The old house came into view when we peaked the next hill, and I paused to give us a second to catch our breaths.
Chase was breathing as hard as I was when he shouldered beside me. “I had other plans for this energy than racing through a mile’s worth of wheat field.”
“Then we better walk the rest of the way.” My hand slid into his before we cut through the last bit of field toward the old homestead.
Chase finally noticed what we were moving toward. “This is where we used to play hide-and-seek as kids.”
I nodded.
His fingers tightened around mine. “What game did you have in mind to play now as adults?”
I fought my smile. “Monopoly,” I said, all matter-of-fact.
He frowned. “Monopoly?”
“I rolled the dice, landed on a square that gave me one million dollars. I’m spending it to restore this place.”
Chase regarded the house with different eyes. “And here I thought you were planning on blowing it all on male strippers and cocaine.”
“That’s my Plan B.”
He chuckled as we rolled to a stop at the bottom of the dilapidated staircase heading to the porch. “Seems a little big for one person.”
My head twisted in his direction. “The man who lives in a mansion that makes other mansions look like shacks did not just say that.”
He drew a zipper across his lips, his eyes amused.
“And for your information, I’m going to turn it into a B&B with a working farm twist.” I started up the stairs, keeping to the sides.
Chase followed me, footstep by footstep. “So people get to pay to help you with chores? That’s brilliant.”
I shot a glare back at him. “And enjoy their own luxurious bedroom suites, and homemade meals, and fresh cookies every night while they watch the sunset from the back deck. Which I’m planning to have expanded by two hundred square feet at least.”
Chase met me with a raised brow when we made it to the front door.
“I’m selling an experience, a reprieve from the noise and hustle of urban life.”
“What says reprieve more than scrubbing out water troughs and wrestling hay bales in the dead of summer?” When I went to shove his chest, his hands wound around my wrists. “I’m messing with you. I think it’s a great idea. Knowing you and what you’ll put together here, you’ll probably have a waitlist a solid year out.”
I studied his expression, looking for a crack of sarcasm.
“I’m being serious. I can totally see it,” he continued.
Satisfied, I opened the door and led him inside.
Chase gave a low whistle. “You are really going to need every last cent of that million, aren’t you?”
“It might need some work, but it’s got good bones.” When I tapped the newel-post at the bottom of the stairway leading to the second floor, it creaked as it wobbled.
Chase examined the foyer, zeroing in on one of the walls that had several large holes dotting it. “Yeah, some work ought to do it.”
I positioned myself inside the door, holding up my hand. “Just picture this. A family drives up the rustic, meandering driveway, greeted by the scent of fresh-cut hay and the sounds of the menagerie of farm animals coming from the barn.”
Chase moved toward the window I was pointing out. “What barn?”
“The one I’m going to have built.” I waved off whatever his next question was, continuing to paint my image. “This place has been restored by master artisans who know the importance of honoring tradition at the same time embracing modern advancements. Everything about the entrance is welcoming, inviting.” I motioned my arms as if I was inviting guests inside. “I’ll be here to greet them and show them to their room, letting them know they’re at home. The breakfasts will be hardy, the mattresses exactly the right balance of softness after a day of hard work, and the memories will be priceless.”
Chase ducked his head into one of the rooms down the hall. “You’ll be in the master bedroom?”
“That will be the master suite. I’ll be taking one of the smaller rooms upstairs.”
His footsteps creaked as he passed through the house. “Show me.”
I made sure he was following my exact footsteps again as we traversed the staircase. “You’ve been in it.” I skipped the next stair. “It’s got the really good view to the north.”
“Is this the one with the creepy closet that was a really good place to hide in? Or the room with the old light fixture that looked like a deformed mushroom?”
I led the way down the hall once we’d made it to the second floor. “It’s the one with the good view.”
“Yeah. I don’t remember that one.”
We passed by a long line of rooms before stopping outside of the one at the end of the hall.
I pushed the door the rest of the way open, breathing a sigh of relief when the door didn’t fall off the hinges the way it sounded it might. “It also happens to be the smallest room in the house.”
When Chase stepped inside, he did a slow spin. “I thought this was a big closet or something. I didn’t realize it was a bedroom.”
I bounded toward the window and gently worked up the old blind. “But it’s got the best view in the house.” I wiggled open the window as far as it would go.
The floor whined as Chase crossed the room toward me. Cool summer air filtered into the room, chasing away the smell of must and making the cobwebs tremble.
“Hey, if you’re forced to sleep on a double bed for the rest of your life, at least you’ve got a window with a view.” He stopped beside me, gazing out at the glow of the wheat fields glittering beneath a waxing moon.
“A double bed is more than enough room for me.”
“Maybe for only you.”
I angled toward him. “Implying what?”
“Implying there’s not going to be any room for anyone else.” He gestured at the empty room as though it already held a bed.
“Assuming I have plans of there being anyone else,” I replied, waving at the same spot.
“Anticipating you do, and hinting at the fact that double beds weren’t created with his manly size in mind.” His eyes gleamed at me, waiting for me to give him hell for hinting at anything future related where we were concerned.
I flattened my hand against his chest, holding him at an arm’s length. “And I’d remind him that he’s never let space, size, or time limitations stop him before.”
“He’d agree with that statement. And feel it is his responsibility to prove that point.”
“You’ve proven that point hundreds of times.” My head tipped at him. “Maybe thousands.”
“Make this thousands and one.” Chase’s eyes moved down me, stopping at a certain spot. “Take off your panties.”
His lack of apology or request in his tone was more of a turn-on than it should have been.
My hands slipped beneath my dress, fingers tangling under the sides of my underwear. “Say please.”
“If it was a request, I would have worded it that way. But it wasn’t.” Chase’s eyes narrowed when he noticed me stop working off my underwear. “You don’t cap an order with a please.”
“Damn,” I rumbled, giving one last tug that sent my underwear to my ankles. “Someone’s in a mood.”
His jaw ground as he stared at the rumple of cotton circling my ankles. “Take off the rest.”
“Chase, seriously.” Both hands went to my hips instead of working to free me of my dress as he’d instructed. Or ordered. “This assertive bullshit doesn’t do it for me.”
Saying nothing, he closed the distance between us in two long strides, holding my eyes to his. His hand dove under my dress. When I jolted, his other hand plastered to my back, holding me in place, as he pushed two fingers inside me.
This time when I jolted, my body bucked against his, bowing as he moved deeper. “Your mouth is saying one thing”—he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it—“and your pussy is telling me so
mething else.” Slipping his fingers from me, he lifted them in front of me, all glistening and wet.
A breathy sound slipped from my lips without my consent. The predator inside him rose, reflecting back at me in his pupils.
“Now,” he gritted, releasing me all at once before taking a few steps back. “Take off the rest.”
My hands moved of their own accord, yanking the straps down my shoulders and tugging the dress when it fought the challenge of my chest. Chase watched, grabbing himself through his jeans when my chest bounced free of the dress.
Stepping out of my panties and dress at the same time, I lifted my hands. “What do you want me to do next, bossy? The damn Hokey Pokey?”
He rubbed his chin, his eyes a dizzying polish of want and control. “By all means, please do. But when you turn yourself around, make sure it’s followed by dropping to your hands and knees.”
My thighs squeezed at his words, from the look on his face as he said them. I wasn’t sure I’d ever wanted Chase as badly as I did right now. Slipping out of my sandals as I turned around, I stared out the window as I lowered to my knees. I’d spent plenty of hours staring out this window, all types of weather and hours of the day, but never like this.
The sound of him approaching caused millions of bumps to rise on my skin. The roughness of his jeans rubbing against my legs had my head swimming. The sound of his zipper lowering sent every muscle contracting.
There was no warning, adjusting, or bracing, there was only one moment he wasn’t inside me, and the next, he was. My cry spilled out into the night, scattering across the wheat like a faint breeze.
Chase’s fingers tunneled into my hips, drawing me into him until he could claim no more of my body. When he leaned over me, his mouth settled behind my ear. One hand dropped to where our bodies were joined, circling the junction before drawing a wet line up my stomach.
“I can tell how much you don’t like me ordering you around.” He flicked one of my nipples in a way that made sounds of desire and discomfort fall from my mouth. “How much it bothers you when I tell you to get your ass up in the air and moan my name like a filthy little nympho.”
He only had to grind inside me once more to set loose my orgasm. The sheer surprise of it made it that much stronger, my whole body going slack as pleasure raked through me, flooding every nerve ending and muscle fiber.
Chase’s arm wound beneath my hips, holding me from collapsing to the floor as he battered into me, finding his own release when my body spasmed at the end of my own.
We remained connected as we fought to catch our breaths, the sweat coating my back cooling in the night air. The remnants of our lovemaking was trickling down my thighs, pooling onto the weathered boards below us. My knees and hands felt rubbed raw, the rest of me in some state of sore or weak, but I’d never felt more alive than I did right then.
Having just made love, having just fucked, inside the room that would one day be mine if all went according to plan, gazing out at the land I loved.
“Fuck me.” Chase breathed raggedly, going from looking out the window to down at me. “This room really does come with the best view.”
13
“Two nights. No promises. No professions.” Chase’s arm tightened around me. “Or something like that.”
“I can actually tell when you’re mocking me,” I replied, waiting in the limo with him while his security cleared the sidewalk. “And it worked, didn’t it? Taking it one day at a time, staying in the present instead of looking to the future or getting stuck in the past?”
“It did work.” Chase stepped outside once we had the okay, holding out his hand for me as I climbed out after him. “But tomorrow night’s the last leg of the tour. Eventually, we’re going to have to bridge the topic of the future.”
My finger flattened against his lips as we whisked across the dark sidewalk. “There is no future. Only this very moment.”
Chase held out his fist to bump Pete’s as we passed him holding the unmarked door open for us. “For a country girl, you make a convincing Buddhist monk.”
“I’m serious though. No future talk or else.”
His eyes flashed. “Or else what?”
“Or else should be all the threat that’s required. Let your imagination fill in the rest.” The sound of my heels connecting with the concrete echoed through the long hallway. “Why are we taking the back way into this place, by the way? It’s not like your presence is going to remain a mystery for long.”
His shoulders moved beneath his close-fitting shirt. “Yeah, but it might remain a mystery for an extra five minutes it wouldn’t have if we’d strolled through the main doors.”
The sound of music and people was already hitting me from halfway down the hall. I could almost feel the beat of the drum vibrating the floor. “And what possessed you to visit one of Nashville’s biggest honky-tonks the night before you play a sold-out home crowd?”
Chase smiled. “Tradition.”
“Tradition?”
“At the end of every tour, we come here as a celebration that we survived. It’s my way of thanking the staff for working so hard.”
We paused at the next door, waiting for the okay from the guard stationed there. From the sound of things, the place was packed and the acoustics were made to amplify.
“You bring your people to a packed, noisy honky-tonk as a way to show your undying thanks?” I blinked at him.
One corner of his mouth pulled up. “Yeah?”
I sighed. “I hope you at least pick up the tab.”
“Of course.” He rubbed his mouth. “Up to two drinks.”
Pete slid in front of us and moved through the door first, leading us into the joint. We were spit out into some quiet-ish corner of the club, the mass of people and noise coming from across the room.
I’d been to plenty of country bars, but none like this. Country in Nashville was different than country in Tulsa. Or anywhere else for that matter, I guessed. Here, the glitz meter was off the charts. People were still sporting boots and belt buckles, but they were so shiny they could have been picked up by a satellite. Even the music being played by the band up front was a little different. Country, but right where it blurred the lines with rock n’ roll.
“This place is insane.” I had to shout at Chase as Pete continued to weave us through a maze of tables.
“It’s early. And a weeknight.” Chase kept his head slightly tipped down, just enough to keep any casual onlookers from potentially recognizing him.
“I don’t want to imagine.” I glanced at the packed dance floor, the bar area spilling over with bodies. “You like this place?”
He scooted me closer to him when we wove through the crowd circled around a long line of pool tables. “The staff does.”
“You’re going to get mobbed if you’re recognized.” I eyed the table of women we were passing.
A sound rumbled in Pete’s gut. “Not when I’m around.”
“That’s why I’ve got the best security in show business.” Chase thumped Pete’s chest and it practically sounded like a gong. “And we always rent a private VIP room to keep the mobs from mobbing.” He slid aside a thick curtain, gesturing me inside the hidden room.
“Okay, this is not a honky-tonk, Chase Lawson, and you know it.” I gaped at the private room that dripped extravagance. And yeah, there might have been a country motif . . . if a person could see past the crystal wall sconces and studded leather furniture.
“Maybe to a couple of Oklahoma kids, but it is for a bunch of people from Nashville.” Chase waved at everyone in the room.
They’d started clapping when he appeared. For a few dozen people, they could make one hell of a raucous.
His drummer, Lane, handed him a bottle of sparkling water and me my favorite kind of beer. “Speech!”
Chase tried waving off the chant that followed, but he gave in when he must have realized that they weren’t going to give up. “It seems by now you all should be tired of hearing me
run my mouth, so I’ll keep it short and sweet.” He held up his sparkling water as he cut into the center of the room. “I’m one person who knows his way around a guitar and can carry a tune most days of the week. It’s because of you I am where I am today. Cheers to your skills at fooling America into thinking I’m kinda a big deal.”
A parade of drinks launched into the air followed by a roar of an echo, bottles clinking glasses, cans cracking cups.
“Now go open your presents already!” Chase pointed at a table in the back, where rows of silver gift bags were propped.
A mad dash nearly ensued. Pete broke character by behaving more like a preschooler on his birthday than a fully-grown man who knocked skulls for a living.
Chase headed my way and touched his bottle to mine. “Thank you for believing in me. Always.”
“You made it.” I took a sip of my beer, motioning between him and the room. “Not sure you’d feel the same gratitude if you were still submitting samples and playing originals on sidewalk corners.”
He brushed a strand of hair back from my face. “I would.”
“We’ll never know.”
“You might not. But I do,” he replied.
A chorus of shrieks and whoops grew from the table as members of his staff tore into their bags. I wasn’t sure I’d seen so many adults behave like they’d won the lottery at the same time.
“What in the world’s in those bags? A one-way ticket to Santa’s workshop?” My mouth fell open when I saw Dani actually jumping as she clutched some paper certificate in her hands.
Chase winked at his staff hollering gratitude and disbelief in equal measure. “Bonus checks,” he answered me, grinning as he watched everyone’s reactions. “And I always send everyone and their family on a nice vacation the day after the tour ends.”
“Like they all go to Hawaii or the Caribbean?” I asked, watching Pete chatter excitedly to someone on his phone.
“We all spent the last six months together. I figure the last thing anyone wants to do is spend any more time together.” Chase took my hand and led me to a leather couch, the kind that looked worn but had probably cost thousands of dollars to create the effect. “They go by themselves or with their families.”
Fool Me Once Page 13