Chaz

by Amy J. White

  Chaz

  Hot Small Town Alphas Series

  Amy J. White

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Also by Amy J. White

  Join Amy’s mailing list

  Thank you

  Chapter 1

  Chaz

  Six Years Ago

  I stand in the office looking outside into the darkening ridges of the woods. Every hair on my body stands on high alert, eyes scrunched together as I study the signs my father taught me as a child.

  The inside of the rangers’ station is warm in spite of the biting cold of the early spring winds. Its small confines only large enough for the few of us responsible for watching out for the people – both local and visiting for deer season – safe from things like weather, animals or providing help when they get lost.

  “Looks like it’s going to get pretty bad,” My brother Nick says behind me. “Think we should start closing things down? Make a quick trip through the park?”

  I nod and we both go get our jackets, hustling out towards the trucks.

  That was the last time I’d see my brother before all hell – and the mountain side – broke loose.

  Present Day

  My body shakes at the memory, causing my hands to white-knuckle on the steering wheel of my Ford truck. Every time I return to Buchanan to meet with my old friends, Ethan and Casey, to enjoy the bountiful deer hunting season, I find myself bombarded by memories regarding that tumultuous day I lost my brother.

  Many times, including now, I ask myself why I keep doing this. The answer often involves me missing the small town I once called home. Life where I live now isn’t bad. It offers plenty of opportunity to move forward like I’ve been told to do often.

  Still, that hounding, damnable ache –could I have done something more than what I did pounds the back of my mind?

  Why do I do this to myself every fucking year?

  A green sign with three names stares back at me as I pass by. Buchanan, 10 miles stands out amongst the three.

  True, I use this chance to visit my brother’s grave, see some of my old friends and some of my old haunts but every damn one of them reminds me of him.

  Sweat puddles in my hairline, dripping down the sides of my face. My lips become dry from the multiple times I’ve licked them to the point of stinging. I grit my teeth so hard it feels like I might crack a molar.

  Get a hold of yourself. Meet Ethan and Casey, see their kids, and hunt with them. Just a group of guys having fun like we all used to do... Only, it used to be all four of us now it’s only three.

  I shake my head, my every breathe heaving.

  Buchanan, 5 miles.

  There’s no turning back now.

  My eyes widen, the slightest hint of a smile curls over my lips. Nothing appears to have changed in the six years since I’ve been gone. Aside from the local gossip of the prodigal daughter, Ryley Dursey marrying her high school crush, and the local independent hard gal Lilah Chastain marrying the nerd – Casey Gaines -- she always scorned in high school, nothing has changed.

  Which means I wonder if she’s changed? My thoughts break through the nightmares to focus on the one source of light I’d ever known.

  Rachel Ellroy, the woman who came from the worst conditions anyone could never want to go through as a child. Her younger sister died in an accident two years ago while the two of them were out at a friend’s party. A worthless father with less emotional support than a bale of hay who focused more on fucking after downing a bottle did nothing to help with the pain.

  Still, Rachel had the strength to become a woman determined to start the business she and her sister developed out of a hobby. I remember them both vividly.

  Where Sandra had blazing red hair, Rachel had the strawberry blonde sported by her mother. Sandra had more pointed features reminiscent of their dad. Rachel has rounded soft features and a pug nose I love to see scrunched when she laughs.

  I recall when Ethan called me to tell me Sandra drowned in the lake after having too much to drink. I wanted to call Rachel, comfort her, but what the hell could I offer when I was as fucked up as she had to be at the time.

  When we were young, we spent a lot of time together. With my drunk and abusive mother and her father gallivanting out with every woman he could get his dick in, we were all we had. Rachel picked up baking, often providing me with delicious treats when I was in a shit mood.

  I liked to give her fresh fruit, bread and milk from my uncle’s nearby farm.

  She wasn’t what anyone could call a cheerleader type. Her thighs were thicker, breasts a bit smaller and a face full with the hint of freckles. Her curves weren’t as defined as the Queen Bee Betty from school but still, I loved how hard Rachel worked.

  Despite her pain, she never let anyone see how bad her dad’s excursions made her feel and her heart was so big, it took in most of the senior class.

  Rachel and I met when I accidentally bumped into her coming out of the library. Her face remained hidden behind a stack of library books she planned on re-shelving as a part of her extra credit class. Her gorgeous blonde hair bounced in a styled ponytail from side to side.

  While thinking about her, the floral decorated windows of the Choc N’Chip Bakery come into view. Its large glass window decorated with pale blue curtains covered in ornate yellow flowers sported the name outlined in golden block letters.

  Once again, it’s full with patrons eager to get their day started in a town mostly run on logging in the nearby mountain and small town businesses.

  Wanting to see Rachel again, I decide to stop by the Choc N’Chip, hoping she won’t be angry at me for not calling her after Sandra’s death.

  I pull my truck in one of the empty parking spots, cut the engine and sit and stare at the glass door. It sports the same decoration as the large window. A blue curtain over a brass pole and the bakery’s name in the same block letters.

  In tribute to Valentine’s Day, she has red hearts spread out around the flowers. Seeing it brings a smile to my face. That is so like her.

  Pushing the door open, I hear the tinkling of the silver cow bell. It makes me freeze a moment when I realize what I’m about to do.

  What if she’s mad? I haven’t called her save for a few times since I’ve been gone. I swallow the knot choking my Adam’s apple, feeling it bob. This is a bad idea. I should leave before it gets messy.

  What kind of friend doesn’t call when someone’s sister dies? Especially in such a horrible circumstance. You should know how that feels, moron.

  I squint, fighting the urge to step back before anyone notices me. Pulling my coat up, I turn on my heel, stopping when my name is called.

  “Chaz! Hey, man!” I glance over my shoulder to see Casey walking up to me, a smile plastered to his face. “I thought you wouldn’t come this year. Ethan was worried sick.”

  Acting cool, I tilt my head towards the ceiling. “Nah! I just had a few things to wrap up back at my home. I wouldn’t miss this chance to hang out with my best buds for our yearly deer hunt.”

  It was true. No matter how painful being here felt, seeing Ethan and Casey always made it a little better. They stood by me, fighting the same bar fights, getting in the same trouble and pissing off the same cops.

  I clear my throat, the nagging question threatening to sear the end of my tongue like a hot iron. I reach my hand to the back of my hair, scratching. “Is she here?”

  Casey’s eyes widen briefly, returning to his coy teasing gaze. “It’s her day off, man. You know how hard this time of year is for her.”

  A sad look r
eplaces the tease. “You above all people should know how she feels.”

  My face mimics his, mouth downturned in a sharp frown. “Do you know where she is?”

  “If I had to venture a guess, I’d say the cemetery. Might check there.” A hard slap on the back of my right shoulder brings about a hiss through my teeth, followed by a thick arm wrapping around my neck. “Now, why don’t you let me get you a couple of coffees so you can sweep your lady off her feet in the right way.”

  I want to slug him. As if Casey Gaines has any advice I can use to woo a woman, let alone the one I no doubt broke the heart of each time I didn’t reply to her calls or texts.

  Windshield wipers squeak and whine with each swish across my windshield. Thick drops of rain cause my heart to pound like a drum. I hesitate to get out into the weather once I pull up to the gravel lot facing the cemetery. I’m okay. I’m okay. This isn’t the mountain side. This isn’t –

  Then, I remember why I came here.

  The beautiful strawberry blonde woman I wanted the moment our eyes locked could be in here visiting the grave of her sister.

  That’s right, be a man. Be a fucking man. I pushed the door open with my boot, wincing a moment when the heavy drops hit the ends of my jeans.

  Shoving my hands in my pocket, I take a deep breath to gather focus. Rachel. Sweet, librarian turned baker Rachel is in here.

  A woman I want to see. A woman I want to fuck.

  Chapter 2

  Rachel

  Two Years ago

  The bonfire rises to a healthy height, creating the perfect glow on the dark waters of the lake. I sit with my sister and the boy she pines for, Daniel, the mysterious recluse who has family roots deeper in Buchanan than anyone I know.

  I light another cigarette before taking a swig from the Jack Daniel’s dangling in my hand. Things began blurring the further into the buzz that I fall. If my dad found out, I have no doubt Sandra and I would be in the worst trouble despite our not being kids anymore.

  Besides, tonight I’m drinking to forget about him. The man I wanted. Who left without as much as a word after the loss of his brother!

  It’d been four years; still, it hurt when Chaz suddenly moved without talking to me. I know it hurt when he lost Nick. Hell, he’d been one of the guys in Buchanan any woman would spread her legs for in a heartbeat.

  I stare at my phone. As if he’d suddenly, magically change his mind and reply to one of the many texts I sent.

  In truth, I feel like a stalker. But I know he has feelings for me too regardless of my less than hourglass-shaped features.

  “Let’s go swimming!” I hear my sister’s chiming voice above the haze.

  I know it’s a bad idea. “You’re drunk, Sandy. You really think that’s a good idea?”

  My sister pouts, her lower lip pursed in a pucker. “You’re so boring. Come on.”

  It’s against my better judgement, but I follow my sister and Daniel to the water.

  It’s the worst mistake that I had ever made.

  Present Day

  Tears run down my cheeks, mixing the rain. I stand in front of my sister’s grave, beating myself up for not standing up as the older sibling and telling Sandra no – don’t be stupid.

  I’m so sorry. If only I’d said something else. My voice sounds shaky in my head, guilt plaguing me.

  I’d been the one to get Sandra introduced to the idea of moving in with each other, starting our own business and getting out from under our dad’s thumb. I taught her how to bake, though she never really became good at it. Sandy understood more of the business side of things than I did.

  We finally were able to buy a building we long had our eyes on when the accident happened. The party – I guess – was our way of celebrating how close our freedom from our father became.

  As I stare at her gravestone, I sniffle. In spite of the tears, a smile creeps across my face.

  I’ll never forget the smile you had when we finally signed the papers for the store. We already planned the grand opening party and everything.

  Things got worse when Chaz – the man I fell in love with the moment I saw him – never called to see how I was.

  At first, I thought I was mad at him, and then I felt silly. How could I be angry at someone who suffered the exact same thing I did? If I were in his shoes, would I do the same thing?

  Crackling of something or someone coming up the gravel path catches my attention. Probably it’s just someone coming to see a loved one. I think to myself.

  “Rachel.”

  That voice. My eyes jerk to the speaker, falling on the man I had just been thinking of. The man who inhabits every wet dream I have ever had while massaging myself.

  Chaz is standing only a few feet away from me. He is so different, yet so familiar. Smooth features have been replaced with a scruff of auburn that runs up the sides of his face into hair I dreamed of spearing my fingers through as we made love.

  His shoulders are broad beneath the leather bomber he wears over a black t-shirt. Jeans ripped in the knees, frayed down at his boots covers legs with thick thighs I know have to be as muscular as his arms. Large hands decorated with leather bands hang at his sides, the fingers opening and closing as though he might be nervous.

  “Ch..Chaz?” A smile lights my face and without being able to stop them, my feet launch me towards him. I don’t know what kind of expression I see on his face, but I don’t stop until I slam our bodies together. “It is you. I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back this year.”

  We pull away from one another, our eyes meeting. Time seems to stand still like a Nicolas Sparks novel as we stand in the rain, not caring how wet we are.

  “I’m sorry, Rach. I should’ve called. God, I thought you’d be so angry at me.” He jerks his head to the right, his words softly said.

  Words escape me. Throwing myself into his chest, I grip the back of the bomber, just thankful to have him so close again. “I know. I was at first. It was selfish of me when I knew how much being here hurt you.”

  Truth was that it hurt me too. Had I not had the bakery or the support of my close friends, I don’t know what I might’ve done. “Have you seen Ethan or Casey?”

  Chaz smiles a soft smile, nodding. “I saw Casey when I went to your bakery. He told me you had the day off. I hadn’t seen Ethan yet.”

  My lips purse slightly. Not really at him, but the fact he went to the bakery and I wasn’t there to give any delicious treats to help with the obvious nervousness he displays.

  Taking his hand in mine, I start to pull him towards the exit. He stops me.

  “I…I’d like to make a stop of my own, if that’s okay.”

  How stupid I am. I forgot why he comes back here around this time every year. “Okay.” I snuggle into his arm after he offers a hooked arm. “Would you like some company?”

  Hard beats of my heart beat against my ribs at the idea that Chaz might not want anyone around when he visits his brother’s grave. Ironically, it’s nestled not far from where my family has their little patch beneath the large willow tree that takes up most of the interior of the place.

  Gentle eyes – is that relief I see in them? – glance down at me, indicating how different we are in height. I become self-conscious when his eyes appear to darken, the tip of his tongue out to play with his full lower lip. What is he imagining?

  “It’d make me happy if you came with me.” His tone is low and sensual, eyes half-mast.

  Suddenly I become much more aware of just how much man I have my arm hooked around. A hard bicep flexes beneath the bomber, his smell a delicious mix of woodsy musk and fresh rain.

  As we walk, I look down at my feet; letting thoughts I shouldn’t let in start to overtake me. Maybe it’s every woman’s – no, not every, just me -- fear a man as hot as Chaz won’t see her as something other than a friend.

  My thick thighs rub together, ending at skinny jeans and sneakers where I have always felt lay the biggest feet I’ve ever seen. I know that
I’m not fat or ugly by any means; I’m just not Queen Bee Betty thin.

  I still have a few of the freckles I had in high school. Not as many as I used to but after being made fun of for so long, a woman starts to wonder if guys like that kind of thing.

  Chaz and I hadn’t seen one another in years. What if what he felt – or what I hoped he felt -- in high school doesn’t exist anymore and he’s just being nice to me out of pity or feeling bad for not calling me.

  Putting the thoughts away, I grip at the strength which I tapped into to build my own business. No, that’s your dad talking, not Chaz. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, I know he doesn’t think little of me. Not after the history we have.

  We arrive at Nick’s grave.

  I never got the chance to ask Chaz what happened. Not that anyone in Buchanan forgot the day the mudslides hit.

  Ethan’s father nearly lost his horse ranch from the thick breakaway mud slides from the mountain. I remember worrying myself to death, chewing my fingernails to the quick watching the rangers battling the elements to rescue people and animals from the thick muck.

  Half the town flooded with the stuff. I’ll never forget the moment I was told about Chaz losing his brother. I lost all words and debated on calling him or rushing over to his house.

  Even if we weren’t “lovers,” we were still friends.

  The next day, Chaz put his house up for sale and left, leaving everything save for a few precious items inside.

  My mouth opens to ask the blaring question about what happened only to close again.

  If I’m ever going to get into Chaz’s heart, I need him to open himself to me again like he did once. I’ll help him heal the wound. That’s the only way we’ll rekindle what we had.