So, why had he sent the birthday card? He hadn't responded to her in months. Why didn't he just let it die? She almost had. Then two weeks ago, when she received a special delivery package from Texas, she thought it was his way of testing the waters, seeing if she was still interested. Her heart had soared, the baby kicked and wiggled, and she jumped online and looked up his tour dates. Chicago, on his birthday, two days after she finished her course at the Sorbonne. It was fate aligning all the stars. “Ha!"
Spotting a safe-looking hotel with a restaurant, she exited the freeway, pulled into a well-lit parking lot, and turned off the engine. Then broke down crying. Why did he lure her back to him only to send her away again? Chase had no idea what he wanted. But she knew, and she was prepared to wait him out.
Four months later, Chase finished his tour. It was so popular, he extended it to twenty more cities, and he felt worse than exhausted, he was damn near used up.
After a thirty-seven hour nap, he sat by the pool at his Texas home strumming his guitar and watching the sunset. A warm, October breeze ruffled the pages of his notebook, but words wouldn't come to him. And notes wouldn't form into music. He was dry as southwest Texas. It was this way since...Reno.
He'd tried dating a country singer, but she couldn't snap him out of his writer's block, and when he admitted he wasn't interested, sexually, she'd called him a freak and stormed out. But it didn't hurt his feelings. Hell, he couldn't feel anything but a cold, empty cave where his heart should be.
He needed to start working on his new CD and his agent hounded him for some new songs, begging him to commit to hiring writers.
The chords he strummed sounded familiar. He kept at it, then stopped. Shit, he was playing Prairie Fire. Reno's song. It hurt to think of her, and the song brought back every memory. Would probing this ache help him figure out why he was blocked?
Playing the song, he made it through the first verse, but the words were different. He wrote them down. Then the next verse, and that was better, too. He played the song twice more, writing down the new words, additional verses, a better modulation and bridge. Now, this was the old Chase, everything flowing together, coming to him easily.
He played it once more, singing the new words. It was good, now. Really good.
Flipping his notebook to a new page, he wrote the title of a song he'd been messing around with for a few months. Sidewinder. The words came slowly, and didn't make sense right away. “He's a snake, but she called him her hero, he's lowdown deadly, but she picked him up anyway.” Another song about him and Reno. That's what he'd been missing in his songwriting. He'd been blocking Reno out, and he had to let her in. Let his pain guide him.
It took two hours to write Sidewinder, and it was a rocking country ballad. Amazing what a little self-torture could do for a songwriter.
The sun went down, and he moved inside to his studio and kept writing, fueling himself with beer and leftover fried chicken. Six songs later, he felt like a human again. The first time since the night of Reno's award in D.C.
Adrenaline flowed and he could write all night, but he had to do something else first. Something he'd been putting off to spare himself the hurt. He needed to read her letters.
Sitting in his family room, which was damned ironic because he had absolutely no one, he sorted her letters by date, and opened the first one, the one she'd sent with his suitcase from D.C.
She apologized for not telling him about Drake, and asked for his forgiveness.
"Aw, Reno. That's not why I walked.” He felt lower than a snake.
In the letter, she promised to be more attentive to him, give him what he needed. She'd make it work.
He held the letter in a shaking hand. Goddamn, she blamed herself, but it was his insecurities, his low class upbringing, that made him not good enough for her. In D.C., she'd been the focus of attention, and he'd been too immature to accept that he was just her guest. Nobody special. Shit, had he really been that selfish? Why hadn't he explained it to her?
He dropped the letter on the table. Because she would have tried to talk around it, make him see things differently. But at least she wouldn't have lived with guilt all these months.
He ripped open the next envelope. Airmail from France. She talked about the school, what she taught, the friends she made, and the beauty of the country. And she invited him to visit. She was lonesome.
He looked at the liquor cabinet. Yeah, he was lonesome too, and bourbon was his only friend lately. No one else could stand him.
Two hours later, he'd read her letters twice. The last one talked about her birthday coming up, and she offered to fly him to France first class if he'd just come for a short while so she didn't have to spend the day alone.
The vision of her sitting by herself in some foreign country on her birthday damn near killed him. His chest hurt, a pain radiated down his arm. Was he having a heart attack? He deserved to die for what he did to her. He deserved...
No! Hell, no! All the sudden, it came together. He finally saw what he was doing to himself. “Fuck. Me!” He was living his father's life. Something he said he'd never do.
Running a hand through his hair, he gasped for breath. He wouldn't deny himself happiness, just because the woman he loved was out of his league. He could step back and let her shine. He could stand in her shadow whenever she needed him to, supporting her, encouraging her, and...loving her.
What a fool. What a fucking idiot! He stood, his mind clearing, his thoughts straight for the first time in a hell of a long time. He didn't have to let Reno go so she could find a man good enough for her. He had to become a man good enough for her.
But before he could do that, he first had to do something for himself. Something he'd been promising himself for years. He fired up his laptop and searched college registration.
October in South Dakota was beautiful. The golden wheat crop swayed in the fall breeze, rustling softly. Reno sat in her lawn chair in the wheat field, only about twenty feet from her house because that's the farthest her baby monitor worked. She wrote story ideas on her pad of paper, free forming plots as they popped into her mind.
The trouble with this technique was that every few minutes, her mind shifted to Chase. The idiot. He never called, never gave her a moment's thought as he plowed through his glamorous life, leaving a wake of destruction in his path. But he was the big country star, so no one mattered but him.
Dropping her head back, she looked up at the darkening sky, dusk settling as the sun dipped below the horizon. “Stop the bitterness. Think of good things.” She'd adopted the mantra when she came home four months ago, and faced the reality that she'd never see Chase again.
Breathing deeply, she relaxed and focused on the bounty of her life. The earth and wheat smelled so familiar. Elemental. This was where she belonged, and where she'd raise her little one.
Thanks to Mitzi's first-hand knowledge of what a baby needed, her spare room was now a nursery. She'd convinced her brother to paint the room for her, and made him promise not to call Chase, or go after him and beat him senseless.
Her mother was more pragmatic. Excited finally to have a grandchild, she offered to be Reno's labor coach. Which was weird. Having her mother massaging her big belly and telling her to breathe, when she should be yelling at her for getting herself into this predicament.
In the labor room, it had been Reno who yelled, and thanks to Chase's insistence that she swear during sex, she had no compunction against cussing like a sailor for the last three hours of labor. Much to the shock of her mother and the hospital staff.
A hawk soared overhead, and a chill wind slid across the field. Through the baby monitor, her daughter's tiny voice cooed, and she waited to see if she was awake, or just talking in her sleep.
For a month and a half, she'd had Joy to herself. Her family warned her that she needed to let Chase know about her, but fear kept her putting it off until another day. Would he ignore her? Or would he set up some kind of elaborate legal custody s
chedule? She sighed and clicked her pen closed. Tonight. She should do it right now. It wasn't fair to keep this information from Chase.
Of course, she dreamt he would sweep her and baby off their feet and beg her to come back to him. “Yeah, that's never going to happen."
Thankfully, the sound of a car coming up the driveway interrupted her bitter bout. Her sister-in-law stopped by every day to visit, prompted, she was sure, by her brother's worry about his little sister's mental health.
She stood and stretched backward, taking a couple deep breaths and lifting her arms to the sky. As she turned toward her house, a big, silver SUV pulled up and stopped, the driver's door opened, and a man in a black cowboy hat and black T-shirt got out.
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Chapter Fifteen
Oh, God. Reno's heart thudded and panic threatened to overtake her. As Chase closed the SUV's door, he looked around and froze when he spotted her in the wheat field.
It was too late to duck, and Joy chose that moment to chirp over the monitor. As he walked toward her, she yelled, “Stay where you are."
He jerked to a stop.
"What do you want?"
"I've come to talk to you.” He took a step toward the field.
"No!” She held up a hand. “Say what you want to say from there.” She needed to hear what was in his heart without fatherhood clouding his decision. And the ten extra pounds she sported around her middle and her now-double-D breasts might give that away. And, of course, the baby monitor...
With an index finger, he tipped his hat back. “Okay.” His voice sounded confused, but he continued. “I'm an idiot."
She bit her lips to hide her grin, then said, “Yeah, I already know that."
He looked down and shuffled his boot on the gravel. “I made a mistake, Reno.” He looked at her across the wheat. “I let myself believe that you'd be better off without me."
Warmth spread through her. This was what she'd waited so long to hear.
"I've asked you this too many times already, but can you forgive me? Will you let me try again?"
She couldn't speak. Every ounce of her love for this man bubbled up and caught in her throat.
He pulled off his hat and held it over his stomach. “I know I don't deserve it, but I'm standin’ in the need of prayer, Reno."
Such a poignant southern phrase. But all the soulful expressions in the world wouldn't make the past go away. Things had to change, and she needed to be sure of him. “Why would this time be different?"
"Because I've set goals for myself, and I'm committed to accomplish them."
This was unexpected. She'd braced herself to hear something about loving her more, or trying to understand her needs better. “What kind of goals?"
"First, I'm a college student now. I enrolled in both Black Hills State University and UTSA in San Antonio.” He smiled. “So wherever we are, I can take classes."
"You did?” She had no idea he wanted to further his education. Why had he kept that a secret from her? “That's wonderful."
"And I'm not going to stop until I have a doctorate degree."
A smile curled her lips. Dr. Chase Tanner. And he'd do it, too. She had no doubt. “What are you going to study?” This was the strangest conversation she'd ever held across a wheat field.
"I want to learn things about the world. Philosophy. Psychology. Art. Your world, too. I want to understand literature and stuff that will make me as smart as you."
His self-confidence would be bolstered by a college degree, but he needed to realize his main issue was his distorted image of himself. “Chase, you are as smart as I am. Your business sense is extraordinary—"
"Yeah, but my common sense...horseshit."
"True.” She grinned.
"I'm going to study French, too. I want to take you to Paris for your next birthday. I...” He batted the wheat with his hat. “I missed your last one, and I feel like crap."
So, he did read her letters. “I'd like that.” And she loved that he wanted to erase the pain of the past eight months and replace it with new memories.
He continued. “And I'm going to take some time off. I'm booked too tight. I need to step back and look at my life, decide what's important to me, and what I can let go of. I want to spend a lot of time with you."
She'd like that, too. She needed him close by, especially now, when she had her hands full. She looked down at the baby monitor. But, how would he react to learning about Joy? God, how was she going to tell him?
"I'm coming to talk to you.” He stepped forward.
"Stay there, Chase. I'll come out."
"Whatever you want.” He moved back to the truck.
She turned up the volume on the monitor and left it on the chair. She walked down the path she'd worn through the field over the last four months. Brushing wheat chaff off her white and pink floral sundress, she stepped out of the field.
His gaze took in all of her, then he sucked in a breath. “You are everything to me. I want to be part of your life again."
His quiet plea shook her like a gale force wind. She needed to touch him, to confirm he was finally, really here. She walked to him and cupped his face, slid her hand to the nape of his neck. His silky hair felt so achingly familiar, but his face looked older, tired out. Dark circles arched under his eyes, and new wrinkles furrowed his brow.
"Reno, I love you.” His perfect blue eyes glowed with sincerity and her worry about his health slipped away.
Did she ever think she'd hear those words from him? She let them sink in and expand, filling every ounce of her with joy.
Then his face contorted. “Forgive me for all the horrible—"
"Forgiven,” she said. They would deal with their past later. Right now, she had a few things to tell him about his future. And there was only one way to start. “I love you, too, Chase."
Burying his face in her hair, he whispered, “You did say that to me in Chicago, didn't you? I thought I was dreaming."
"No, I blurted it out. I'd hoped it would plant a seed, and you'd come back to me as soon as it took hold.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I had no clue that it would be so slow to take root in that thick, stubborn brain of yours."
He put an arm around her shoulders and they walked to the house. “It took me too long, but I'll make it up to you. I promise. For the rest of our lives."
No words had ever sounded that marvelous and a chill of excitement skittered through her. Forever? he'd asked her all those months ago at his ranch, but she'd answered, for now. Even then, she'd known that they'd need to go through a lot of hell before they found their heaven.
They climbed the steps to the porch. The windows stood open, and the chill fall breeze blew through them and out the screen door. He held it open for her, and they walked inside.
The table held a stack of baby clothes her friend, Mitzi, brought for her that morning, and Reno scooped them up and stuffed them in a drawer. She scanned the room, making sure there wasn't any other evidence lying around. She needed to talk things out with him before she sprang Joy on him.
Chase walked around the great room. “This is really nice.” He gestured to the fireplace and the bear rug and pillows in front of it. “Can I light a fire?"
"Sure.” While he was busy, she should check on the baby. “I'll be right back.” She skittered down the hall to the spare bedroom where Joy lay in a pink bundle. Her Joy, the most lovely, perfect creation she'd ever brought into the world. Reno's books had been her babies for so many years, but by comparison, they seemed almost frivolous. She'd never stop writing, but this little angel would always come first.
Joy's tiny mouth worked in her sleep, preparing for her next meal, and Reno's milk let down. She stuffed a couple extra pads in her bra, imaging Chase seeing wet circles on her dress and asking a hundred questions.
When she came out, she found him sitting on his heels starting the fire. He'd closed the windows and door, and he'd turned on the little Mount Rushmore
nightlight in the kitchen.
She asked, “Can I fix you something to eat?"
"If you're not too hungry...” Gesturing to the pillows, he said, “We should talk first."
"Yes, we should talk.” Over the last ten months, she'd come to hate those words, but their talk today would be different. A happily ever after for her, and the surprise of his life for Chase.
He helped her down and she reclined on the pillows, then he lay next to her, his head braced on his bent arm. “I wasn't thinking straight, Reno, that weekend in D.C., and the last eight months.” He brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “But you have to trust that I've got my shit together now. I'm ready to be your man."
She closed her eyes. She'd always told him she could forgive him for anything. She glanced at him. The look on his face—fear mixed with expectancy—humbled her, and she reached out and touched his cheek. She would forgive him again, and things would be different now. “I do trust you, Chase. I do love you."
Their gazes fixed on each other in the flickering firelight. She wanted this man. Babies, mini-vans, ponies, and sunny days on sandy beaches. The perfect family. A log snapped, and she blinked out of her reverie.
He leaned closer, his hard, flat abdomen pressed against her chubby belly. “I love you, Reno. More than I can explain.” He kissed her, a soft brush of lips.
She laced her hand in his hair and pulled him down to her. Teasing his lips with her tongue, she awakened the sexual beast in him, and the kiss turned fierce.
He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue tasting every inch of her mouth, as if he were starving for her. The zing of lust brought back all the memories of their intense lovemaking, and her pussy lips swelled, creaming for him.
Chase and Seduction Page 14