by J. Lynn
Megan Daniels sat beside Madison’s father in the large, domed room, and it was hard to believe that her mom was approaching her fifty-sixth birthday. There wasn’t a single gray hair in the mass of her auburn waves.
“Sit, honey.” She patted the seat next to her. “I saved you some cheesecake.”
Without being told twice, Madison took her place and dug in, listening to the flow of conversation around her as everyone else settled back around the long tables. Every once in a while, a cousin twice removed would appear and then some of Lissa’s family. Her parents seemed nice and got along with Madison’s.
Mr. Grant, Lissa’s father, even smiled when Madison’s dad launched into the next wave of generators that could keep a 1,200-square-foot bunker running.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “You know your father likes to talk shop.”
Yeah, but most people’s shoptalk didn’t revolve around an apocalypse.
With everyone occupied, she swiped the last two cookies off a platter and practically swallowed them whole. If this was considered “brunch”, Madison thought she might just have a new favourite meal.
“It was really nice of Chase to volunteer to pick you up, honey.” Her mom’s eyes twinkled. “He wasn’t even here for ten minutes, but he left right away to get you.”
Madison almost choked on the cookie. “Yeah, really nice of him.”
Her mom leaned in and lowered her voice. “You know, he’s still single.”
Clearing her throat, she was thankful Chase was nowhere near the table. “Good for him.”
“And you used to have the biggest crush on him. It was so cute.”
Madison’s mouth dropped open to deny it, but Mrs. Grant responded before she could say a word. “A crush on who?”
“Chase.” Her mother nodded sagely toward the front of the room. “She followed Mitch and him around like a—”
“Mom,” Madison groaned, wanting to hide under the table. “I did not follow them around like a puppy.”
Her mother just smiled.
“That is so sweet,” Mrs. Grant said, her gaze traveling up to where Chase and the rest of the men stood. “And he seems like a lovely young man. Mitch was telling us how he owns several nightclubs in the city.”
Mom launched into a detailed account of Chase’s successes, which were quite impressive. Within the last seven years, he’d started several profitable upscale bars, easily placing him as one of the most eligible bachelors in the District.
But her mother had glossed over Chase’s well-known playboy social life. Madison hadn’t been to any of his clubs since she was twenty-one, since that disastrous night when alcohol and several years of crushing on a guy came to an utterly humiliating head.
After taking a sip of water, she excused herself to check on her room reservation and strolled between the tables and out into the wide foyer on her way to the reservation desk. Once outside the breakfast area though, she realized she had company.
Chase fell into step beside her, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He was a good head and then some taller than her, and she always felt like a dwarf standing next to him.
She arched a brow at him, totally trying to play it cool even though her heart was pounding walking this close to him. “Following me?”
“Thought I’d change up the pattern.”
“Ha. Ha.”
He flashed a grin. “Actually, I was going to pick up my cabin key.”
“So am I.” Belle Vineyards had several cabins nestled across their estate, and they had reserved most of them for those attending the wedding scheduled for Saturday. She bit her lip, realizing she hadn’t thanked him yet. “Thank you for coming and getting me. You didn’t have to.”
Chase shrugged but said nothing. They wound their way through the elegantly designed hallways with exposed log walls and eventually arrived at the front desk.
An older man behind the counter with a nametag reading Bob smiled at them. “How can I help you?”
Chase leaned against the desk. “We’re here to pick up our room keys.”
“Oh, for the wedding?” His hands paused over the keyboard, ready to fly. “Congratulations.”
Madison choked back a laugh. “We aren’t. I mean, there’s no need for congratulations. He and I aren’t like that. We aren’t—”
“What she’s trying to say is that we’re not the bride and groom,” Chase replied evenly, smirking. God forbid anyone thought that. Geez. “We’re with the bridal party.”
Chase gave their names while Madison mentally kicked herself for sputtering like an inept teenager, but standing this close to him was more than distracting. His presence, his spicy scent that was part cologne and part male, had her senses firing left and right.
He always had to stand close. Like right now, there was barely an inch between their bodies. She could feel the natural heat that rolled off him and if she closed her eyes, she was pretty sure she could remember what it felt like to have his arm around her, cradling her to his hard chest as his hand skated under the hem of the dress she’d worn just for him, sliding up…
Madison pulled herself from the memory. So not going there.
“I’m sorry,” the clerk said, drawing her attention back to what was important. “There’s been an unfortunate mix-up.”
Suddenly, she remembered her father’s message. “Has something happened?”
The clerk’s cheeks turned ruddy. “We had another wedding party that ends on Friday, and, well, to put this bluntly, one of the part-time workers overbooked the cabins, which pushed out the last two reservations made.”
Which, of course, would’ve been Chase’s and Madison’s reservations, because if they had anything in common, they always did things last minute.
Chase frowned as he leaned a lot farther in. “Well, there’s got to be a fix.”
Swallowing visibly, he glanced at the computer. “I was under the impression that a Mrs. Daniels had already addressed this issue.”
Madison had a really bad feeling.
“We explained the problem upon her arrival. We only have one cabin available, the old honeymoon suite about to be remodeled.”
“Honeymoon suite?” Chase repeated slowly, as if those two words made no sense.
Her stomach dropped.
The clerk looked visibly uncomfortable. “Two people can definitely room there. Mrs. Daniels said it wouldn’t be a problem.”
She was going to kill her mother.
“I’m sorry.” Chase drew up straight, and at over six feet tall, that was a lot of looking up to do. His voice was firm. “We cannot share a cabin.”
Ouch. Sharing a room with Chase wasn’t on her list of things to do, but damn, she wasn’t the worse possible option.
“Money is not an issue,” he continued, eyes darkening to a navy blue—a sure sign his temper was about to make an appearance. “I can pay double or triple to get two rooms.”
Okay, now that was just insulting. She glared at him. “I agree. There’s no way I can stay with him.”
Chase cut her a look.
The clerk shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there are no other rooms available. It’s the old honeymoon cabin…or it’s nothing.”
Both of them stared at the clerk. Madison had a sinking suspicion Chase was about to grab the man, turn him upside down, and shake him until room keys fell out. She could get behind that.
“Rooms should become available Friday morning, and we will ensure both of you are first in line, but unfortunately, there isn’t anything I can do.”
Madison ran a hand over her hair, stunned. Rooming with Chase? There was no way. Between gawking at him in close proximity and wanting to beat him over the head when he opened his mouth, she was going to go insane.
The days leading up to the wedding were supposed to be fun and relaxing. Not a trip into crazy land. And her mom—her nutso, matchmaking mom—had a hand in this. She was going to bury that woman in a bomb shelter.
Madison peeked at th
e still-silent form of Chase. A muscle worked in his jaw like he was grinding his molars down to the gum. This was horrific for her, but for him? God, he was probably ready to make a bid for the clerk’s room. No doubt this would put a major crimp in his woman-seducing plans.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Chase twisted away, placing his hands on narrow hips. He swore under his breath. “All right, give me the damn keys.”
Madison flushed. “Look, I can—”
“You can what? Room with your mom, who’s on a second honeymoon with your dad? Or maybe you’d prefer to room with one of the other couples and ruin their romantic weekend?” A note attached to two keys dropped into his open palm. “Sleep in your car, even? We don’t have a choice.” His eyes met her wide ones. “We’re stuck with each other until Friday.”
Chapter Three
“Oh, man, you two are not going to make it to the wedding.” Mitch leaned back in his chair, eyes glittering with amusement. “No way.”
Madison sighed.
“Why?” her mother asked from the end of the table. “They’ll do just fine.”
“They’ll kill each other,” Mitch said with a laugh, and then he sobered. “They might actually kill each other.”
Turning her eyes to the glass ceiling, Madison struggled for patience. “We aren’t going to kill each other.”
“I wouldn’t make that promise,” Chase muttered, speaking for the first time since they’d left the front desk.
God, she was two seconds from jumping on his back like a monkey and strangling him. But then he strode off, glancing over his shoulder at her.
“This train is leaving for the cabin now if you want a ride.”
Trailing after him, she muttered, “Who hasn’t had a ride?”
Chase stopped dead in his tracks. “Excuse me?”
“I said”—she gave him a saucy smirk—“who hasn’t had a ride?”
He levelled her with a pointed look. “I can think of a few people.”
Wow. He went there. She refused to allow herself to blush again. “Bet you could count them on one hand, too.”
“Possibly,” he murmured and started walking again.
The trip to the cabin—all the way toward the edge of the property, near the thick walnut trees at the mouth of the Blue Ridge Mountains—was silent and awkward.
The moment she’d made the crack about his sex life, she’d regretted it. Saying things like that only reinforced his misguided belief that he was just like his father. It was the thing she never got about him. She knew deep down that becoming like his unfaithful father was Chase’s own personal nightmare, but he did nothing but barrel down that path with a different girl every week. She skirted around a thorny rose bush leaning into the path.
He’d been that way since high school—maybe not as bad as Chad, but Chase exemplified the playboy lifestyle.
And the fact that Chase was an equal opportunity bed jumper always stung, because he was open for business for everyone…everyone but her.
Outside the cabin, Chase held the key like it was a snake about to sink its fangs into his hand.
He hadn’t said a word on the way down. He was pissed; she knew it. What red-blooded single male came to a wedding and enjoyed getting stuck with their best friend’s little sister as their roommate? In an old honeymoon cabin on top of that?
Madison couldn’t believe it. She literally had the worst luck when it came to him.
She checked her cell phone and wanted to throw it. No service.
Finally, he opened the door and reached along the wall, flipping on the light. Her jaw dropped, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
This was a joke. It had to be. “Your brother has to be behind this,” she said.
Chase shook his head slowly. “If he is, I’m going to kill him.”
It was no wonder the clerk had said the room was scheduled for renovation. Clearly, someone had done a rush job cleaning the room. There was a faint smell of Lysol and potpourri that lingered in the spacy cabin, but the carpet…the bed.
Several throw rugs covered the wood flooring. They were every color of the rainbow, but one was a bear rug. An actual bear rug. The walls were painted a vibrant purple and red, and the bed…the bed draped in red velvet and heart-shaped.
Chase strolled into the room, dropping his keys on a white dresser that looked like something her grandmother would have in her house. He glanced over his shoulder, one brow arched.
Madison busted into laughter. She couldn’t help it. “It’s like a seventies love shack.”
A slow smile stretched across his lips. “I think I’ve seen this room in old-school porn videos.”
She giggled as she followed him in. A quick peek in the bathroom revealed a tub the size of a pool, perfect for the frisky newlywed couple.
Looking over her shoulder, Chase shook his head. “You could fit five people in that thing.”
“That might get awkward.”
“Ah, true, but it’s definitely big enough for two.”
“I don’t know,” she said, turning away from the bathroom and strolling past him. Across from the bed were balcony doors that led to a deck and a Jacuzzi. “I never got the whole bathtub-sex thing.”
“Then you’ve been doing it wrong.” His breath was warm against her cheek, and dear God, wouldn’t he know?
Startled by how quietly he had crept up on her, she spun around and swallowed. Images of him wet, naked, and wrapped around her in that bathtub sent a wave of molten lava shooting through her veins and straight to her core.
Her knees went weak. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Of course not,” he drawled. “You’ve just had the wrong partner.”
Madison wasn’t a prude, and just because no man had ever lived up to Chase in her eyes didn’t mean she hadn’t dated. And maybe he was right and she just had the wrong partners, because she couldn’t imagine not enjoying some bath time with him, but no way in hell would she ever admit as much to him.
Which meant it was time to change the subject and fast. But when she lifted her lashes and found him still staring at her beneath hooded eyes, her breath hitched in her throat.
Standing this close to him, inches away from a bed that would’ve made Austin Powers proud, was too much. The night in his club resurfaced in a rush of slippery emotions and tangled hopes that never really came to fruition.
She finally found her voice. “It…has nothing to do with my partners.”
Chase cocked his head to the side, his intense blue eyes narrowing. “Partners as in plural?”
Feigning indifference, she rolled her eyes when her heart was racing. “I’m twenty-five, not sixteen.”
“You don’t have to remind me of how old you are,” he all but growled.
“Then why do you seem shocked by the fact that I’ve had sex?”
He took a step forward, and she took one back. “With more than one person?”
Surely this wasn’t breaking news. “How many people have you had sex with? Five hundred?” she threw back. “Hell, how many in one month?”
A clear warning formed in those sapphire-gem eyes. “We’re not talking about me.”
“And we’re not talking about me.” One more step and her back hit the wall. There was nowhere to go. “So, let’s just stop…”
“Stop what?” He leaned in, his breath tantalizingly warm against her cheek, and he planted his large hands against the wall on either side of her head.
Madison’s gaze dropped to his lips, and she hadn’t the foggiest idea what they’d been talking about. Something about sex, and God, talking about sex with Chase was not a good idea. Because now she wanted sex. With Chase. She wanted to feel him inside her, only him, always him.
She wanted so much.
A liquid fire had spread through her veins, licking at her. Lust rose so quickly, pulsing through her limbs, hitting her fast and hard, leaving her senses spinning. A small part of her brain that still functioned fired off warnings
left and right. It was insanity to even entertain the idea of anything going down between her and Chase, but as her gaze moved up, colliding with his, her heart stopped.
“Tell me,” he ordered, voice low and gravely. “How many boys have you let touch you?”
Part of her bristled at his demand, but the other incredibly stupid part was thrilled that he cared. “I’ve never been with boys, Chase.”
Anger and something far more potent flared in his blue eyes. “Oh, so that’s how it is.”
“Whatever it is, it’s none of your business.”
He chuckled deeply. The movement brought his lips close to her cheek. “It’s my business.”
“Explain that faulty logic to me,” she said.
Chase smiled. “You’re my best friend’s little sister. That makes it my business—all my business.”
And that was the wrong thing to say. Fire of a different kind now pulsed through her. “Get away.” She started to push off the wall, but Chase leaned in, his chest flush with hers. Her body went haywire. Anger. Lust. Hope. Love. Fear. All her emotions tangled together. “Chase…”
He said nothing, and all she could now concentrate on was the feel of his rock-hard chest pressed against her breasts. The thin cotton of his shirt and her blouse were no match for the heat that rolled off him or the heat building inside her. Her nipples hardened to aching, wanton pearls, and she dragged in a deep breath, biting back a moan.
His lips parted.
There was no hiding her reaction, not from a man like Chase who knew every flavor of woman. And she wanted to be his flavor—his favorite. A tight coil wound deep inside her.
She was panting now, and he hadn’t even really touched her. She tried to disconnect from her out-of-control hormones, going as far as thinking about the DC Metro, and still, her body was turning on her.
His breath hitched and then he scowled at her, even as he pressed his forehead against hers. Her lashes fluttered shut and she grew very still, barely daring to breathe as his breath danced over her brow, down her temple, and across her cheeks.
His lips hovered over hers.