Bossman

by Vi Keeland

  He’d told me he wanted to try. But trying and actually putting the past behind you were two very different things. I should know.

  “To be honest, the last seven years, I had no idea I wasn’t moving on. Thought what I was doing was moving on.”

  “You mean sleeping with women?”

  He shook his head. “Yeah. I was standing in place a long time. Not letting go.”

  “But you think you’re ready to move on now?”

  “I think it took me this long to realize what moving on meant. It doesn’t mean forgetting what you’ve left behind. It means making her a memory and deciding to have a future without her in it.”

  “Wow. That’s sad and beautiful at the same time.”

  He took my hand. “This feels right. So, to answer your question…am I able to move on now? It feels like I already have.”

  Chase was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. Setting my container down on the table next to his, I climbed over him, straddling his hips, and gently kissed his lips.

  “That was a really good answer,” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah? Do I get a prize for the right answer?” Chase’s thumb brushed gently along my jaw.

  “You do. You get your pick of rewards. Tell me how you’d like to receive yours, and your wish is my command.”

  I felt his cock harden beneath me. “Any way I want?”

  I nuzzled into him. “Any way you want.”

  He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled hard, gaining access to my neck. Leaning in, his tongue licked its way from the top of my throat down to my collarbone. Reaching the soft spot between my neck and shoulder, his teeth sunk in, not breaking the skin but strong enough that I suspected I’d have a mark tomorrow.

  I moaned, and Chase ground up, pushing his erection into me with a groan.

  “Does any way I want include tying you to the bed for days?”

  Just as he pulled me down to him again, sealing his mouth over mine, his cell phone began to ring.

  “That’s you,” I mumbled into our joined mouths.

  “Ignore it.”

  His hand slipped under my blouse and found my pert nipples, which made ignoring the ringing cell easy. But then thirty seconds after it stopped, it started again. Someone really wanted to reach Chase.

  “Don’t you even want to see who it is?”

  His dexterous fingers unhooked my bra. “Don’t care.”

  But when his phone stopped and started a third time, even Chase couldn’t ignore it any more. He groaned and reached into his pocket to dig his cell out.

  “Shit. It’s my brother-in-law. He never calls. I need to take it.”

  I leaned back and gave him room.

  “What’s up?”

  I heard a man’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words.

  “Isn’t it too early?” And then, “Yeah. Okay. I’m on my way.”

  He swiped to end the call.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My sister’s in labor. She’s a month early, but her water broke, and they said the baby is far enough along that it’s safe to deliver. Sounds like she’s going to have him really soon.”

  “Wow. That’s exciting.”

  Even though it had sounded like he was going to leave right away, Chase made no immediate attempt to move. So I prodded him.

  “Go. I’ll take a rain check on tonight. Besides…” I teased. “I didn’t have any rope anyway.”

  “Will you come with me? Keep me company. Meet my new nephew?”

  “Sure. I’d like that. Let me quick clean up so Ugly Kitty doesn’t polish off the rest of the Chinese food, and we’ll go.”

  ***

  Evan, Chase’s brother-in-law, had just given us an update and gone back in to his wife. He’d been dressed in blue scrubs and a hat with matching blue paper booties over his shoes.

  “How is what he was wearing any different than street clothes?” Chase asked. “He just walked through the hospital and out into the waiting room wearing that outfit. It’s not like it’s any more sterile than what I’m wearing now.”

  “You have a point,” I said. “Maybe they just make the father wear it so he feels like he’s part of the team.”

  “Maybe. But if I know my sister, Evan’s the only teammate she’s berating right now while she’s in labor.”

  I shrugged. “That seems fair, if you ask me. He didn’t have to walk around carrying a bowling ball for nine months, and doesn’t have to suffer through labor. The least he can do is take some abuse.”

  Chase smiled at me. “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  We were the only two in the waiting room, so I pulled my legs up and snuggled into him. Chase pulled me closer and wrapped an arm around me.

  “You want to berate your husband some day?”

  That was a strange question. “Not on a daily basis, I hope.”

  He chuckled. “I meant in the delivery room. I was asking you if you wanted to have kids some day?”

  “Oh.” I laughed. “I totally missed that.”

  “Kinda figured that from your answer.”

  I thought for a minute before responding. “I never really thought I’d get married, much less have kids. I guess my parents didn’t give us the best example. Even before everything happened with Owen, all they did was fight all the time. I remember playing house with my friend Allison when we were in elementary school. She’d pretend to be the mom and be baking a cake in the fake oven, and I’d be the dad and come home and pick a fight. Her mom overheard us play-arguing one day and thought we’d gotten into a real fight. When we told her we were playing house, she asked why we were yelling, and I said because the daddy came home. I remember her just staring at me, not knowing what to say.”

  Chase squeezed me.

  “I started to see things a little clearer as I grew older, realizing not all families were as dysfunctional as mine. But by then, I was already checking under the bed two and three times when I walked in the door. I guess I just couldn’t imagine having a family of my own when I was afraid of imaginary things that lurked in my apartment.”

  “Sounds like what you really need is someone to make you feel safe. The rest will just fall into place.”

  I pulled my head out from its comfy place in the crook of his shoulder and looked up at him. “You might be right.”

  If only it were that easy.

  ***

  It was after five in the morning when a booming voice woke us. Evan looked exhausted, stunned, and out-of-his-mind happy when he announced he had a son. He and Chase exchanged hugs and talked for a few minutes before Evan said he’d better go check on his wife.

  “Room 210. I have to get back before she convinces the doctor to give me a vasectomy without anesthesia. But they said she’ll probably be in her room within the hour.”

  Chase headed to the lobby to get us some coffees while I went to the bathroom to wash up. I had some dried drool on my cheek, and my hair looked like a giant rat’s nest, even though I’d slept sitting up in one position. Splashing some water on my face, I realized I was about to meet Chase’s sister for the first time.

  Over the last few days, it felt like our relationship had changed. It wasn’t just physical anymore. Chase and I had shared a lot about our lives and the things that made us who we were, and now I was already about to meet some of his family. Things moving this fast would normally scare the crap out of me. Yet I found I was more anxious and excited than nervous.

  ***

  Anna was the spitting image of Chase—only somehow his rough edges were smoothed out, and his masculinity had been replaced with feminine beauty. I smiled at the way his sister lit up when she saw him.

  “You’re here?”

  He pecked her cheek. “I couldn’t listen to you complain about missing it for the next fifty years. Of course I’m here.”

  Evan slapped Chase on the back. “Come on, walk with me to the nursery. They should be finished cleaning him up by now.�
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  Chase did a quick introduction for Anna and me before leaving the room with his brother-in-law.

  “I had a feeling I’d meet you eventually,” she said.

  I was surprised she knew anything about me—even that I existed.

  “Congratulations. I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I wanted to keep Chase company while he waited. I can wait outside and give you some privacy.”

  “I just had half the hospital staring up my gown. Getting to shut my legs feels like privacy at this point.” Her smile was genuine.

  I laughed. “Did you pick out a name for your son yet?”

  “Sawyer. We’re naming him after my Dad. Sawyer Evan.”

  “That’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad Chase brought you. He talks about you at our weekly dinners. I’ll admit, I was curious.”

  “Curious? Why?”

  “He doesn’t usually talk about women, doesn’t bring them to any family events, and definitely doesn’t leave them alone around me.”

  I smiled. “He’s afraid you’ll tell all his secrets?”

  “Yep. And I better hurry and do it because the nursery is only down the hall.”

  I thought she was kidding, but then her face turned serious.

  “My brother is a great guy—ask him, he’ll tell you,” she joked. “But the thing is…underneath all that cocky arrogance, I think he’s afraid of a relationship.”

  “Because of Peyton, you mean?”

  Anna looked surprised. “You know the whole story?”

  “I think so. Can’t say I blame him for being nervous about getting close to anyone after what happened. People are afraid for much less than that.” Like me, for example.

  She nodded like we were on the same page. “Just don’t let him fool you. He walks around like he’s wearing a coat of armor, but the truth is, there’re some chinks in that protective shield.”

  “Maybe that’s why we get along so well. My armor has some pretty big bullet holes. But thank you. I’ll try to remember mine are just more noticeable than his.”

  Chase walked in behind Evan, who was wheeling a plastic baby carrier. In the center of the translucent tray lay a tiny bundle swaddled in blue hospital blankets.

  “Didn’t even have to look at him to know which one was yours,” Chase teased his sister. “He was screaming so loud. Kid’s got your lungs already.”

  Her husband gently lifted the baby and placed him in Anna’s arms. She cooed to him and then lifted him up so we could see his sweet little face.

  “This is your Uncle Chase. I hope you got your brains from him, but your looks from me.”

  Chase leaned closer. “Considering you look just like me, that’s a smart wish.”

  Anna rocked the baby in her arms when he started to fuss. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet? I told Evan not to call since it was so late.”

  “I haven’t. But they wouldn’t have been able to get a flight up from Florida until this morning anyway.”

  We stayed with Anna and Evan another half hour until Anna yawned. She must have been exhausted after being in labor all night. Hell, I was exhausted just from napping in the waiting room.

  Traffic was light in the city as we pulled out of the lot around the corner from the hospital. “Your place or mine?”

  “That’s presumptuous of you,” I teased.

  “You make me keep my distance at the office during the week. It’s Saturday. I figure the weekend is mine.”

  I thought back to what had transpired yesterday, what we were almost caught doing. “You didn’t seem to be keeping your distance yesterday when you had me pinned down face-first on your desk.”

  He groaned and adjusted himself in his seat. “Your place. It’s closer. And now that you just reminded me of how spectacular your ass looked raised in the air, that’s the way I’m going to take you the first time when we get home.”

  It was just a figure of speech, I knew, but I loved the sound of Chase saying when we get home.

  Although, what I loved even more was what he did when we arrived at my place. Taking the keys from my hand, he unlocked my bevy of locks on the front door and walked inside first. He then completed my ritualistic entry sweep. Twice. In my exact neurotic order, all while holding Tallulah.

  After he finished, he kissed my forehead. “Good?”

  Nodding, I pushed up on my toes and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. By the way, I called the guy who did the security at the office. They’re going to install a monitoring system here. I’ve referred a lot of business his way. He owed me a favor, so he’s doing the install free, and the monthly cost will be absorbed into the office bill.”

  “What? No.”

  “Too late—it’s being installed next week. He’s going to get back to me with which day he can get here. I’ll need a key to let them in, or you’ll need to be here.”

  “Chase, I don’t need an alarm.”

  “You’re right, you don’t. But it will make me feel better, especially when I’m traveling and out of town.”

  “But…”

  He lowered his head and silenced me by pressing his lips to mine. “Please. Let me do this. It will make me feel better.”

  I huffed and stared at him. Eventually, I gave. “Fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  I dug my extra set of keys out of a drawer for him, told him to relax, and went into the kitchen to make us some omelets for breakfast. We ate in the living room in front of the TV, watching Good Morning America, and then snuggled on the couch, him lying behind me. Although we’d slept for a little while at the hospital, both of us had been sitting up in chairs, which wasn’t productive sleep at all.

  I yawned. “Your sister seems great.”

  “She’s a pain in the ass. But she’s good people.”

  He took a deep breath in and out, and I felt his breathing begin to slow. After only a few minutes, I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke, his voice groggy. “She’s going to make a good mom. So will you someday.”

  Chapter 25

  Chase – Seven years ago

  I couldn’t smile at another person.

  “Thank you for coming.” I shook another faceless hand. Next.

  “Yes. She was a beautiful woman.” Next.

  “I’ll be okay. Thank you.” Next.

  It just needed to be over.

  I was supposed to ride with Peyton’s mother and her sisters from the funeral service over to the cemetery, but when the back door of the limousine closed, my lungs suddenly felt deprived of air. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fucking breathe. My chest burned, and I knew I was two seconds away from gasping for air. Flinging the door back open, I gulped fresh breaths before excusing myself with a lie that I needed to escort my parents.

  A light, misting rain had just begun, and everyone hurried from the church to their parked cars. Tucking my head down, I walked past the row of waiting stretches without anyone noticing. So I just kept on walking. Four or five blocks later, the mist had turned to pouring rain. I was soaked, yet didn’t feel anything. Not a damn thing. Inside and out, I was bone dry.

  My judgment wasn’t the best, which was probably why I decided to walk into a seedy bar a half-mile in the opposite direction of the cemetery and plant myself on a stool.

  “Jack and Coke with an extra shot of Jack on the side.”

  The old bartender looked me over and nodded. I peeled off my drenched, dark suit jacket and tossed it on the empty chair beside me.

  There was only one other person in the bar—an old man who had his head down on the bar and an empty pint glass gripped in his hand.

  “What’s up with him?” I asked the bartender when he brought my drinks. He looked over his shoulder.

  He shrugged. “That’s Barney.”

  He said it like that would explain everything. I nodded and picked up my shot, sucking it back. The liquid singed my throat the same way the air had in the limousine. I slid th
e empty shot glass back over to the bartender and pointed my eyes down to it with a nod.

  He spoke as he poured. “Only ten-thirty in the morning.”

  My phone started to ring, so I slipped it from my pocket and tossed it on the bar, hitting ignore without even looking at the name of the caller. Picking up the full shot glass, I again tossed back the liquid. It burned less going down the second time. I liked the way it felt.

  “Keep ‘em coming.”

  The bartender hesitated. “Got a problem you wanna talk about?”

  Looking over at Barney, I shook my head. “I’m Chase.”

  ***

  A big mound of dirt was covered with a green tarp. The tents set up to shelter the mourners were still standing, but the people were long gone. Well, all except one lone man standing by himself. I’d missed the beginning of the graveside service and spent the part I did see standing off in the distance where the taxi had dropped me off. Preferring to say my goodbyes in private, I figured I’d wait for whomever the latecomer was to take off.

  The alcohol had slowed my responses, so it took almost a full minute for the face to register when the man turned around. Chester Morris. Peyton’s goddamned father. I’d never met him myself, only seen him in pictures, yet I was positive it was him—mostly because Peyton looked just like the man. My heart, which had been beating listlessly in my chest, suddenly hammered inside of my rib cage.

  How dare he show up here?

  This was all his fault.

  All his fucking fault.

  Without thinking it through, I trudged through the wet grass toward the grave. He was looking down and didn’t see me coming.

  “She was following a homeless person.”

  He turned around, having no idea who I was, and hung his head, nodding. “I read it in the paper.”

  “Do you know why she was following him?” My voice rose. “Why she took it upon herself to try to help every fucking homeless person in this city?”

  “Who are you?”

  I ignored him. “Because after you walked out on her mother and sisters, she practically lived in a shelter for years.”