by Lily Cahill
Chase dragged his arm up his forehead and squinted at Emily.
“Can I help you?” He tried to sound as bored as humanly possible.
Emily just stared, eyebrows raised. “Everyone’s going out to the studio so I can hear a bit of this new sound.”
Chase didn’t move. After a moment, Emily held out her hand to help him up. He ignored it and hauled himself to his feet without touching her. Just caressing her arm the night before had driven him wild nearly all night. It was only when he had downed enough whiskey that she finally faded from his thoughts.
Without a word, they headed through the house and out the back door toward the studio shed. Jax, Bret, and Drew were already waiting inside. Chase collapsed against the arm of the couch and sliced his eyes toward Emily.
“I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you,” he drawled, lazily pointing to the back of the chair she’d been about to lean against.
Emily grimaced and stood up straight. She shook her head in apparent disgust and wandered closer to the soundboard.
“Or that,” Chase added.
She snatched her hand back from one of the dials and cut Chase a withering look. In one corner, Bret chuckled. Emily rolled her eyes at both of them and walked quickly toward an old stool in the opposite corner.
“Oh, not there—”
“Chase, I get it,” Emily exploded. She sat down firmly on the stool and sneered at him. “You screwed a bunch of drunk college girls in here. Do you want a medal, or will my eternal awe at your sexual feats be enough to make you shut up?”
Drew burst with sudden laughter, and Jax chuckled. Chase glared at them, but that just made Jax laugh harder.
“I can see it now,” Jax said, his eyes bright. “Winning the gold for cunnilingus … Chase Hart!”
“Whatever,” Chase said, pressing to his feet. “Are we going to play, or what?” He sauntered past his brothers—not bothering to look at Emily—and into the studio. He sat down heavily onto the stool perched behind his drum kit and palmed two sticks.
Bret called out the song, and Chase nodded, but then promptly screwed up the lead-in for the title track, “Montana Echo.” And then he screwed up the bridge too. Man, maybe he needed to spend a bit more time in here instead of drinking.
When they finished that song, Jax suggested they play “A Love So Deep.” Chase groaned. It started out with him on a traditional Irish drum, one he was still pretty rusty at playing. Instead, he opted to use his hands on his tom drum. He managed not to screw that one up too badly.
When the song ended, Chase looked up to see Emily standing at the open door to the studio, a smile lighting up her face.
“That’s it, guys. That’s your first single.”
Jax grinned. “You think so?”
Emily nodded quickly and walked further into the room. Her smile was still wide across her lips, and Chase was struck with just how beautiful she was.
“Definitely, Jax. It bridges the divide between the straight rock of your first album and the layered sound of the new album. It’s perfect, you guys.”
Next to Emily, Bret bristled. He yanked his guitar strap over his head and practically dropped his guitar back onto its stand. “Yeah, we get it, Emily. You can stop kissing Jax’s ass.”
Emily startled at Bret’s harsh tone, and Chase’s stomach twisted to see her luminous smile fade to nothing. “Bret, I’m not trying to praise one of you over the other. But that song is an outstanding single. You should be happy.”
Bret sneered, his eyes heavily lidded. “I’d be happy if that compliment was coming from someone who actually knew anything, not some glorified intern who got this gig because of a rich dad.”
Emily stilled, her face draining of color. Chase’s twisting stomach roiled with sudden venom.
“Hey,” he hissed at Bret. “Don’t be a douche.”
Bret’s mouth compressed to a slit, but Chase couldn’t stop himself.
“Don’t be mean to her just because you can’t be truthful with Jax.”
Bret stood rigid and jammed a finger toward Chase. “Jax knows exactly what I think of this new bullshit. And why it’s happening.”
Jax held up his hands. “Whoa. Dude, don’t bring Tiff into this.”
“She’s already in this!” Bret snarled. “All these stupid songs, they’re because of her.”
“Stop,” Emily said, raising her voice. The room went quiet, and she swiveled her head between Jax and Bret, who were mere inches apart, glaring at each other. “Stop,” she said again. “You two need to work your shit out. I don’t want to bust my butt doing publicity for the twenty-first century versions of Liam and Noel Gallagher.”
Then she turned on a heel and strode out of the studio, through the control room, and slammed the door behind her. Chase waited a beat, then dashed after her.
“Emily! Wait!”
Up ahead, Emily was striding through the trees, and she didn’t slow down at the sound of Chase running after her.
“Em,” Chase called again. She stopped, glanced back at him. Chase’s breath was blown away, stolen by this stunning woman.
Afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees and turned the world golden. The air was rich with soil and the undercurrent of sea salt, and overhead Chase heard gulls calling. Chase nearly stumbled to a stop before Emily and searched for the words … any words to express the turmoil seizing him.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
Emily cocked her head, regarding him. “There’s no need to apologize.” She laughed ruefully. “Besides, shouldn’t you be happy to see me treated like crap?”
Chase took a step closer, dragged closer to Emily by the rhythm of his soul. It beat her name over and over, soft as a breath and vast as the ocean.
“No one should treat you like shit,” Chase managed, his voice deep. He cracked half a smile. “Give me names. I’ll go beat them up.”
Emily laughed, low and throaty. Golden, like her hair. “You’d end up pretty battered if you had to punch yourself over and over.”
She shook her head, then dropped her tote bag to the ground and ran her hands through her hair, twisting it up into a high bun. She’d missed a lock, though, and it curled along the side of her face, glittering in the sunlight like spun gold. Chase ached with the need to touch her.
Before he could think better of it, he slipped that lock of hair through his fingers and gently tucked it behind Emily’s ear. He should stop. He needed to stop.
But he couldn’t. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her face, his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. Her lips parted, she sucked in a slight breath, and she stared up at Chase.
Waiting. Waiting.
It was inevitable. It was undeniable.
Chase dipped his mouth to Emily’s and captured her lips. She gasped against his mouth, but then pressed into it. Her mouth melded to his, their lips exploring. It was fervent, searing, and Chase could feel the kiss all the way down to his soul, branding him.
A low growl rumbled up Chase’s throat, and he deepened the kiss, his searching tongue flicking past Emily’s plush lips. God, she was perfect. He wrapped his arms around her, tugged her closer. She was soft as her lips, her curves womanly and lush. He’d never been with a woman so voluptuous before, and hot desire flared within him.
Emily pressed against Chase, her lips parted and fairly panting against him as they succumbed to the kiss. Finally, after a long while, Chase straightened, pulled back. He had to look at her, touch her.
Emily softly laid her hands against Chase’s chest. She looked up at him, and for a breath of a moment, her smile was dreamy, her eyes were bright. But then those gentle fingers curled into fists against his chest and her smile faded. The light in her eyes blinkered shut, and she turned away. Chase felt the distance like a physical punch.
“I have to go,” she said, her voice quiet and her eyes dropped to the forest floor.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have …. Let me walk you back, we can talk.”
Chapter Five
Emily
EMILY COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT HAD just happened. It was … impossible! She shook her head at the insanity of it all as she wandered into the lobby of her little B&B. The hoteliers Winifred and Wes were perched behind the front desk, and she spared a smile for them before looking away. Lost in thought, Emily prodded at her lips, still swollen from the blazing kiss from Chase.
From Chase. Not Asher. Guilt ripped through her, left her insides ragged. She’d just cheated on her boyfriend. The reality of it was a stone in the pit of her stomach, sourness creeping up her throat. She staggered on her feet a bit, then wrenched her head up at the gentle press of a thin hand on her arm.
Winifred smiled sweetly at her, then shared a look with her husband—the sort of look that spoke volumes, the unspoken communication of two people who have been in love for a very long time. It was the sort of look that made Emily feel hollow inside with envy. She wanted what they had. She wanted it so much it hurt.
Moving quicker than she would have expected, Wes hopped down from his stool and bustled about preparing a tea tray. He handed it off to Winifred, who nodded toward the hall where Emily’s room lay. Emily was too wrung-out from the thousand conflicting emotions of the last hour to do anything but follow.
Emily pushed the door open and paused, unsure what to say.
“Love and heartache are so intimately connected, aren’t they?” She handed over the tea tray and smiled at Emily. “But tea and biscuits always help. The British do know exactly how to soothe both problems, I’ve found.”
Emily took the tray gratefully and slid it onto her desk, collapsing into the chair. She poured a cup of smooth, dark tea and tried one of the cookies—a small crescent that tasted of butter and lemon. Winifred was right. It did help. At least, it helped order her thoughts.
She was a cheater. God, it made her feel so cheap to say it. But it was the truth. She had cheated on Asher. Asher, who had been a constant in her life for years. They were a good match; they had always felt … inevitable. Perhaps that wasn’t the best headline for true love, but it’s what she had. And the thought that a single kiss with a rockstar could ruin that ….
Emily rubbed at her eyes and slumped her forehead into her hand. If she were being truthful, she’d know it wasn’t just that kiss. There’d been something building between her and Chase since the moment they’d met. An energy sparked every time they spoke, hell, even looked at each other. And the sensation of his touch, his kiss. Emily shivered at the memory of it.
The truth was, she would have kept kissing him. She would have done so much more, wanted to do so much more. She closed her eyes, and Chase was there. His shaved head, his bright eyes, the quirk of his intelligent mouth. The way she could sense the ripple of steeled muscle underneath the vibrant tattoos when he’d pulled her close.
And more … more. His searing mouth on hers, she could picture it trailing down her body, savoring all of her. And his fingers, long and sure. Emily groaned and shifted in her seat, the tightness at her core begging for release.
A blaring ring suddenly made her jump. Emily pressed the back of her hands to her warm cheeks and then grabbed her phone.
It was Asher.
Emily’s cheeks flared hot and she crossed her legs, like he’d just caught her masturbating. He had once, in the bath. She’d asked him to join her, stupidly thought she was being sexy. Asher had curled his lips and told her to go to the gym if she had that much pent up energy.
Emily shook away the humiliating memory and answered the phone.
“Hey, babes. Listen,” Asher barked. “Can you ask your father to hook me up with box seats to the Yankees?”
“Um, when?” Emily tried to sound normal, happy to hear her boyfriend’s voice. Not like a cheater who’d just been fantasizing about a rockstar.
“This Friday. Can you do it?”
Emily chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I won’t be home yet. Probably not for another week or two. I can ask for them then.”
“The second ticket isn’t for you, it’s for Drake. He’s never been—can you believe it? He’d lose his shit. You know I’m trying for that promotion. This would be perfect to show I can really take on more accounts and woo clients.”
“Okay,” Emily said slowly. “I can try, but it’s really short notice. You know my dad uses those seats for his own clients.”
Asher made a disgusted sigh. “I mean, if you can’t even try to do something nice for me. You’ve already ran away to fucking Maine and left me here alone.”
“No, no!” God, he was right. He was waiting for her back in New York and she was cheating on him. “I’ll try, Asher. And I was thinking of coming home next week, you know, for—”
“Sweet. Thanks, babes.”
“Right, but next week. Do you have anything planned? It’s been kind of a mess up here managing this band, so I’d love to have something to look forward to with you.”
“God, Emily. You’ve been complaining non-stop. That’s all I’ve heard for the last week. Chase this and Chase that. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you need to bang him already and get it over with.”
Emily’s throat closed up. Her lungs burned and her heart galloped in her chest.
“Why would you say that?” Emily managed to whisper.
Asher sighed. “That was rude. I’m sorry. It’s been a long couple days at work. I really can’t wait for you to come home and make me feel better.”
“I miss you too, Ash.”
There was a long moment of silence, then Asher spoke up again.
“So, those tickets ….”
Emily hung up a minute later after reassuring him she’d try and e-mailed her dad. She pulled up the calendar on her laptop and stared at it. Next week was her five-year anniversary with Asher. Five years, and how was she treating him? Like dirt. Asher deserved better. He was a good boyfriend, really. He was stable and got along well with her parents, and they futures seemed to be aligned.
Emily stared at her computer, racked with guilt. On a whim, she called up a jeweler she knew and dropped way too much money on a vintage Rolex for Asher. She even engraved it with his initials. It was five years together. He deserved something fantastic.
But after she’d hung up with her acquaintance, she sat back and felt … wrong. Like she was papering over the problem in her relationship with money.
Chapter Six
Chase
GOD, WHAT A MISTAKE. CHASE still couldn’t believe he’d fallen prey to the roaring demands of his bear and chased after Emily. Not just chased … kissed.
He felt so weak. And Chase Hart hated feeling weak.
He was stretched out diagonally across his king-size bed, drumming his hands against his stomach, when someone knocked on his door. He grunted, and the door whispered open.
“You never did know how to lay in a bed,” Jax said, a smile in his voice. “I always hated bunking with you, hogging all the space.”
Chase didn’t move or stop drumming, but he watched Jax pad into the room and sink onto the edge of the bed. “Well, you are the younger brother. Why should I share?”
Jax shook his head, though he was still smiling. “Honestly, big brother, I don’t know how you convince all those women to sleep with you. Where do they find the space?”
Chase crooked an eyebrow and sat up. He ran a palm over his head and caught his fingers up into his beard and tugged—it needed a trim. “Well, we don’t do much sleeping. I know you’re all married and mated and whatever, but surely you haven’t forgotten that.”
Something like determination passed over Jax’s features, and he took a deep breath before looking straight at Chase. He could sense “a talk” coming, the kind his mom and dad had given him when he wa
s young and getting into too much trouble. For a moment, Chase’s chest tightened. Maybe he wouldn’t be so much trouble now if his dad hadn’t turned into a lunatic and his mom hadn’t abandoned them.
“Oh, Jesus. What is it?” Chase said, trying to dispel the somber mood that hung around Jax like a fog. “Did I forget to latch the gate again and let all the sheep out to pasture?”
Jax fixed Chase with a look. Chase raised his palms up. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t try to joke during such a serious conversation.”
“What’s going on with Emily?” Jax spoke over the argument already spilling past Chase’s lips. “Don’t bullshit me here, Chase. I found the key to my lock, you know. I know that look. I know that feeling. Man, you can’t try to deny it if she’s your mate.”
Chase’s insides churned and a muscle jumped in his temple. Dammit. At first, he’d thought if he simply chased her away, this would all be over. But he’d lasted less than forty-eight hours before succumbing to his bear and kissing her. However, that was the end. He wasn’t going to get within touching distance of that woman until he’d conquered the insane longings of his bear to mate.
Chase smoothed his hand over his beard and leaned back on his hands, the picture of nonchalance. “Dude, you need to get your eyes checked if you think that chick is my mate. I’ve told you before, I don’t even remember what I saw in that vision,” he lied.
He remembered. He remembered it nightly. Her smooth skin, delicate chin, the way she’d sound if she laughed. Her soft blond hair that he longed to feel under his fingers. Her perfect, pink mouth that he yearned to explore again with his own. Chase shoved the memories of Emily—his mate—deep down and grimaced.
“And Christ, I’d be shit out of luck if she was my mate. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she kind of loathes me.”