A Family Man

by Mindy Neff

  Nor had any man ever looked at her the way Chase did, with fierce sexual longing and absolute determination, as if she were his every heart’s desire. Even in her marriage, she’d clearly been the one who did the wanting, keeping a subconsciously sensual vigil, watching for that subtle switch that would indicate her husband was in the mood.

  With Chase, she didn’t have to wonder. He took her over, dominated her, demanded a surrender she was more than willing to give.

  It was both thrilling and liberating, renewing her faith in her womanhood.

  Her anticipation grew as he lowered his zipper and shed his pants. He had the body of a god. Lean, powerful and hard. Dark hair covered his chest and surrounded his sex, making her ache to touch, to lose herself in his splendid masculinity.

  He came to her then, kneeling between her thighs, running his hands and mouth over every inch of her sensitized skin, slowly, seductively. “You are so beautiful. I want to hold you like this always.”

  She inhaled sharply as his lips gently pressed against her stomach, then moved lower. She had a fleeting thought about the raw emotion in his voice, the reverence, the absolute sincerity, as if she were the most cherished prize a man could ever hope for. But then her mind went blank of everything except the wild explosion of heat that suddenly consumed her. He brought her so far so fast she nearly fainted. Release shuddered through her again and again, yet he gave her no respite, taking her higher and higher on a journey she begged him to never end.

  As sanity flirted with the edges of her mind, she became aware of the hot, turgid length of his manhood pressed against her thigh. Her body burned and suddenly it became of utmost importance to return this incredible gift, to show him a depth of pleasure that would rock his soul as hers had been. She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his thick masculinity.

  His hips bucked and he raised to give her more freedom. “I want you.”

  “I know,” she said, shifting, switching their positions, pressing him back against the rolled arm of the chaise. “But not yet.” She held him in the palm of her hand then placed her lips at his velvet tip.

  His stomach dipped and his breath hissed out. “Oh, Josie.”

  She pleasured him in a way she’d never pleasured a man, guided by instincts, burning passion and the gentle pressure of his hand buried in the thick strands of her hair.

  She poured every bit of her love for him into her actions, her touch, her intimate kisses, telling him without words that he was her hero, telling him just what his sacrifice had meant.

  Unabashedly, she tested his limits…and found them. With a swiftness that made her breath catch in her throat, he lifted her, shifting their positions so she lay flat against the couch. She saw his muscles tremble as he lowered himself over her and buried himself inside her in one determined stroke.

  He filled her completely, to the end of her womb and clear through to her soul, setting off sparks of incredible sensations that burst through her in a powerful, pounding climax. Her long nails bit into his shoulders, seeking an anchor in the turbulent storm as flesh slapped against flesh, as each wave of desire peaked only to be replaced with an even stronger one, as she urged him higher, faster. She rode those waves, and when they finally crested, Josie knew she’d been given that rare, blissful glimpse of paradise.

  “Good heavens,” Josie mumbled when her breath had returned. “In a minute I’m going to have the good sense to be embarrassed about this.”

  “Your good sense is one of the first things I noticed about you, sugar, and I’d take it as a personal insult if you got embarrassed.” His arms tightened possessively around her waist as he pulled her down to lie spoon fashion against the cushions of the couch.

  Josie smiled. “You call it good sense to pick up a total stranger on the highway?”

  “Absolutely. Especially since that stranger was me.”

  She loved his confidence, his damn-the-consequences attitude. Sated, with his arms around her, she felt safe and very special, as though she could be anybody she wanted to be. He had a way of making the real world disappear, of wrapping her in a blanket of euphoria that defied any threat of uncertainty, of the need to present a good front or to worry about the opinion or judgment of others.

  But they couldn’t stay naked and insulated forever. The world would intrude as life marched along its course with the helpless ticking of time. Feelings would get hurt. Hearts would get broken. Duty and honor toward family would still guide the actions and decisions in the world of small-town life. For the lucky, those decisions would bring great joy. For others, a profound sadness.

  “I’m sorry about today,” she whispered, her grip tightening on his arm. “About Vira putting you on the spot like that.”

  “Why?” His open palm made lazy passes along the smooth plane of her stomach. “The family skeletons were bound to come out sooner or later.”

  “But not like that, Chase. I know you were uncomfortable, even hurt.”

  He shrugged, neither agreeing nor denying. “You can’t take on all the world’s problems, sugar.”

  But she would have taken on his, she realized. The instant of dead silence in the boutique had surrounded her as if a pack of hungry wolves had been lurking just out of sight, waiting for an opening to pounce, to shred both body and soul, rip away the fabric of peace in a way that could never be repaired.

  She’d felt exposed by the threat. But not for herself. For Chase.

  “Sometimes I hate small towns…everybody knowing everybody else’s business. It’s like living in a fishbowl.” She felt his arms tighten around her in comfort, yet instead of comfort, she felt despair.

  For an insane moment, Josie’s mind flashed on a picture of what could be a perfect life, a perfect solution. “We could move away. Start over where nobody knows us.” The minute she said the words, she regretted them.

  “No. My business is here. I’ve dumped a lot of money into this place and I plan to build a future. And you’re not a quitter, Josie. Aside from that night you left me high and dry, you’re not a woman who runs at the first sign of trouble.”

  He was right, of course. Although she might have made concessions along the way for the sake of harmony, she’d always faced her adversaries head on. It was just that she was so damned afraid of life intruding, sucking away the bliss she felt right now. She didn’t want the feeling ever to end.

  She turned in Chase’s arms, holding him with a desperation she refused to censor. If he noticed anything amiss, he didn’t comment. Jasmine-scented breezes wafted through the open plantation shutters, whispering over her naked skin. An owl hooted in the night, followed by the desperate, lonely call of a meadowlark seeking his mate. Josie felt a strange sadness building inside her, a premonition of dark shadows lurking.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered. Her throat ached with undefined emotions as he returned her fierce hug.

  “All night, baby,” he agreed. “All night.” He stood and lifted her in his arms. “But this talk about leavin’ town’s got me a little spooked. I think I’ll hedge my bets and get you in my bed.” He grinned down at her. “Under certain circumstances, a man’s not above a little bondage. And I guarantee you those posts are mighty sturdy.”

  Although he teased her with hot words and heady promises, he laid her down against the cool sheets of his bed as if she were made of the most precious, fragile glass. His deep blue eyes held a tender, quiet sense of understanding as if he’d looked into her soul and seen every secret, every triumph and every failure.

  And when at last he made love to her, there were no bonds to restrain her, no frenzied aggression to possess or hold or brand—only a poignant gentleness that nearly brought her to tears.

  When Chase woke up the next morning he was alone. “Not again,” he groaned. “I should have gone with my instincts and tied that woman up.” Muscles tensed, gut clenched, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  That was when he heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s laughte
r. It was like incredibly soothing music, pouring a heady sense of well-being through his charged body. He hadn’t realized the thought of Josie walking out of his life would affect him so violently. Last night, with her impulsive suggestion of moving away, she’d given him hope that they might share a future. It was a tenuous hope, but he grasped it like a skydiver grips the cord of a parachute.

  For too long he’d been empty and hadn’t even known it. He felt as if he’d been drifting all these years, waiting for something, yet not knowing just what.

  And now he’d found it. On a lonely highway, some four years back, with a woman whose passions ran deeper than the murky waters of the bayou, who wouldn’t think of asking anything for herself, yet would give the world to anyone else who asked.

  She had spirit and incredible courage. He knew she could take care of herself perfectly fine, yet he wanted to apply for the position, keep her by his side, fill this old Victorian house with laughter and love, do as good a job raising his son as James Fowler had done with him.

  And now that she’d come to him, openly, freely, he figured he just might get his wish.

  Chase was sure he had at least a hundred things to do today, but he couldn’t remember a single one of them except for his need to see Josie. He felt full, bursting almost. He had a family. A son. A woman who was all his dreams wrapped up in one tidy, beautiful package.

  He showered and dressed, then grabbed a mug of coffee on his way out the door. Josie was sitting on the porch steps, watching as J.T. chased a frog in the dew-drenched grass.

  “Good morning.” He bent down to press his lips against her glossy mouth. Her skin smelled of her signature perfume—Escape.

  “Good morning.”

  “I’m going to have to buy you a new perfume,” he said darkly.

  Her eyes widened. “Why? You don’t like it?”

  “It smells great. Sexy. It’s the name I object to. I don’t like the idea of you escaping, sugar, which is exactly what I thought had happened when you weren’t in my bed this morning.”

  She seemed almost embarrassed and that made Chase smile. “J.T. gets up early,” she explained, looking everywhere except at him.

  Her eyelashes, naturally dark, were enhanced by mascara. A subtle blending of brown shadow brought out the vivid green of her eyes. She was one sexy, well put together lady. He sat down beside her on the porch steps. “I’m glad you’re still here. If you hadn’t been, you can be sure I’d have tracked you down. Then I would have followed through on that fantasy I told you about.”

  “Chase! Hush!”

  He laughed at her heightened color and cocked his brow. “You’re thinking about the possibilities, aren’t you? If pressed, I imagine I could rustle up a scarf or two.”

  “You are bad.”

  “That’s not what you said last night,” he whispered, unable to resist the lure of her delicate earlobe.

  J.T. caught sight of them and squealed, his little legs pumping as he charged toward the porch. “Go see airplanes now? Please?”

  Chase had to abandon the sensual temptation of Josie’s delicate skin as J.T. hurled himself into his arms at full toddler speed. “Whoa there, sport.” He shifted the child on his knee, loving the unique, little boy smell that surrounded him. “What’s your hurry?”

  “Mama said we haf’ta wait. Are we done waiting?”

  Chase looked at Josie for clarification, but his heart nearly melted as he felt J.T.’s little palm inch up the side of his cheek, forcing his gaze back. He looked into the child’s solemn blue eyes. His own eyes.

  “I mind real good. And I don’t touch nuffin.”

  Chase could tell J.T. was repeating part of a lecture Josie had obviously given him about how little boys should conduct themselves at an airport. He grinned, resisting the urge to hug the child fiercely. “So you want to go see my planes?”

  “Yep.” Innocent blue eyes danced with barely contained excitement. “But just for two minutes cuz Mama has ta do lots of busywork.”

  “Two minutes, huh?” He caught J.T.’s swinging foot before it had a chance to accidentally connect with any delicate parts, amazed at how the kid-size Reebok fit in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know if that’s enough time. How about if we make it four minutes and we’ll talk Bubba into throwing in a carton of doughnuts in the bargain.”

  J.T. seemed to calculate the additional time, decided it was even better and looked at Josie hopefully. “’Kay, Mama?”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked Chase.

  “Sugar, there’s one trait all pilots have in common. We love to show off our airplanes.”

  Josie leaned against the metal hangar door and watched as Chase patiently pointed out all the highlights of the brightly colored airplanes to his son.

  His son.

  Lord, watching them together, it was so blatantly obvious that they were related it made her ache. By now, the majority of the town would be talking about J.T.’s “uncle.” Vira would see to it. How soon would it be before someone decided to probe deeper?

  J.T., his small hands clasped behind his back, followed Chase’s every step, trying his best to mimic the man who was fast becoming his hero.

  The attachment had grown too strong to break. Someone was probably going to get hurt. And she had an idea it might not just be her son.

  She tore her gaze away from Chase and J.T. as Junior Watkins strolled into the hangar. “Ya got a phone call,” he said.

  Chase—who’d lifted J.T. so the child could touch the propeller of the plane—turned at Junior’s announcement and headed in their direction.

  “Not you, boss. Phone’s for Josie.”

  “For me?” Who in the world would track her down here? She felt a punch of guilt, like a teenager who’d been caught sneaking out the window in the middle of the night.

  “Yeah. It’s Mary Alice Temple. You can use the extension over there by the workbench.”

  Josie rushed into the cool shade of the hangar. She had to reach around dismantled engine parts to get to the phone. “Mary Alice?”

  “Lord, Josie, I’m sorry to bother you,” Mary Alice said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Mattie called. I guess they’ve been looking for you all over town and Mattie figured I’d be the one to know your whereabouts.”

  Josie’s heart and stomach changed places. “Who’s been looking for me?” All over town? My Lord, she didn’t even want to consider those consequences.

  “Leroy. He’s had another stroke—”

  “But I just saw him yesterday.” And he’d looked bad, she remembered.

  “It happened after supper. But calm down. It was a mild one. He’s asking for you, though, and Mattie seems to think it’s fairly urgent.”

  “Okay, I’ll—”

  “There’s one more thing I’m supposed to pass on.”

  “What?” Josie could hear the hesitation and curiosity in her friend’s voice.

  “Mattie said you’re to be sure to bring Chase Fowler with you. She was adamant about that.” The Alexanders’ maid didn’t often get adamant about anything, but when she did, it was best to heed her words.

  It took a moment for Josie to find her voice. Her gaze cut to Chase. He stood a few feet away, holding J.T. in his arms, a concerned look on his face. She turned her back to him. “What’s going on, Mary Alice?”

  “I don’t know, kiddo. I thought maybe you could tell me.” When Josie didn’t answer right away, Mary Alice said softly, “You know I’m here for you. Anytime.”

  Yes. Josie knew Mary Alice was a friend she could always count on. “We’ll get together soon. I promise.”

  “Okay. And there’s one more, really small thing.”

  Josie didn’t like that tone. It reminded her of the time Mary Alice had talked her into going on a blind date with Bud’s cousin—and neglected to tell her that Harvey Penter was three inches shorter than Josie, had gross pimples all over his face and an obnoxious penchant for trying to imitate an
octopus. “How small, Mary Alice?”

  “I called your mother.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes. And I’m so sorry. I swear to God, I prayed He’d add three inches of fat to my thighs as penance for that awful blunder.”

  Josie laughed despite the circumstances. “Your thighs are safe, Mary Alice. If the situation was reversed, I’d have called your mom, too.”

  “Bless your heart. Call me soon, hear?”

  “I will.”

  Josie hung up the phone and turned to Chase. One of his dark brows was raised. Seeing the gesture, J.T. tried his best to imitate it.

  “Your friend called to talk about her thighs?” Chase asked.

  Josie shook her head. “Leroy had another stroke.” She watched him carefully, noticing the barest hint of muscles tightening in the forearm that so easily held her son.

  “You should go to him then.”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her damp palm against her jeans. “But he wants to see you, too.”

  Carefully, with great control it seemed, Chase set J.T. on his feet. “I’m busy today.”

  “Chase, he’s had another stroke.”

  “So you said.” His fingers absently stroked the top of J.T.’s head, his expression closed.

  “Evidently this is important. Any added stress or agitation can’t be good for him.”

  “Still pleading good old Leroy’s case, huh, sugar? You ought to know by now I don’t bow to guilt.”

  She didn’t want to coerce him by guilt. But she did want him to see the side of Leroy that she knew. The good side. When a person stared death in the face, he generally starting thinking about the people he owed amends to. She had an idea that was part of Leroy’s purpose. For some reason, it seemed very important to her that Leroy and Chase make amends.

  On the other hand, there would be a lot less speculation if she showed up at Leroy’s bedside alone, pleading ignorance about Chase Fowler’s whereabouts. To bring him with her would be tantamount to advertising their close relationship, leaving her wide-open for questions she’d just as soon not have to answer.