“I can’t.”
He leaned in, his eyes darkening when they washed down the summer dress I was wearing. “I can make you.”
A puff of air burst from my mouth. “A pharmacy of highly controlled substances couldn’t at this point. What makes you think you can?”
His hand slid beneath the hem of my dress. “Carnal knowledge.” He leaned in, his mouth grazing my collarbone right before his teeth nipped at the delicate skin. “Of a very particular sensitive spot on your body.” When his hand reached the apex of my legs, his knuckles skimmed down my panties. “All I need is two minutes and a willing attitude.”
My back tensed when his pinkie tucked inside my panties, a throaty growl coming from him when he felt my “willingness.”
“Chase.” I glanced at the side-view mirror when he unbuckled, his hand tugging my panties down my hips. “A car could be coming.”
He leaned over my lap, his head dipping under my dress as he shoved my legs apart. “I don’t give a fuck.” He sucked me into his mouth in a way that had me grabbing the headrest behind me as though I were trying to tear it off. “The only thing I’m worried about coming right now is you.”
When we made our appearance at my parents’ that afternoon, I was relaxed. Flustered and fidgeting with the hem of my dress to make sure it was back where it was supposed to be, but as calm as could be expected given the circumstances.
Even as a fifteen-year-old girl, convincing my family and friends that Lloyd Lawson’s son had more to offer than the shadow his father cast in town had been difficult. My friends had warmed up to Chase first, my parents a while after, but after he’d bailed, all bets were off. I really wasn’t sure how he’d be received by everyone tonight, but if Chase was at all concerned, he didn’t show it.
“It looks exactly the same as I remember.” Chase paused outside my door after opening it to stare at the farm. There was the shadow of a smile on his face, but it fully manifested when his gaze traveled to the old porch swing we’d shared our first kiss on.
“Some things never change.”
“Thank god,” he replied softly.
I heard a din of voices coming from behind the house, where my parents hosted the majority of the fair weather get-togethers. A person could watch the sunset light up a field of wheat from the perch of a picnic bench, then move on to dancing on an earthen floor beneath a shelter of white lights.
“Ready?” I asked him as we rounded the side of the house.
“I’ve got my bullet-proof vest in place and my best self-deprecating lines in a queue. I’m set.”
When he took my hand, the tension in my shoulders melted. There was something so simple about my hand inside of Chase’s, it ushered away the complexities of life.
The buzz of voices dropped to silence when we came into view around back. What felt like a hundred sets of eyes zeroed in on us, the thoughts behind those stares on display for anyone to read.
Mom was the first one to break through the crust of surprise, holding out her arms as she approached. My throat tightened when I saw her, a happy sob escaping when she gathered me into her arms. Twenty-eight years old, and my mom’s hug could still fix just about anything.
“Goodness gracious, I missed you.” She kissed my temple, patting my back. “Phone calls and texts just aren’t the same as a good old-fashioned hug.”
Just over her shoulder, I could make out Dad making his way toward us. Slowly. Each step closer had a direct effect on the tension in his jawline.
When Dad ended up in front of us, he gathered me up as Mom had, hugging me as though it had been a lifetime instead of a couple of months. When he let go, he was more relaxed, able to look at Chase without a gleam that suggested he wanted to behead him.
“Chase.” Dad tipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Mr. North,” Chase replied. “Thanks for having me here. I know how you must feel about me.”
Dad moved closer. “I lost my respect for you ten years ago when you left the way you did. But I swear to god if you hurt her this time, I will not exercise the same self-control I showed back then.”
Chase held out his hand. “I hurt her, and I’ll hand you the shotgun.”
Dad looped his thumbs behind his belt buckle, sniffing. “Heard about that woman who claimed to be the mother of your baby. How did you manage to get that brouhaha to go away so quickly?”
Beside Chase, I tensed. I should have known my dad would lead with the heavy artillery first.
“Because it wasn’t true,” Chase replied, his face the picture of calm. “I’d never met the woman before in my life and I sure as hell hadn’t made a baby with her.” Chase tipped his head at my mom. “Pardon my language, Mrs. North.”
“You have some kind of DNA test to confirm it? The little tyke didn’t have your eyes? What made you so sure it wasn’t your kid?” Dad pressed, the wrinkles along his forehead setting deeper.
“The baby isn’t mine.” Chase’s hand came to rest on my lower back, knowing how sensitive I was about the issue. Even after his explanation and being on the diminishing end of the media craze, I still bore a sore spot where other women were concerned. There might not have been any others in the intimate sense, but there were literally tens of thousands willing to sell their souls for a night with Chase Lawson. It hadn’t bothered me in high school because those girls I knew and could chase away if need be, but how did a person contend with an entire planet of competitors?
I couldn’t, so I either had to accept it or step aside.
“If the kid isn’t yours, why did I hear you set up some kind of trust for its college education?” Dad shook his head when Mom started to interject. “Why does a person do that if they’re not somehow responsible for that little life?”
“I guess I do.” Chase’s big shoulders moved beneath his shirt. “The way I see it, if that woman is claiming I’m the father of her baby, it must mean the real daddy isn’t in the picture. I figured that kid could use every leg up he could get, so that’s why I set up the trust. I take care of my responsibilities, Mr. North. And I also do the responsible thing.”
I relaxed, giving Chase a small smile. I hadn’t understood at first why he’d decided to set aside college money for a baby that wasn’t his—it seemed as though it would only give credit to the woman’s claims—but I got it now. He’d done the right thing.
“And what if more woman come forward claiming to be carrying your babies? You gonna bankroll every one of them too?” Dad’s voice wasn’t as gruff as it had been, though he was still staring at Chase like he was fantasizing about squashing him under the heel of his favorite boots.
“Don’t know. I can’t predict the future. All I know was that to that one kid, I was able to make a difference.” Chase’s mouth twitched at one corner. “But if this keeps happening, I might have to consider dropping some hints to the media that I’m gay. I know some of the tabloids already have their suspicions, so it shouldn’t take too much convincing.”
When I crossed my arms and gave him a look, all he did was pinch my backside. Lucky for him, my daddy didn’t see and I didn’t flinch.
“My life would be a hell of a lot easier if you were gay, son.” Dad shook his head, holding out his hand.
Like me, Chase gaped at my father’s extended hand for a few minutes before realizing what it meant. My dad had never seen Chase fit to shake hands with before.
Mom watched with the same disbelief I was as the two shook hands, though I didn’t miss the way both of their grips edged into the excessive zone.
“You kids better go say hi to everyone else. They’ve been dying to see you.” When Chase’s forehead creased, Dad clapped my shoulder. “Dying to see her.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” I said to him as we started toward the hub of the party.
“Good to know your friends don’t hold onto a grudge,” he said with sarcasm.
“They used to be your friends too.” I gave him an innocent smile. “Until you committed
a treasonous act on one of their own and shall now forever be shunned.”
“Hey, Lawson!” one of the guys circled around the horseshoe pit hollered. “Grab a plate and a brew and get your famous ass over here. We’ve gotta see if you can still play horseshoes or if all that pampering has made you soft.”
After waving at the guys, Chase turned to me with a smirk.
I smiled. “Holding a long-term grudge for a guy is like forty-eight hours. Just you wait. The girls will freeze you out.”
Chase stuffed his hands in his pockets, grinning at me as he moved backward. “Maybe some of us have matured. Maybe some of us realize people can change and even when we do screw up, it’s part of life.”
My hand settled on my hip. “Seriously, if someone screwed me over and came at me with ‘it’s part of life,’ they would not be walking away with all of their teeth in place.”
Chase tapped his temple. “Noted.” Then he turned and jogged toward the horseshoe pit, where he was greeted by the guys like he’d never left.
“Just so you know, I threatened Rob with microwave dinners for the next month if he didn’t give Chase the cold shoulder for at least the first half of this thing.” Brooke sighed as she waved at the guys laughing and dividing into teams. “I guess my cooking still really sucks.”
“Or maybe he really loves microwave meals?” I suggested, although it wasn’t a secret that Brooke was prone to setting toast on fire.
“Get over here.” She weaved her arm through mine to steer me toward the girls staggered around the tables, dishing up their kids’ plates or keeping them from putting dirt into their mouths.
“How are you?” Brooke asked, though not the typical way a person asks that question. Hiding between her words was the request for the entire thesis, complete with annotations.
“Things have been really good,” I said, reminding myself that my friends didn’t know about Chase’s and my agreement. “Weird, kind of, and sometimes confusing . . . but good.”
Jesse and Sophia were creeping their way into earshot, still watching their little ones like hawks.
“Weird. Confusing. Good.” Brooke blinked at me, waiting for a drawn-out explanation.
“It’s Chase and me. Back together after the mess we left things in.” I smiled my thanks when Jesse handed me a cold bottle of beer. “It’s not going to be a rosy picnic. It never was.”
“Yeah, but what in the world possessed you to get back with him after what he did to you?” Sophia asked, pointing her beer in Chase’s direction. “I mean, yeah, he’s a handsome son of a bitch and he’s probably got more money than a Saudi prince, but you’re not shallow like that. Right?” Sophia shifted as her face fell. “Please don’t tell me you’re shallow.”
“He’s not that rich or good-looking.” As I took a drink of my beer, three sets of eyes narrowed on me. “Okay, fine, he is on both counts, but that’s not why we’re back together.”
“Then why? Because the night of the reunion, your Loathing Meter was at record-breaking levels where Chase was concerned. And then I find out a few days later you guys are back together and you’re going on tour with him.” Sophia stepped closer, inspecting me as though she were looking for signs of alien abduction. Or possible demon possession.
“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked that night and that was that.”
“You talked?” Brooke said. “That must have been one earth-shattering, mind-blowing talk.”
I swatted her arm. “Hate to disappoint that dirty mind of yours, but conversation is all we made that night.”
“And what? He talked you into getting back together?” Brooke asked. “You straight up hated him, Em.”
“He talked me into giving him a second chance. And I didn’t hate him. I hated what happened.”
Brooke gestured toward the guys. “It was all his fault what happened.”
“A young boy made a mistake.” I shrugged.
“Yeah, maybe . . . but I’m more concerned about the grown woman making her own.” Brooke’s arm wound around my waist before she tipped her head against mine. “Just be careful, ‘kay? I don’t want to see you hurt like that again.”
“Don’t worry.” My gaze fell upon Chase, and that familiar tightness gripped my chest. “I’m taking it one day at a time,” I said to my friends, though it was more a promise to myself.
Three months and eight days left.
12
“Halfway through.” Mom handed me one of the homemade pies to set out for dessert. “You seem like you’re holding up well.” She eyed me from the side as she pulled a big tub of vanilla bean ice cream from the freezer.
“I am,” I said, winding out of the kitchen.
“And things between you two seem civil.” Mom followed me after grabbing an ice cream scoop.
“Yep.”
My tone must have alerted her first, but when she came up beside me, studying my face, she exhaled. “Emma Grace North.”
I ducked out through the slider before she could lock me inside the house and interrogate me.
When she caught up with me, I said, “It’s nothing.”
“That blush on your face implies otherwise.”
My steps slowed as we approached the party. It was dark now, the strung lights casting a soft glow on the festivities. Dad had lit a fire in the pit and everyone seemed to be congregating around it, except for one figure sticking to the shadows. Chase had Brooke’s littlest settled against his chest and was gently bouncing as he walked, trying to soothe the wailing baby. I’d never seen him holding a baby before . . . and it was probably a good thing I hadn’t.
My lungs clocked out while my ovaries went on high alert.
“Sweetie, listen, I know he was young when he left and I know nobody’s perfect.” Mom set the bucket of ice cream on the table with the rest of the pies. “But I also know some things are better left in the past.” She gave my wrist a soft squeeze, tipping her head in Chase’s direction. “History lessons are for learning, not reliving.”
I tried to tear my eyes from him, but it was a physical impossibility. “I promised him six months. That’s all.”
Mom took the pie from me and set it down. “Don’t forget to remind yourself of that the next time you get that look in your eyes when you see him.” She shifted in front of me, her wrinkles set deeper than usual.
Clearing my throat, I shook off my temporary paralysis. “What look?”
Mom turned to slice the pies. “The one that says you’ve already named all six kids you’re imagining having of his.”
“Mom—”
“Here. I’m guessing apple pie’s still his favorite.” She held out a plate of freshly sliced pie for me to take.
I nodded and scooped some ice cream over the pie. “It is.”
Mom moved on to the next plate. “Some things don’t change.”
I scampered away before she could go into any detail. Of course Mom had figured it out, but she had the sense not to tell Dad. If he so much as suspected Chase and I were kinda back together for real he’d have been hauled off in a police cruiser hours ago.
“Pie?” I said quietly as I came up behind him, not about to wake the baby now that it wasn’t screaming anymore.
Chase circled around, still bouncing as he patted the baby’s back. He smiled when he saw me.
“It’s apple,” I said, holding up the plate. “Sorry we don’t have crustless kale paste pie.”
Chase lifted his finger before heading toward a stroller. He somehow managed to get the baby from his chest to the stroller without waking her, then he tucked a light blanket around her. Motioning over at Rob before pointing at the stroller and making a sleeping face, he strolled my way.
“Your charades game is on point,” I said, holding out the plate.
“Only surpassed by my baby whispering game.” He dove into the pie the instant he took it from me.
“Yeah, I noticed that. Since when did you become such a pro with babies?”
He finis
hed his bite before replying. “I get a lot of babies dropped, thrown, and pushed into my arms. Necessity is the quickest teacher.” He held the next bite up for me.
I made the same kind of face he was after taking a bite. “My mom makes a mean apple pie.”
“The best,” he said before downing another massive bite.
“It seems like the night’s gone rather well for you. Welcomed back into the traitorous group with open arms, horseshoe victor, and champion of babies.” I caught my hand as it was moving to his chest, tying it behind my back with the other one.
“It’s been an amazing night.” The lights in his eyes flickered.
Lifting onto my tiptoes, I whispered, “You want to get out of here?”
He set the plate on the closest table. “Do you think they’ll miss us?”
“No,” I answered too quickly. “Maybe. But by the time they do, we’ll be long gone.”
There was a shadow of debate in his expression.
“Come on. I want to show you something.”
He followed me, his mouth sliding into an uneven line. “My favorite something you could show me?”
I exhaled. “Is sex always on your mind?”
“You are always on my mind.” He smacked my backside once he caught up, making me flinch. “So yeah, sex is pretty much always on my mind too.”
“You’re slapping my ass and talking about sex while sneaking off into the dark with me while my dad is fifty yards away. You’re walking thin ice, Lawson.”
He glanced back at the party still in full swing, the cluster of people gathering around the fire. His shoulders rose. “I’m just following the woman luring me out onto that thin ice with her.”
“This way,” I said once we were around the side of the house. “Try to keep up.”
My legs took off through the field, carrying me as though gravity or speed had no hold over my body. I heard him behind me, thrashing through the tall grass, his laugh tangling with mine. I felt like a kid again, like the summer Chase and his dad had first moved to town and we’d become fast friends after becoming faster enemies. He was as much a part of my life as these fields were, the soil that generations of my ancestors had worked before me.
Fool Me Once Page 12