by G. A. Rael
"There are certainly worse problems to have," Chase said, linking his arm in hers as he helped her down the steps outside the club. "I'm not much of a drinker myself."
"No, but I bet you don't humiliate yourself when you do drink," she muttered.
He laughed. "No, I got all that out of my system in college. Something tells me you've never done a keg stand."
"What's that?"
“Trust me, you don't want to know." He came to a stop on the sidewalk. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a coffee shop the next block over."
"I wouldn't mind the walk if you're wrong," Jordan admitted. It occurred to her as she was following a suspected murderer through the streets of New York that she probably should have at least told Hermes about his rumored past, but something told her he wouldn't have let her leave if she had. As much as she would have liked to believe that she was only with Chase because her instincts told her to trust him, there was a certain appeal in wondering what Darren would say. Would some part of him care, even now, if he thought she was in danger?
No, she thought. Surely he was too occupied with Allison now.
"Well, we are in New York," Chase mused, jolting her out of her thoughts. "Throw a rock and you'll hit java. Ah, there it is," he said, nodding at the neon coffee cup sign in the distance. When they reached the little shop, he opened the door to reveal a mostly empty dining room. They took a seat at one of the tables in front and Chase pulled out her chair before shrugging out of his jacket.
"I still can't believe we ended up at the same club," said Jordan, trying to feel him out. She doubted that he knew. Hermes had a way of manipulating people without raising any red flags. Hell, he’d lured her to Cold Creek and they’d never even met.
"It is a pretty crazy coincidence," he agreed without a smidgen of pretense. "Do you come to the city a lot?"
"Not at all," she said, deciding that was a mistake as she took in all the lights outside. From what Hermes had told her, they were far from Times Square, but she couldn't imagine anything more dazzling than the area they were in. "It's beautiful, though."
"That it is," he said affectionately. "I almost went to NYU, but Boston University offered me a better package."
"What made you come back to Cold Creek after everything that happened?" She winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."
"No, it's refreshing," he insisted. "Everyone else tiptoes around it. Truth be told, I thought I'd scared you off the night of the festival."
So much had happened that night, it was easy to forget their strange conversation. "No, you didn't. Things have just been chaotic since then."
"Yes, I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and Darren," he said in a surprisingly genuine tone. He was different when he was away from Cold Creek. Jordan could hardly blame him for that.
"Thanks," she said, pausing for a moment as the waitress came over to take their orders. "So, you were telling me about why you came back?"
"It's funny when I think about it," he said with a dry laugh. "Throughout most of high school, I told myself I was going to leave the moment I turned eighteen."
"I probably would have," she admitted. "Why didn't you?"
He shrugged. "I guess I just finally realized that my past would follow me no matter how far I ran, and running would only confirm in everyone else’s mind that I was exactly who they thought I was. I figured if I stayed here and tried to help people, at least I could prove it to myself that they were wrong."
"That's brave of you," Jordan murmured.
"I wouldn't call it brave so much as stubborn. All these years later, I'm still trying to prove that I'm not who they think I am.”
Jordan frowned. "Don't you ever get tired of it? It must be exhausting living under so much suspicion all the time."
"It is," he admitted, taking a handful of sugar packets out of the bowl on the table. He carefully poured each one into his coffee when it arrived. Jordan watched curiously as he folded each empty packet and set it on his saucer. He stirred the coffee that was more sugar than liquid and tapped his spoon on the edge of the cup before taking a sip. "But I have my work to keep me busy. I take cases up here in New York when there's not enough to do in town."
"I was wondering how you kept busy.”
He chuckled. "Oh, you'd be surprised how much trouble small-town folks get themselves into. That isn't the only reason I stuck around, though."
"Oh?"
Chase hesitated, frowning into his cup. "This is going to sound strange, but I've always felt pulled to Cold Creek. Almost like some magnetic force was keeping me there."
"That doesn't sound strange at all," she said softly. She just hoped the force that was keeping him there was more benevolent than the one that had drawn her in. "Do you know why?"
"My parents are here, of course, but it's more than that." He cringed. "I'm sorry, all we've done is talk about me. What about you, Jordan? What does your family think of you coming here?"
Jordan's expression must have shown her sudden discomfort, because Chase looked mortified. "Oh, I'm sorry. I knew there was an accident, but I thought you might have had other family left."
"It's fine," she insisted. "I had a mother and brother, but they were killed in the accident. Everyone else was distant or passed away from natural causes. Well, everyone except my father, but we're...estranged."
"I'm sorry," he said it so earnestly that she really believed he meant them, unlike all the other passing condolences she had received.
"Thanks," she said, looking down at her hands. "It's nice that you have a good relationship with your parents. Most people don't appreciate their family until it's too late."
Chase reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. His touch was warm and reassuring. "You'll have your own one day," he said with enviable certainty.
"I don't know about that, but…thanks."
He was silent, but he seemed to be holding something back. Finally, he asked, "Are you alright?"
Jordan looked up, startled by the question. "Pardon?"
"Forgive me for the nosy question, but I can't imagine what you must be going through," he said quietly. "Breakups are hard enough, but you don't have any family here, and I'm sure it must be difficult to see Darren parading his relationship with Allison all over town so soon after you split up.”
Jordan didn't know what to say at first. She took a sip of coffee in hopes of clearing the gravel in her throat.
"There I go again," Chase muttered, running a hand through his feathery locks.
"No," she said earnestly, "you didn't offend me. I'm just surprised, that's all. No one has ever asked me if I'm okay like they really wanted to know. It's nice."
He gave her a sympathetic smile, but there was none of the pity that she seemed to inspire even in Hermes. "I meant it. I know you came to Cold Creek in hopes of getting away from whatever happened in your past, and it seems like all you've found is pain. I know I wouldn't be alright if I were you."
"I'm not," she admitted. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "At least, not right now, but I think I will be. People have been kinder than I ever thought. The Danbridges and Mrs. Herrin, especially. I won't pretend it isn't hard seeing Darren with someone else, but it's not like we were together for that long. It wasn't serious or anything."
He gave her a dubious look. "Forgive me, but if I couldn't tell when I was being lied to, I wouldn't be very good at my job."
Jordan looked away. "Okay, it sucks. I fell head over heels in love with him and it kills me that he treats me like a stranger who just ran over his dog. Happy?"
"Not at all," Chase said, taking a sip of his coffee.
Now it was Jordan's turn to give him a look.
"I'm not," he promised. "I won't lie and say that Darren is my favorite person in the world or that I don't think you could do better, but it's a shame that it happened the way it did. There's no accounting for taste, I suppose."
Jordan gave him a confused look an
d he grinned sheepishly. "Okay, so I'm a bit biased, but I can't imagine why he would choose Allison--or anyone else, for that matter--when he could have you."
Warmth crept back into Jordan's cheeks. "You don't mean that."
"I have a reputation for many things, Jordan," Chase said, settling his gaze on her as his tone grew serious, "but saying things I don't mean isn't one of them."
Jordan gulped. She had always known Chase was charming. It was an objective fact she observed from the outside in, like the warmth of the sun or the blueness of the sky. This was the first time she had felt the full effect of that charm firsthand.
"You sure know how to cheer a girl up," she half-teased.
"You wouldn't need cheering up in the first place if I were Darren," he said matter-of-factly. "In fact, he may just have me beaten in every area except taste."
"Now you've crossed the line into flattery.”
His eyes danced. “Is it getting me anywhere?"
A smile tugged dangerously on Jordan's lips as she swirled the vanilla syrup around in her coffee. "I guess it depends on where you're hoping to go."
"If it weren't so late, I'd say back to my place to talk more," he said in a wistful tone. "But it's my responsibility to make sure you get back to Cold Creek by morning--unless you don't have to go back tonight."
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, curious.
"I'm staying at a hotel on the Upper East Side," he replied. "I mean this in the least sleazy way possible, but you're welcome to join me."
Jordan considered it for a moment, unsure if the warning voice inside her head belonged to her or to her mother. "Sure," she said, deciding it was the latter. "I just need to call my friend and let him know not to wait up."
"Great," he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "I'll go settle the tab and we'll hop on the train."
"Sounds like a plan," Jordan said, waiting until he headed to the counter to dial Hermes’ number. When he picked up, she could still hear the pounding beat of house music and the roar of voices in the club. "Hang on, let me go outside," he yelled.
A moment later, the noise of the club died down. "Hey, what's up? Is Matlock keeping his hands to himself?"
"He's being a perfect gentleman, actually," she replied. "I was just calling to let you know I'm not coming back tonight, so don't wait up."
"He's not a perfect gentleman if you're not coming home."
Jordan rolled her eyes. "It's not like that. We're just going back to his hotel to talk."
"Oh, I'm sure," Hermes said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're a witch and he's a defense attorney. You must have so much in common."
"I'm not a witch," she told him for what seemed like the hundredth time. Chase was making his way back over to the table. "Look, I have to go."
"Just be careful," he warned. "And remember, I can be there in the blink of an eye if you need me."
"Not necessary, but I appreciate the sentiment. Have a good night."
"You, too." Click.
Jordan sighed, trying not to dwell on the fact that she had just checked in with a demon for safety. "All set?" asked Chase.
"Yeah, everything's fine," she said, taking his hand as he offered it to help her up. "So, are we really going to take the subway?"
"Sure," he said. "My hotel isn't that far, but I don't think you want to walk all the way in those shoes."
She looked down at the heels she had plans to burn when she got back to town. “Probably for the best."
The train was nearly empty when they got on, and it took her a moment to adjust to the fact that they were really underground. Being near Chase made it hard to feel anxious. After spending the last couple of years on her own, being led around by someone who knew where he was going was a comforting change of pace.
Only two stops later and Chase motioned for her to follow him off the train. He took her hand to help her off the platform.
"What's with that smile?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said. "It's just that my father warned me about all the 'men of the world' I would meet if I left home. I never expected to find chivalry so alive and well."
Chase laughed. "To be fair, Darren and I probably aren't the best representatives of the men of the world. We're just a couple of small-town boys at heart."
"Maybe," she agreed, placing her arm in his as he led her toward a tall building in the midst of giants. The doorman nodded to them as they passed. "Evening, Mr. Wilde.”
"Tom," Chase said with a courteous nod. Jordan barely had time to admire the elegant décor of the lobby before Chase led her over to a glass elevator.
"This doesn't look safe," she said warily as they stepped inside.
"It's fine," he said in a reassuring tone, placing his hand on the small of her back. The doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion. Jordan felt ill and realized Chase was watching her.
“Not a fan of heights?”
“We just don't have many buildings like this in Arkansas."
"I'd imagine not."
The elevator finally stopped and Chase led her to a room not far down the hall. The door opened to a spacious suite that looked more like something a bride and groom would occupy on their wedding night than business trip accommodations.
"One of the perks of the job," he said, evidently noticing her surprise. "They try to schmooze you as much as they can before you go up on the stand."
"It is nice," she said, running her hand over a leather back chair. “Your work sounds exciting.”
"Not as exciting as what you do," he remarked.
Jordan looked up sharply. "What I do?"
"Growing plants," he clarified. "At least you get your hands dirty. What I do is mostly paperwork and finding new ways to delay trial."
"Oh," she said, relieved. “And here I assumed it was all Law & Order.”
"I'm afraid it's not anywhere near that exciting," he said, opening the refrigerator. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Water would be great, thanks."
Jordan chose a spot on the leather couch, hesitant to take the chair. A few minutes later, Chase joined her with a bottle of water for her and one for himself.
"Thanks,” Jordan said, feeling the surreality of the evening set in. When Hermes was involved, there were no coincidences, but she still couldn’t believe she had agreed to go back too Chase’s hotel. She wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else in town and with a demon on speed dial, she had no reason to be, but it still wasn’t the kind of thing she would usually do. Still, she couldn't deny the fact that she had thought less of Darren that evening than she had in months. In fact, the only times she had thought of him at all since the club were when Chase had brought him up.
"Something on your mind?" Chase asked, stretching out. Jordan didn't miss the fact that his arm draped over the couch behind her.
"Not at all," she said, relieved that it was the truth. If Darren had moved on so fast, maybe she should, too. Even if she did have to fake it.
Chase gave her a confused smile. Confusion faded into something softer after a moment and he reached out. At first, she thought it was to caress her cheek or stroke her hair, but instead he wiped something off of her cheek with his thumb.
"Eyelash," he said, holding it up on the tip of his finger. "Make a wish?"
"That's alright," she laughed, feeling like an idiot for assuming he was going to kiss her. "I could do with a little less magic in my life."
Chase blew softly and the eyelash disappeared. "I wasn't going to mention it, but you're the subject of quite a few rumors in town."
Jordan sighed. "I know. Some I'd probably be better off not knowing."
"Probably," he agreed.
"Do you believe any of them?"
“You know how I feel about gossip. Just because strange things happen doesn’t mean there’s not a logical explanation.”
"That's a very diplomatic answer," she said. "One that doesn't really leave me with any more information than I started with."
"Sorry," he said with a laugh. "Force of habit. You really want to know what I think about Stu Herbert and Ellie Jacobs?"
Jordan nodded. She was surprised at just how much she cared what Chase thought about a lot of things.
"I think Stu Herbert hasn't been to church in as long as I've been alive, but he has enough faith in the supernatural to walk the other way when he sees a ladder and spit over his shoulder whenever a black cat crosses his path," said Chase. “That kind of belief can make the mind capable of anything. As for Ellie Jacobs, I never underestimate the power of what a keen eye and a sharp mind can detect, even if it's subconscious. I hope that doesn't offend you."
"Not at all," said Jordan. "Your materialism is kind of refreshing."
It had quite literally taken Darren seeing her power to believe it, but his aversion to the supernatural had always felt more dogmatic than logical. Not that Jordan could blame him after what had happened to his mother. It was easier not to take Chase’s disbelief personally, since he didn’t seem particularly invested one way or another. At least he wasn’t calling her crazy or a charlatan.
"As far as the animals are concerned," he continued, "one or two might be a coincidence, but schnauzers aren't known for being particularly vulnerable to the placebo effect. I'd say you've got a gift, even if it's just a knack for picking out the right herbs."
Jordan smiled, propping her head on her hand. "Another diplomatic answer, Mr. Wilde.”
"I aim to please."
Jordan’s pulse quickened as he leaned in. Unlike before, he followed through on the gesture and pressed his lips against hers. What the kiss lacked in terms of the same magnetic spark she had shared with Darren, it more than made up for in technique. Before she could process anything, Chase’s hands were on her waist and she was pressed against his lean body. The suit did no justice to the sculpted physique underneath.
Chase’s golden hair was soft as her hands rifled through it. His strong hands roved her curves admiringly as he settled on top of her, seemingly as surprised by her reciprocity as she was by his aggression.
"If I'd have thought you'd be this receptive, I would have kissed you a long time ago," he said against her lips.