felt as sure as he sounds.
I sigh. “All my life, I’ve been hiding from this. And now… the press is going to have a field day. They’ll be like dogs with a juicy bone, sucking every drop of marrow they can get from this story. And if it were just me, that’d be one thing. But it’s going to affect my mother, too. They’ll drag her into it, upend the life she’s built without him…”
“I’ll have a man from my security team watch her. If the story breaks, the press won’t even get close enough for photos.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, meaning it. “But it’s not just that. Milo West…” My tongue feels awkward even saying his name, after a lifetime of resolutely refusing to acknowledge his existence. “He broke her heart. She fell in love with him, had a child for him… and he picked his perfect family over her. She never moved on, afterward. So, having all this ancient history dredged up and thrown in her face… I’m worried it’ll break her heart all over again.”
“And yours?” Chase asks, his tone soft as he takes a step closer to me. “What about your heart, Gemma?”
“You can’t get hurt if you don’t care,” I say automatically, the line well rehearsed after years of telling it to myself. “And I don’t give a shit about Milo West.”
I feel Chase’s fingers lace through mine and squeeze lightly. With a gentle tug, he pulls me close. His free arm wraps around my back and his cheek comes down to rest on the crown of my head, so I’m pressed hard against his bare chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat strong beneath my ear.
“Sunshine,” he whispers against my hair.
“I’m okay. Really.”
And in that moment, despite everything happening in my life, it’s not a lie.
I really am okay.
Actually, I’m better than just okay.
I’m safe.
***
Despite my best intentions, I fall asleep curled up on the couch, watching the flames dance on the grate and listening to the murmur of Chase’s voice as he orders his lawyers to work their magic and stop the presses before they can further derail my life.
I don’t know how long I’m asleep, but it feels like hours later when I stir awake in Chase’s arms as he carries me through the dark apartment and settles us back in his bed, beneath his zillion-thread-count black sheets. I’m so exhausted I can’t even crack open my eyes or lift my head from where it rests against the warm skin of his chest.
“What did the lawyers say?” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the thundering of his heartbeat, directly beneath my ear.
“Shh, sunshine. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
He breathes the words into my hair, his arms banding tighter around my back so I’m snug and warm against him. I feel one hand slip up under my t-shirt, and seconds later, his fingers begin to trace soothing circles against the small of my back. The other hand slides up to caress the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck and his fingers stroke through the hair there, offering comfort in the simplest of ways. His touch is absentminded, totally natural, with none of the forced intimacy of my past conquests – like it’s something he’s done a million times before without even having to think about it.
He touches me like a habit.
I’m startled by how much I like the idea of making habits with Chase.
It should scare me — how easy, how perfect it feels, being with him. All of this should have me running for the hills. In the past, this exact thing — a guy pushing past the physical connection to real emotion — has sent me running for the hills.
But here, in Chase’s bed, drinking him in with every one of my senses, I can’t pretend not to feel it — the intimacy of the moment. The sweet, beautiful, heart-aching simplicity of a hand in my hair, of arms wrapped tight around me. There’s nothing sexual about his touch — only comfort, compassion between two people who care for one another. And still, with just the trace of his fingertips on my skin, he reaches deeper into my soul than any man has ever done before, even in the throes of the best orgasm of my life.
Seriously — it should freak me out.
It freaks me out that it doesn’t freak me out.
I sigh as all the tension slips out of me and I relax against him, my limbs like water. I’ve never done this before — just slept with a man, in the most basic form of the word. My one-night stands either fled in the cover of darkness or hung around just long enough to make things awkward in the morning. And Ralph… well, after he finished — regardless of whether I’d even come close in the two minutes he spent pumping away with the impatience of a boy inflating his bicycle tires — he’d roll to the other side of the bed, as far from me as
he could get, and start snoring loud enough to make my headboard shake.
So romantic.
Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around Chase’s body and snuggle closer.
“You’re good at this,” I whisper sleepily.
I feel his body still beneath mine. “What, sunshine?”
“This.” I squeeze my arms tighter. “Us. You’re good at it.”
He’s quiet but, after a few seconds, I feel his lips press against my hair.
“Only because it’s you,” he murmurs, making my heart turn in my chest.
“I’ve never done this before.” My words are practically inaudible, but somehow, he hears me.
“I know, sunshine.”
“I might be bad at it.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”
My eyes crack open and I shift against him so I can meet his eyes. Even in the dark, I see they’re soft and warm.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
His arms tighten around me. “I know.”
“This stuff — letting you in — it doesn’t come naturally to me.” I take a deep breath, trying desperately to keep my voice from shaking. “He’s got another family, you know. That’s why he didn’t stay with my mom.”
Chase stills completely, his eyes on mine. “I know.”
“I have an older brother I’ve never met. A little sister, too.” I swallow. “I always wanted siblings. Even more than I wanted a father, growing up, I wanted brothers and sisters to play with.”
Chase’s fingers stroke through my hair.
“It was just me and Mom. She didn’t ever tell me about him — she just said he left us, before I was born. She didn’t want me to know I was half West.” I sigh. “I get why she kept it from me, now. She didn’t want me to see the life we almost had. It would’ve been like telling a little street urchin her father was the king — that she should’ve been a princess, not a pauper.”
“How did you find out?”
“I found the letters, when I was fifteen. She kept them in her jewelry box. I was trying on her necklaces, one day, when she wasn’t home. And there they were, at the bottom of the drawer. Letters from my father.” I take another steadying breath. “I was so mad, it sent me into a tailspin. Drinking, drugs, boys — any trouble I could get my hands on. The rest of my teenage years passed in a blur. I was mad for a long time.” My hands curl involuntarily. “I’m still mad, if I’m being honest. Not with Mom — with him. Milo. For doing that to her.”
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