He pulls up to the valet stand. “That’s gracious of you. She being the ex and all.”
I’m not threatened by Jenna. Not even slightly. In fact, this whole ordeal she’s manufactured just makes me feel sorry for her. She fell for him, but his heart was never really free to be fallen for. Poor Jenna never stood a chance.
I tap my fingers on the center console. “Remember when Chase got that snake when we were eight?”
Pat shudders. “Yes. I hated that thing. Thank God it was a short-lived fascination.”
“When he had to feed it, he’d drop in a live mouse, and the snake would play with it for a while before going in for the kill. Well, Jenna’s the mouse, and she doesn’t even realize it. The press will bat her around for a bit, but just when she thinks she can’t take any more, they’ll eat her alive. I feel bad for her.”
The valet opens my door, and I step onto the red carpet. Pat quickly takes my arm, and we pose for a few pictures.
“Remember,” he says as we walk into the building, “I’m only late because of you. You’re totally taking the fall for me, right?” He holds out his fist for me to bump.
I touch my fist to his. “You owe me.”
He scoffs. “As if I could deny you anything. You know that out of the three of you kids, you’re the only one I can’t say no to.”
I hook my arm through his. “We’ll see about that. One of these days, I’m going to collect, and you’d better be ready.”
Pat guides me through the marble foyer, through glass French doors, then out to the terrace. It’s a shame it’s so late in the evening. During the day, the terrace overlooks the rolling hills of the vineyard, but this late at night, all I can see is darkness. Considering how much Chase must be paying for this place, he’s getting gypped. Even with the missing view, the venue looks spectacular. Katie really outdid herself. Lattices border the terrace and are strung with little white lights and Chinese lanterns. Round tables topped with beautiful floral arrangements surround the dance floor and stage. A twelve-piece band plays Sinatra, and the dance floor is packed. I scan the sea of people, looking for Chase.
Pat takes my hand. “I see a few people who will be very excited to see you.”
Pat leads me through the crowd. I spot Katie and Charlie holding iPads and talking to staff members. Katie catches a glimpse of us out of the corner of her eye and dismisses the staff.
Pat holds up our hands. “Look who I found.”
Katie pushes her husband out of the way and hugs me. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
“It’s good to be back.”
She pulls away. “I want to hear all about it, but there’s some sort of valet catastrophe I have to take care of. I’ll find you later”
Charlie shoves her iPad into the chest of the server she was talking too, then she rushes over to me. The look on her face reminds me of the look my mother gave me when I dropped all of her jewelry in the pool to see how much the diamonds sparkled under water. I’m in some serious trouble.
“Where the fuck have you been?” she shrieks.
I pull her into a hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”
She pulls back. Her jaw drops as she looks down her nose at me. “Um. You know where I’ve been the last two weeks. You, on the other hand, pulled an Amelia Earhart and vanished without a trace. Where did you go?”
Wincing, I reply, “I’m so sorry. I know you all must have been so worried. It was a typical Henrik trip. You know what those are like.”
She smiles. “Ah. No plan. No phone. No toilet paper. Plenty of communicable diseases.”
“Exactly. One of my planes was literally held together with duct tape and bubble gum. I promise I’ll tell you all about it, but first, do you know where your brother is?”
Folding her arms across her chest, she scowls. “I see how it is. You two are together, and I get cast aside like yesterday’s garbage.”
“Come on, you know it’s not like that.” I look at her through narrowed eyes. “If you hadn’t seen Spencer in two weeks, you wouldn’t have even paused to talk to me. In fact, if I were standing in the way, you’d have pushed me down and walked over me if it meant getting to him faster.”
“Yeah, probably.” She releases a dreamy sigh. “What can I say? I love that man.” She turns my shoulders toward the bar. “My guess is he’s over there crying in his bourbon.” She slaps my ass. “Go get ‘em, tiger. He’s been a freaking trainwreck since you left, and you’re the only one who can cheer him up.” She starts to walk away then pauses and turns around. “Wow, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. I know in my heart you two are meant for each other. I can feel it. But it’s still so weird sometimes.”
“Get used to it,” I say over my shoulder as I walk toward the bar.
As I cross the crowded room, panic seeps into my chest. What if history repeats itself? How many times were we out of touch for a few days, then he flew off the handle and accused me of cheating on him? I’ve been gone for two weeks with my ex-fiancé. There’s no way in hell Chase is going to believe that nothing happened. The spark we’ve rekindled is so good I’m not ready for it to be snuffed out by something so petty. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Not here anyway. If I leave now, I’m sure Pat will relay my story. By the time we talk, Chase’ll be reasonable.
I’m about to turn around and get a cab when I see him sitting at the end of the bar, hunched over his glass. Just one look at him, and the panic quells. Even if he does lash out, I’d rather be fighting with him than spending one more second away from him.
I push my way through the line of people waiting for drinks and tap his shoulder. “Is this seat taken?” Just as I start to speak, the song ends and the room breaks out into applause. I’m not sure if he heard me.
“Taken,” he grumbles without looking up. Maybe he heard me but couldn’t hear my voice well enough to recognize it.
When the applause dies down, I tap him again. “Are you sure? It looks pretty empty to me.”
With a scowl, he looks over his shoulder. Gasping, his eyes go wide and his jaw drops. He spins around on his stool, jumps up, and pulls me into his arms. “Oh, thank God. I was just sitting here thinking about how much I missed you, how much better this night would be if you were with me, and here you are.”
I pull away so I can look in his eyes. “Chase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to call or text, I—”
“Shhh, you can tell me later. I’m just so happy you’re home.” His expression becomes serious as he drops his chin. “You are home, right?”
“I’m wherever you are. That’s home to me.”
A smile breaks out across his face as he puts one hand on either side of my face and pulls him toward him. “Welcome home.” He leans in to kiss me, but I pull back.
“I thought we decided not to go public yet.”
“While you were gone, it was like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It’s like my whole life came to a standstill. That’s never happened with us before. We were always apart more than we were together. It was hard, but nothing like this. Everything’s different this time, and I refuse to waste another day pretending I don’t love you. If I’ve learned anything from this whole experience, it’s that I want you by my side. I need you by my side, and I don’t give a flying fuck if anyone has a problem with it because I love you. Life’s just too short to throw days away because we might stir up a commotion. I love you, and I’ll scream it from the rooftops. If people want to talk, well, let them talk.”
He leans forward. This isn’t the time or place. For Christ’s sake, this was supposed to be his wedding! We can’t do this here. I try to step back, but he pulls me closer.
The second his lips touch mine, I forget why I’m fighting him. Why I’ve been fighting us. His soft lips caress mine, and I feel a surge of energy shoot through me. No, energy isn’t the right word. It’s as though I was given a jolt of positive chi, and instantly everything feels right in the world. From the tips of my toes
to top of my head, I feel it. This is where I belong.
He pulls away and smiles. “I was sure you were going to slap me or something. I know how you feel about PDA.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Let ‘em talk.”
I press my lips against his and savor every sensation. The smoky taste of bourbon on his lips. The silky way his hair slides through my fingers. The smell of his cologne. The strong feel of his hands on the small of my back. The way his tongue slides against mine. I make an imprint of this moment in my mind. This is the moment when everything changes, and I want to remember every second of it.
Chapter Fourteen
Arianna
Chase pulls away. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“What? Why?”
He scans the room. “Because in about two minutes, someone will come over and steal you, and then I won’t get you back for the rest of the night, and… I’m fucking selfish. I don’t want to share you. I’ve spent too many years sharing you. For the next few days, I want you all to myself. No cells, no emails, no contact with the outside world. Just you and me.”
“Trust me, I love the sound of that. But it’s your fundraiser. Don’t you need to stay and give a thank-you speech?”
He puts one hand on each side of my face. “You’re not listening. I don’t care about anything other than you and me. Nothing else matters.”
Looking around the room, I see at least a dozen people I should talk to: the mayor, the owner of the 49ers, the CEO of Nike. All people who will want to offer me their condolences. The appropriate thing is to stay and be social.
But right now, I have no desire to be appropriate. “Let’s go.”
Without pausing to speak to anyone, Chase leads me through the room. Heads turn to do a double take as we walk by. It’s the first time we’ve been seen hand-in-hand, and it feels unbelievably right. We walk as quickly as we can without making a scene to the valet, who calls one of the waiting limos. We ask for the smallest one, wanting to leave the larger limos for the other guests.
“Where are we going?” Chase asks as we slide into the backseat. “My place? Yours?”
My first thought is a hotel, since we could find one nearby, but I don’t want to be in an ambiguous space, worried about things the neighbors may hear and who we may run into in the hall. Running to a hotel will make me feel as though this is just another stop on our on-again-off-again train. I don’t want that. This feels real this time, and I want it to stay that way. We need to go to home.
“Mine’s closer,” I reply.
“Closer’s good,” he says with a wink. “Plus, I like your place. Lots of good memories there.” When the driver returns, Chase gives him my address then pushes the button for the privacy glass, but nothing happens.
“Sorry, sir,” the driver says, glancing over his shoulder. “The button is broken. I apologize for the inconvenience. But don’t mind me. Just pretend I’m not here. I won’t bother you a bit.”
Chase opens his mouth to say something to me, and just as he does, the driver starts humming “Yellow Submarine” by the Beatles. Loudly. Chase and I look at each other and chuckle.
“So I was thinking,” I say quietly when I get my giggles under control, “maybe we should—”
“Did you know that right before Prohibition, eighty percent of the crops in Napa Valley died from phylloxera?” the driver says.
Chase and I glance at each other. Is he talking to us?
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry?”
“Root louse,” he explains. “It wiped out almost everything. When Prohibition hit, everyone packed up and abandoned the whole valley.”
“That’s… interesting,” I reply, not knowing exactly what to say.
He continues, telling us every historical fact we never wanted to know about Napa. When we get closer to the bridge, I hope this tour will finally come to an end, but apparently he knows more about the history of San Francisco than he does about Napa. Well how ‘bout that—aren’t we lucky. As much as I’d like to, I’m far too polite to ignore the man, so I respond enough so I don’t seem rude but hopefully not enough to encourage him.
A devilish smirk spreads across Chase’s face. It’s the same look he got when we were little and he was about to something devious. Typically, I was his victim. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “If I could put up the privacy screen, I’d pull your panties down with my teeth. Then I’d spread your legs and eat your pussy until you scream.”
My cheeks burn as I feel a blush creep across my cheeks.
The rest of the ride is torturous. Chase continues to whisper all the dirty things he wants to do to me while our driver tells me about Gaspar de Portola’s “Sacred Expedition” into Northern California. I struggle to keep my composure, and Chase is enjoying every second of making me squirm. The ride has become a game of wills, and he’ll stop at nothing to get me to react. If football doesn’t pan out, he could have a real future as an erotica writer. A few hours ago, I would have predicted that I’d be lucky not to pass out on my feet by midnight, but after listening to all his naughty plans, I’m suddenly getting a second wind.
Every once in a while, Chase tries to take the game to another level by sliding his hand up my leg, under my dress. As if he knows what’s going on, the driver will look over his shoulder at me and crack some lame joke. Every damn time! The moment I see the driver’s head start to swivel, I snap my legs closed tight. As tempting as Chase is, I’d rather not be all over tomorrow’s tabloids because I was caught messing around in the back of a Towncar. My father would roll over in his grave.
After taking the long way through the city so he can tell me about the history of the financial district, our limo finally arrives at my building.
George, my doorman, opens the door for us as Chase slips a tip to the driver. "Thanks for the ride," he says. "That was fun."
George closes the car door then rushes to open the door to the building for us. “Mr. Brennan. Ms. Aldrich, wonderful to see you again."
Chase whispers in my ear, "I think we should stop and catch up with George.” He nods toward the front windows that face Market Street, bustling even at this time in the evening. “I can tell you all of the things I would do to you up against those windows, for the whole city to see, while he tells us about his twelve cats. It’s so much fun making you blush."
I whisper back, “Do you want to stand around talking about it, or would you rather go upstairs and make it a reality?”
He grabs my hand. "Have a good night, George."
I’ve been polite and proper for the last hour, and I can’t do it a second longer. I need to feel him against me. The moment the elevator doors close, my lips are on him, frenzied and desperate as though this kiss is paramount to my very survival. His tongue slides against mine, and it sends my desire into overdrive. Desperate to feel him against me, I push him back against the wall of the car. He cups my ass and pulls me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around him.
The elevator dings, and we jump apart. The doors open, and cranky old Mrs. Kravitz from the third floor stands there in her robe and swim cap, holding her towel. She glances back and forth between Chase, with lipstick smeared all over his face, and me, with my dress partially unzipped and wearing one shoe. My other must have fallen off when I mounted Chase. I saved myself humiliation in the Towncar but threw it all away twelve floors from my condo. Brilliant, Arianna, just brilliant.
Despite the mortifying circumstances, Chase just smiles. "Evening, ma'am, going up to the pool?"
She stares at us as though we’ve offended her delicate sensibilities. With a huff, she steps into the elevator then stumbles over my shoe.
Chase catches her before she falls, helps her to her feet, then picks up my Manolo. “Oh look, honey, I think you dropped this.”
With a naughty smirk, Chase hands me my shoe. I want to smack him with it, but I step toward the rear of the car to avoid her venomous scowl instead. The three of us stand in awkward silence as
the elevator ascends. Fortuitously, or maybe God just has a twisted sense of humor, “Let's Get It On” comes on the satellite radio playing in the elevator. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. There's a nasty letter from the condo board in my future, I can feel it.
When the elevator stops on my floor, Chase grabs my hand. "Enjoy your swim, Mrs. Kravitz," he says as he yanks me out of the car.
My remaining heel gets caught on the gap between the elevator and the floor, and my ankle twists a little. Losing my shoe, I stumble into Chase’s arms as the elevator doors close behind us. I look at him as he helps me regain my balance, and we burst into laughter.
Listening to his laugh and seeing his smile, my breath hitches. His hair’s a mess from my fingers running through it during our mini-make-out session, his bow tie’s loose around his neck, his shirt is half pulled out, and he still has lipstick smeared all over him, but he’s so damn sexy. Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other for so long, but sometimes I forget how gorgeous he is. I imagine it’s like this for people who own a Monet or Renoir—you become so accustomed to seeing it every day that you forget to appreciate the masterpiece it is. But tonight, as he looks down at me, I’m amazed I do anything but stare at him. Those full lips just beg to be kissed. The subtle scruff along his strong jaw beseeches me to touch it. When he looks at me as though I’m the only thing in the world he sees, I’m not sure if I’m falling further in love or just seriously turned on. Maybe a little of both.
His smile fades as he wets his lips slightly, and all the heat that had been extinguished by our judgy elevator companion comes flooding back. Between two weeks apart, an hour of teasing in the car, then that hot and steamy minute in the elevator, my will power is decimated. I can’t hold back. Grabbing his lapels, I pull him toward me, and our lips crash together. While kissing Chase is typically like a tango, sensual and seductive, this is more like jumping into a mosh pit—savage and raw with a strong likelihood someone’ll walk away a little black and blue. It may not be pretty, but right now, I’m not interested in pretty. I just want him.
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