“Tell me about the guy you last dated.” He was sitting next to her on the couch and moved to stretch out. “And come here.”
She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat but came as asked.
“Guess I don’t need that blanket,” she said as she settled in next to him. “You’re hot enough for both of us. And yes, I know how that sounds.”
He smiled at her petulant tone. She wedged herself between the couch and him, and he wrapped his arm around her. Her palm resting over his heart, her cheek on her hand, she pulled in a contented breath. Contented, despite her trying her damnedest to resist him—or at the very least to keep him at arm’s length.
He liked her here in his arms, her breasts pressing his chest, her breath tickling the hand that stroked her arm. He was aware that the trade-off for her being here was that she wasn’t with her family. He didn’t care. That might make him a selfish bastard, but in his defense, he hadn’t seen or talked to Mimi in years and they’d seen her mere days ago.
“Who was he?” he repeated, curious to hear about the imaginary guy he’d concocted. In his mind Mimi’s most recent ex had a protruding gut and did nothing but drool in front of his PlayStation while drinking cheap beer.
“Why do you want to know so badly?”
Because he wanted to know who he was up against, but he wasn’t admitting as much. So instead he said, “Humor me.”
“Gerard Randall. He’s an environmental specialist for Yore Corp, a corn-processing plant south of Bigfork. I met him at a conference. We dated for eight months before we both admitted it wasn’t working. We cut our losses and moved on.” One of her slight shoulders lifted in a shrug.
Chase felt his mouth turn down. He liked his own story better. This Gerard Randall guy sounded moderately successful—not that Mimi would ever stoop to date the guy in Chase’s imagination—and their split sounded amicable. Though that news was good. He didn’t want her brokenhearted, tossed aside.
Like you tossed her aside.
“What about you? How come you don’t have a wife and children?”
“My career keeps me busy,” he answered automatically. It was the truth, but an exaggerated one. He wasn’t too busy for a relationship. He hadn’t found anyone he wanted to pursue.
“That answer was canned.” She lifted her face to look at him and for a moment his breath snagged in his lungs. Not at her astute observation, but at her sheer beauty.
“You’re so beautiful.” He stroked her cheek with the pads of his fingertips. “I always thought so, but you’ve become more beautiful.”
“Nice try. Who was she?”
“Who?” His brow crinkled.
“I told you who I last dated. It’s your turn!” She poked him in the stomach.
“The beautiful comment won’t save me that fate?”
“Nope.” She overenunciated and popped the p.
“Darla McMantis.”
Mimi squinted one eye. “Did you make that up? That sounds made-up.”
“We were working on a don’t-text-and-drive initiative for high schoolers at the beginning of this year. She’s on the school board and wanted a face for the campaign. Mine.”
“I’ll bet,” Mimi interjected, sounding jealous enough to make him smile.
“After we completed the plans, she asked me out for a drink. That drink was followed by a few dinners and two professional functions where she stood in as my date. In April she broke up with me, ironically, via text message.”
“Hopefully not while driving,” Mimi quipped.
“To be honest, I wasn’t aware we were officially dating. I didn’t think we were serious enough to ‘break up.’”
“But you were serious enough to sleep with her.”
“Were you sleeping with Gerard?”
They watched each other in a silent standoff before Mimi looked away. “I guess it’s hard to find the person you want to spend forever with.”
Hard to find them, or hard to hold on to them?
She laid her head back onto her hand. A few beats passed while he listened to her breathe, feeling protective of her—responsible for her.
“If my reelection campaign takes a turn and the spotlight finds you...” With the arm already wrapped around her, he gave her a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let it touch you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise if it does touch you, I’ll do everything in my power to extract you from the conversation. You don’t deserve any of this. Hell, that was the main reason...” He fell silent, opting not to finish the thought he’d started.
“That was the main reason for what?” She lifted her head, the dent between her eyebrows warning him to tell her the truth or face her wrath.
“Like back then, I’d never ask you to be a part of my world now. To sacrifice what you believe in, what you love, to stand at the side of a man who’s an oil tycoon first and a politician second.” He let out a dry chuckle. “That must sound like your worst nightmare.”
Correction: that wasn’t irritation on her face. Mimi was pissed.
“First off, Chase Ferguson—” she punctuated each word by stabbing his breastbone while her eyes drilled into him “—you are a man with a heart and soul. A good man, your choice in women notwithstanding.” A dig he let her have since she was right. Women always wanted something he wasn’t willing to give, or were only there for the arm candy he provided. While he found neither of those situations objectionable, they didn’t add up to a very flattering relationship record.
“Secondly,” she continued, not through defending his honor, “you’re a businessman and a politician. A damn good one if what I uncovered online can be believed.”
“Uncovered? What did you uncover?”
Her face pinked as her gaze bounced around the room—landing everywhere but on him. He’d bet his bank account she hadn’t meant to say that last part. He physically turned her chin and forced her guilty, dark eyes back on him.
“Mimi Andrix, did you Google me?”
“When I received that letter out of the blue—that impersonal letter—I was curious. I vowed not to go further than the city’s website, but I clicked through a few of those search pages and...”
Her cheeks burned red.
“And?” He prompted.
She licked her lips before admitting, “I found an interesting website.”
* * *
The heat of embarrassment burned Miriam’s face. Admitting she’d dug up information on Chase like a besotted highschooler was humiliating.
“A website about me?” he asked, clearly bemused.
“Yes.”
“What was on it?” He mashed a decorative pillow under his neck to hold his head up so he could properly interrogate her. “Were there photos?”
“Yes, egomaniac. And...stories.”
“Stories?” One eyebrow arched high on his forehead.
“Fictional ones.” She covered her eyes with one hand. “They were so bad. The worst fan fiction ever. About how she dreamed of you and her...” She moved her hand to gesture. “Together.”
A rough rumble of laughter shook his chest, jostling her. She opened one eye to find him still laughing, throat bobbing, and was that...yes, she believed it was. She swiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He’d laughed himself to tears.
“That’s...” He swiped his own eyes and sniffed. “I don’t know what that is. Damn funny.”
He was so appealing when he was this relaxed.
“At first I thought maybe she was a jilted ex-girlfriend, but then it was clear she’d never met you.”
“What tipped you off?” He grinned, loving every second of this.
“She brought up having sex with you on a horse and—”
That brought forth another crack of laughter as fresh tears sprang to his
eyes. She laughed with him, the hardy, happy sound as infectious as he was. He recovered quickly, rolling toward the back of the couch and wedging her between the leather and his hard, warm body.
“How do you know that isn’t true?” His tone was sober, his eyes narrowed and assessing.
“Other than you don’t seem the type to attempt sex on a horse,” she said with a small giggle. “The day I invited you horseback riding.”
His gaze swept to one side. “How come I don’t remember that?”
“I asked if you wanted to go riding and you said you didn’t trust a beast that large with your bodily safety. It stood out in my mind because you were from Texas. I thought all Texans were brought up riding horses.”
“I remember that conversation now. Horses are smart. I imagine they don’t always like to be ridden. And once I’m up there, there’s only one way to go.”
“Down.” She ran a fingertip along his bristled jawline. “They are smart animals.”
“On that we agree. Horses are very smart and deserve our respect.”
“So, we’re on the same side of the fence on one more topic,” she whispered against his lips. He was close enough to kiss, his delicious weight pressing her deeper into the couch’s cushions. “Does that bring our grand total to three?”
“I can think of one more.” He took her lips hostage, making out with her long and slow. One hand gripped her hip before sliding under her shirt to tickle her bare skin.
Her mind melted, her body doing a good job of following suit, as he made love to her mouth with his. He wasn’t wrong. Sex was another topic both their bodies and minds agreed on.
They’d always been physically compatible. They’d proven it time and time again during many summer nights past and they were proving it again in the winter wonderland of his massive mansion. Earlier he’d claimed her against the wall. Now he seemed bent on reclaiming her.
She couldn’t think of a single reason to argue.
* * *
“This is incredible.” Miriam lounged in the hot tub, bubbling water tickling her bare breasts and liquefying her sore muscles.
Chase had done a good job of liquefying them earlier today—a few times.
He sat on the other side of the round tub—in-ground like the pool—and let out a long, gruff hum. A hum of satisfaction and relaxation. She liked being with him—yes for the sex, which was amazing but also for the moments that followed. She hadn’t been apart from him for more than a handful of minutes today and she didn’t care to leave his side until she officially walked out of this mansion.
Crazy? Possibly. But she could handle a brief affair with him. She was no longer a carefree twenty-three-year-old whose life had been overwhelmed by the sexy city boy from Texas. She was a grown, independent, responsible woman with people who counted on her—both professionally and personally. She was old enough and wise enough to understand that what had kept them apart years ago was alive and well. Their interests were as different as a Dallas oil field and a Montana nature preserve.
If, say, they had a shot at coupledom—an insane thought, but she allowed herself to have it—it’d mean her moving to Dallas and leaving her family and her beloved job behind or Chase moving to Montana where he’d...what? Run for mayor here? Take a seat on the county board? Fall back on his law degree and hang a shingle in town?
It was preposterous, the idea that Chase the famous mayor and oil tycoon would move away from his beloved state to live in the wilderness.
They were doomed.
Which made things easier. Back when they were together she hadn’t known they were doomed. Or rather, she’d been the last to know. Knowing up front meant no castle-building on the clouds. She could enjoy what they had at face value and walk away with some really great memories.
“It is incredible.” His agreement interrupted her deep thoughts and she opened her eyes to find his closed, his head resting back, arms spread out and resting on the edge of the hot tub.
She saw no need to share her thoughts with him. With anyone other than herself. And that certainty—along with knowing they were doomed—also felt really, really good.
She would let any thoughts of what happened next between them rise and swirl and disappear like steam from the hot tub. But she wouldn’t deny herself the treasure of being with him while they were stranded.
Later, when Chase took her hand, she allowed him to lead her upstairs and into his bedroom.
Sixteen
The following day was nothing like the one that preceded it. Rather than dance around each other and spend most of the day naked, they bundled up and headed outside.
The snow was barely falling now, and Miriam had spotted a snowplow making slow progress through one of the neighborhoods at the base of the hill. They were still under several feet of snow, and the temperature remained stubbornly frigid, but at least the snow had stopped. People were starting to emerge from their homes, and from the vantage point of the upstairs library this morning she’d spotted a few brightly colored parkas dotting the whitewashed landscape.
“Ready?” Chase positioned the round plastic disc on a hill at the side of the house and held it steady for her to climb on.
“You first,” she said, tipping her chin.
“No, thanks.” He twisted the toboggan deeper into the snow.
“Chicken.”
“Sticks and stones, Mimi. Get your very fine rear on this sled.”
“It’s a toboggan.”
“Stop delaying.” His dark hair ruffled in the breeze, his ears bright red. He’d torn his hat off a few minutes ago when he’d gone searching for the toboggan, or sled as he called it, complaining he was hot. Only Chase Ferguson could be hot in fifteen-degree weather.
“After shoveling, you deserve to have some fun. Maybe we should go down together.”
His eyes were uncooperative slits, but he surprisingly agreed. “Okay, fine. Take hold of this while I put my hat back on.”
She squealed her way to the bottom of the hill, nestled against his front while he sat behind her. When they came to a landing at a cluster of trees she was glad they hadn’t mowed into, she’d collected a pile of snow between her legs.
“Again?” Warm lips touched her cheek. “Or do you want to go inside and warm up?”
“Again!” She couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t done this in years. This was too fun not to continue.
They went again, and again, until her legs were jelly from climbing the hill and Chase had flat out given up. He lied and said he was making snow angels, but she could tell he was taking a beat to catch his breath. After their final climb up the hill, he leaned the toboggan against the garage and they shut out the cold, peeling off their snow-packed outfits before dashing inside to start a fire.
Once they were dressed in comfy clothes, fire lit and mugs of soup for both of them, Miriam’s nose finally began to thaw.
“Told you I’d make a mountain man out of you yet.”
“You’re very persuasive.” Chase finished his mug of soup and set it aside, scrubbing his hands down his legs and then holding his palms in front of the fire. “I miss Texas. Shoveling is for the birds.”
“I’m sure if you lived here you’d be able to find someone to shovel for you.” When he looked over at her, his brow a contemplative mar, she said, “I mean if you visit here again. In the winter. It doesn’t always snow this much.”
She pressed her lips together to stop the spillway of words.
“Speaking of, I need to find someone to do just that,” he said. “The city will take care of the street, but this long driveway is too much work for one shovel.”
“I have snow-removal guys on speed dial for my job. I can call one later on today.”
“Or tomorrow.” He locked his eyes on hers. “No sense in beating the street plow.”
“Right.”
The same niggling, disturbing sensation of no time having passed occurred while she and Chase loaded the dishwasher. He rinsed her mug and took the spoon from her hand while she’d dropped in the detergent pod. He shut the device and pressed Start, and just like that, they’d perfected the dance in the kitchen without a word.
Like a couple who knew each other.
Like a couple who hadn’t been apart for ten years.
* * *
In his room that night, she opted to leave her yoga pants and T-shirt on, though she did lose the sweatshirt. When she climbed beneath the covers, however, he snatched the blankets off her.
“What’s this?” He gestured to her wardrobe.
“I’m cold!”
“You won’t be with me next to you.” He gestured to himself. “Human heater.”
“By your own admission, you spent most of this year not sleeping next to a naked woman—” she sat up and gathered the blankets over her body “—wouldn’t want to spoil you unnecessarily.”
“Low blow, Andrix.” He tugged off his sweatshirt and dropped his jeans and she pulled the blankets to her nose and admired his rock-hard, sculpted, beautiful body.
He tossed his clothes over a chair and she found it cute. From the outside, he appeared to be a neat freak yet he never truly made his bed and always tossed his clothes instead of folding or hanging them. It made him somehow more approachable. More relatable.
On her side, he lifted the blankets. “Scoot.”
“This is my side!” she argued but scooted.
“Excuse me. This is my bed, interloper. Do as I say.”
Once under the covers, he looped one arm around her waist and shoved the other beneath his pillow. On his side, he faced her, his eyes heavy.
A Snowbound Scandal (Dallas Billionaires Club Book 2) Page 11