His hand left her breast to work at her pants, unsnapping, unzipping, stripping them down her hips, dragging her thin panties with them while he kept licking and sucking at her nipple. Suddenly she was laid out naked on his desk, her legs dangling over the edge. She felt like the sexy secretary in some hot romance novel, letting the boss have his way with her on lunch break.
But he wasn’t the boss. She didn’t have a boss, not when it came to this. She reached up and tugged at his shirt, undoing the buttons and sliding the fabric off his shoulders so she could run her palms over his skin. He bent down and kissed her, his hand skimming down her belly until his fingers touched the warm, wet heart of her and he dipped one inside. His finger slid over the tender, slick skin, the rough touch rocketing through her like a flame burning up a fuse. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat, from her throat to her breasts, his tongue flicking and swirling over her skin while his finger slid inside her and out again, and she decided to let him be the boss, just for a little while, because being naked and willing and helpless and his just felt so good, so dirty and slutty and deliciously, fantastically right.
She closed her eyes and heard the chair skid across the floor as he dropped into it and pulled close, letting her rest her feet on the arms while he focused on the business of pleasing her, his fingers opening and exploring while his tongue licked and probed. She could feel tension rising inside her, spiraling up and up, making her clench her muscles tighter, tighter, impossibly tight—and then he raised one hand to her breast and squeezed. She came in a sudden explosion that made her lift her hips off the desktop and cry out, her hands clutching his hair to pull him away before the spiral spun into space. One more touch of his tongue and she’d die, right there, of pleasure and passion and need.
She opened her eyes to see him watching her, his gaze skimming her body before his eyes met hers. He held her with his gaze, pinning her down without touching her while he stripped off his clothes with the quickness and efficiency of an athlete. He had the body of an athlete too, long and lean and muscled, the ridges of his ribs relaxing into the rippled muscles of his stomach. He bent over her, putting his hands on either side of her while she lifted her hips to meet him. He slid inside her, just a bit, and his gaze sharpened with a question, waiting for her to nod ever so slightly before he did it again.
This was the part where Trent would close his eyes and lose himself in some internal world, while she’d stare up at the ceiling and wait for him to take his pleasure, but Chase’s eyes never left hers, cautious and questioning until she nodded hard, twice, and he didn’t stop watching her until she came again. Then he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and she sensed the fireworks inside him, the snapping and popping of flame hitting powder as he strained into her and groaned.
She didn’t realize she’d closed her own eyes until she opened them and saw him looking down at her. The shield was still down, but what it revealed now wasn’t need but tenderness. He eased his hands behind her shoulders and helped her sit up, holding her to him while their breath slowed and their hearts stuttered and started again. She could feel his beating behind his chest, thumping steadily against her cheek, and she knew that beat had held steady for all the years she’d been gone and it always would.
She prayed he wouldn’t speak and break the fragile silence in the room. She couldn’t put words to what had happened, couldn’t define her feelings in conscious thought. Their relationship had changed, but only for her, and only because she had a new sense of the importance of it. Whatever she did, wherever she went, a part of Chase would go with her.
She remembered the thoughts she’d had before she stepped out of the hotel room into the rainy night and dashed over here. She’d be leaving soon. She had to.
She wondered how much she’d miss the part of her heart she’d leave with him.
Chapter 22
When Chase stepped inside the trailer the next morning, the air was still alive with Lacey’s presence, shimmering with the promise of the night before. They hadn’t spoken when they parted. They’d barely spoken the whole time they’d been alone together. He stared out at the street, wondering if she’d tossed and turned and relived every moment of their union the way he had.
The way she’d gathered up her clothes and held him for a heartbeat before she stepped out the door had felt somehow final, as if she’d made up her mind to leave. He’d made up his mind too—he’d accept her decision. What he and Lacey had wasn’t something either of them could control. It was just there, and it always would be.
Wherever she went, a part of him would be with her.
The phone rang, shattering the silence, and he stepped over and picked it up, hoping it was her.
He dropped the receiver, then bobbled it twice before he managed to jam it under his jawline.
“Hey.” Casual, yet welcoming. Warm, but not so warm that it made rash assumptions. “Hey” wouldn’t scare her away.
He hoped.
But the voice on the line wasn’t Lacey. It was a man—a man with a gravelly voice and a distinct Southern twang he was clearly trying to cover up with some kind of fake English accent.
“Hello. Could I speak to Lacey, please?”
Lacey?
“Uh, no. She’s—not here.”
“Can you tell me when she’ll be in?”
Chase wished he knew the answer to that himself.
“No, I, uh…” Damn. He sounded like a true professional.
“She works there, right?”
Chase pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Had Lacey been so sure of her reception from Chase that she’d told someone she had a job here? She must have known he’d jump through hoops for her in the end, just like he had when he was a kid. And she’d been right. It might have taken him a while to come around, but at this point, she could set the hoop on fire and hang it from the ceiling. He’d get through it somehow.
“No.” He tried to hide the note of regret in his voice. “She doesn’t work here.”
“But you know her, right?”
Chase felt a sudden surge of dread. He was pretty sure Lacey hadn’t told anyone she was coming to Grady. That had been the whole point, after all—that nobody would look for her here.
But someone was. And he’d almost given her away.
“Who were you looking for again?” he asked.
“Lacey Bradford,” the voice said. “Pretty lady, brown hair, nice tits?”
Chase resisted the impulse to respond to the coarse description. That wasn’t how he’d describe Lacey. Her smile, that’s what he always noticed. Her eyes. Although…
He set his mind back on track and spoke into the phone. Maybe if he played his part well enough, he could convince the caller he hadn’t known who he was talking about.
“Nice tits, huh? I’d remember that.” He huffed out a coarse laugh. “Haven’t seen her. Wish I had, buddy.”
“She might be calling herself Lacey Keene. You sure she doesn’t work there? This is the address I—the address she gave me. Maybe you just didn’t meet her yet. She would have started in the last week or so.”
“Nobody works here by that name,” Chase said. “I’m the owner.”
“Caldwell?”
He knew that voice. Was it Trent himself? He’d thought the guy had more class than to talk about a woman’s breasts, but maybe he was playing a part. He clenched the phone in his fist as if he could strangle the caller via long distance.
“Who is this?” he asked. “Do I know you?”
“No.” The denial was a little too loud. He did know this guy. He strained to catch the nuances of the voice and find something familiar. “This is her—her boyfriend. She left her husband, and I just want to find her and take care of her.” The caller was trying to sound compassionate, but what kind of boyfriend talks about his girlfriend’s breasts to strangers? And was it Chase’s imagination, or did the phrase “take care of her” have ominous undertones?
“Maybe you migh
t have seen her around.”
“Nope,” Chase said. “Like I said, I’d have noticed if a new set rolled into town.” He sniggered out the nasty laugh again, playing his own part. “Haven’t seen her. I’ll be glad to call you if I do, though.” He glanced up at the old-fashioned phone hanging on the wall. He’d been meaning to get Caller ID. It would help him get back to customers who called with questions about a car, but he’d never gotten around to it. “You want to give me your number?”
There was a click, and the line went dead. Chase set the receiver gently in the cradle. Somebody was looking for Lacey. Somebody knew she was here.
And he was pretty sure it was Wade Simpson.
Grabbing his keys from the counter, he slammed the door behind him without locking it and sprinted across the street, taking the steps to the motel balcony two at a time.
***
Lacey was brushing her hair when someone knocked on the motel room door. The sound was soft, slow, and eerily reminiscent of Wade tapping on her door back home. She’d woken with light swirling inside her from the night before, but now dread closed in like darkness.
“Lacey.” The voice was a harsh whisper. “Lacey, I need to talk to you.”
She lifted her head and almost laughed. It was Chase. He couldn’t wait to see her. She put the brush down and headed for the door, popping up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole. He was standing with his hat in his hand, shifting from one foot to the other like a kid on his first date, but his expression was somber.
“It’s important, Lacey. I got a phone call. A call for you.”
“But nobody knows I’m here.” She swallowed a bolt of panic and opened the door, glancing left and right, the sweet warmth of the night before chilling to a feeling of being hunted. “Come in.”
“You’d better sit down,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her toward the bed.
Bad idea. Her head and heart were already humming with just the awareness of where they were: a motel room. With a bed. Just one small step, one moment of weakness…
“No.” She shook him off. “Tell me about the phone call.”
“It was a man, asking for you.”
“A man?”
“He wouldn’t say who he was. But he asked for Lacey Bradford. I think it was Wade.”
She bit her lip, looking up into his eyes. She was sure he was telling the truth. But how could Wade know she was here?
“He thought you worked for me. He didn’t seem to believe me when I said you didn’t. He said you’d given him my address.”
“I didn’t give anyone… oh. Shit.”
Chase’s eyes widened, and Lacey realized she’d sworn. She normally tried not to, because her English teacher in eighth grade had said it indicated a lack of imagination. He said there were always better ways to express yourself than using four-letter words.
“Shit-fuck-damn,” she said. There. That had twelve letters.
Chase’s eyes widened more. “What, Lacey? What’s wrong?”
“I did give somebody that address.”
“My address? Who?”
“I don’t know who.” She sighed. “I got a credit card. I signed up for it from a mailing that came to my house. It’s in my name only—not Trent’s, not Mrs. Lacey Bradford. Just Lacey Bradford. I never told Trent about it, and I figured nobody would know about it to trace it.”
“Lacey, all he had to do was get your credit report.”
“What’s a credit report?” She felt hot tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She was so stupid. She didn’t know anything. She’d figured that as long as they didn’t know she had an account with MagiCard, Trent’s former pals wouldn’t be able to trace it.
“A credit report tells what money you owe, and whether you’re current on your bills.”
“But I am current on it. The bill won’t even come for two weeks.” She looked down at the ground. “One week now. And I didn’t charge anything. I wasn’t going to leave the bill for you to pay or anything. I figured I’d have a place to live by then.”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re current or not. Your credit report tells what lines of credit you’ve opened. What cards you’ve applied for.”
“So just anybody can get this report and find out my private financial information?”
“Not anybody, but almost. A landlord. A bank. A car dealer.”
“A cop?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Shit.” She collapsed on the bed, covering her face with her hands. She had no car, no money, no place to go, and she couldn’t stay in Grady. She could run like a rabbit, off across the plains, but there was no hidey-hole out there for her. And if Wade didn’t find her, she’d die of sheer nervousness worrying about the possibility. “Now what am I going to do?”
“Well, you can’t stay in Grady.”
She was surprised at the anger, despair, and hopelessness she felt at the truth of that statement. She’d been in Grady less than a week, but she’d miss it more than she missed home. She had a friend here—a place in the world.
“But I can’t just leave,” she said. “There’s Annie. And Pam.” And you, she thought. You most of all.
“Lacey, I know.” He sat down beside her, and she leaned into him, wondering if he really did know. If he understood the words she’d left unspoken. “But you have to get out of town.” She felt the mattress shift as he settled beside her and his arm wrapped around her shoulder.
She knew she should shrug him off, but she needed him, just for a minute. She let herself tilt sideways, her head resting on the hollow below his shoulder. He turned his head so that his lips were inches from her hair. As he spoke, she could feel the warmth of his breath, the stirring of her hair as he said the words.
“Come home with me.”
She felt a surge of relief wash over her like a wave. She could go home with Chase. She could hide there, and he’d take care of her, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. She could just depend on Mr. Dependable, like she’d planned on in the first place.
Fighting the undertow, she floundered to the surface and shook off the urge. Going home with Chase wasn’t a solution. For one thing, they’d find her. They had the car lot address—it would only take them a quick hop, skip, and jump to find his house. And more important, she’d be breaking her promise to herself—the promise she’d made when Chase himself pointed out that she’d always depended on a man. Surely she could do better than that.
They had the address from the credit card, so it wouldn’t hurt to charge on it now, as long as she was leaving. She could get a cash advance and take off, head to Denver, get another cheap motel room, and find a job. She could disappear into the city. They’d never find her.
If only she had a way to get there. She glanced across the street at her Mustang, still parked in front of Chase’s trailer.
“Did Jeb ever look at my car?”
“Not yet.” Chase gave her a wry smile. “I think he was too busy screwing my sales associate.”
She sighed.
“Lacey, running isn’t the answer anyway. Where would you go? Come stay with me.”
“They’ll find your address.”
“The ranch doesn’t have an address. The deed’s not even registered to me.”
“I thought it was your ranch.”
“It is. But I registered it in the name of my corporation.”
“Which is?”
He flushed. “Princess LLC.”
“You named your corporation after your goat?”
“Hey, Princess meant a lot to me. You wouldn’t laugh if I named it after my dog.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” She giggled.
“But it’s not something anyone else would connect with me.”
She scanned him from head to foot—the tousled, sun-bleached hair, the rugged cheekbones and square jaw, the broad shoulders narrowing to slim hips—and she had to agree.
“No, you’ve got a point.” She couldn’t help s
miling. “You’re definitely no princess.”
Chapter 23
“Look, you can earn your keep if you want.” Chase held up both palms in a “stop” gesture before she could protest. “I don’t mean like that. You could actually work for me. I could give you a job. You know I fired Krystal, so I don’t have anyone to watch the lot anymore.”
“I can’t do that. That’s right where…”
“I know you can’t stay in town. But without Krystal to watch the store, I’ll have to spend more time at the lot, and I’m already away from the ranch too much. If you stay out there and do some chores for me, it would actually help a lot. I’ll pay you what I paid Krystal, but you can work there instead of in town.”
She shook her head. “Chase, I don’t know anything about ranching.”
“It’s not rocket science.” He tensed his hand on her thigh. “You’re smart, Lacey. You’ll catch on fast.”
She blinked. That comment meant way too much to her. She almost asked him to repeat it. That was pitiful.
She’d been confident once, so sure of herself. The top of the pyramid.
What had Trent done to her?
She looked down at Chase’s hand resting on her thigh. Didn’t he realize he was touching her? That slow warmth crept across her skin, moving upward from the spot where his hand lay.
“It’s hard work, but you might like it. You like horses?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I used to go to the racetrack with my dad.”
“Then you’ll be fine. And being alone at the ranch would beat being all alone on the road, with no money and a broken-down car.”
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