Chase unlatched the gate and they hopped into the truck bed, moving in comfortable syncopation while they spread blankets. From there they stretched out and sky-gazed for a peaceful time.
“You came prepared.” Offering a teasing smile and a hand gesture, Pyper indicated the blankets and beverages. She wondered about his intent and purpose.
Chase twisted to his side and propped on an elbow. His lips quirked in a way that spoke of tenderness. “This is innocent, Pyp. I keep ’em handy because when I drive, I mull things over. I come up with ideas to explore. When that happens, I find quiet places, out of the way spots where I can just pull over, stop myself and create. This is one of my favorites. Nature is a great inspiration for songwriting.”
Chase returned to lying flat on his back, arms folded beneath his head, face to the blackening bowl of a sky and its dancing pinpricks of light. He sighed deep and contented, which made Pyper feel good—the sound was so appealing.
“Sorry if I seemed a little reactionary.”
“No harm, no foul. You know where I come from, so I understand—but keep your eye on who I am now, OK?”
“I’m trying, and you’re succeeding.”
“Thanks for that. Still, I wonder. There are times when you pull back from me. I have to believe that’s because you’re conflicted about me, and us. But today, especially when we sang together, you let go. That made all the difference.”
“Like lightning bugs and moonbeams.” Pyper whispered the words, falling headlong into moments from her past she wanted to share with Chase. She needed to trust—and display that trust via revelation. “I told you about that moment when I played the piano with Tyler.”
“Yeah.”
“That night, I was so happy I thought I’d burst. I’d never felt so free. I bubbled with so much joy and energy I wanted to run for miles, dance, play, sing—”
Chase laughed low. “I can just picture it, crash.”
Pyper snickered, savored the cool breeze that blew against her skin. “Just after sunset, my mama and Tyler were camped out on the front porch, on that swing we all love so much, and I charged through the door and into the grass just beyond where they sat. That’s when I discovered a brand new miracle. Fireflies. To me, they seemed like such happy creatures. They sparked and danced, just like I wanted to do, so I chased them. Tyler was ready to give me a capped jar, so I could catch one and keep it close by.”
“Your first pet?”
Chase’s teasing grin was irresistible. She drew light fingertips against the stubble of his jaw. “Not hardly. You see, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t trap something so beautiful and hold it prisoner. I wanted them to be free, and happy, just like me. The past held me prisoner, Chase. In some ways it still does. I’m letting fear taint what I see in you, and just like capturing a firefly, that doesn’t strike me as right, or fair.” Pyper snuggled close to his lean, warm side and stared into his eyes. “To me, you’re moonbeams and lightning bugs. You’re warm light and sparks of life that can’t be denied no matter how rough the road you’ve traveled. I’m trying, and I don’t doubt you as much as I doubt…me.”.
“Pyp, your honesty means more to me than I can say.” He gave her a quiet, but pointed look. “Confusion is OK, but you have to get over it. Get over being afraid of me. Get over being intimidated by the call of your heart. Stop being afraid of us.”
Just like that, appearing like sparks set against a rapidly darkening sky, the fireflies came to life. Cooling breezes continued to curve in, chasing away the last of the day’s humidity, tickling her skin with goose bumps.
“No answer to that, huh?”
Pyper faced him square, ready to sputter a defensive reply, but she stopped short. Acting from a knee-jerk response, rather than an honest assessment of her heart, wouldn’t do either of them any good, so she quit while she was ahead, aiming a sassy, charm-packed grin in his direction. “It’s kinda hard to refute the truth when it’s thrown at your feet.”
“Oh, don’t worry, crash. I know how to be gentle. But I also know how to fight for what I want.”
“Meaning me?”
Shimmering white moonlight intensified as darkness built, dancing like diamond dust against the surface of the creek while it bubbled and rolled. Chase’s lips curved—long and full—slow as a lover’s caress and equally as tempting.
“That’s my dream, yes. You. Music. Redemption. Finding a pathway to self-worth that God alone would ever see fit to give me.”
She looked away, overcome by such a straightforward, beautiful declaration.
He shifted to an elbow and lifted her chin until their gazes met. A song named Chase Bradington took flight in her heart. Pyper had to fight the urge to snuggle even closer and surrender fully to a heart-fall she had never seen coming.
“All of that is because of you. Because of what we create when we mix. Want to talk about that?”
So, that was the purpose of their drive. OK. She could deal with that. Sort of.
“Sure. I can be straight up. I’ll tell you flat that I don’t know to react to you.” Her voice was no more than a wavering whisper. “I don’t know what to feel.”
“Actually, I think that’s just the trouble. You know exactly what you feel, but you’re afraid.” Automatically, his thumb moved slow and light against her cheek, soothing away an instant push of agitation at being so completely revealed to a man who carried a very distinct set of emotional dangers. “I don’t blame you for that. I know I’m not pristine. I know I’m not what you’ve been looking for, and I’m for certain nobody’s role model. Still, God’s using me, and He brought me to you. I want to figure out why. I want to figure out where we’re meant to go. Let’s find the answers, Pyper. Together.”
“How?”
“By the two of us agreeing not to hold back anymore.”
She stiffened; in a flash her mood turned sharp and steely, icing her like a winter storm blowing through the Smokeys. “I’m not to be had, Chase. I’m not ever going to fall headlong into a relationship just because it feels good or satisfies a physical itch. You need to know that my beliefs are—”
“Your beliefs are my beliefs, too.” He cut in fast and hard. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about relationship. I’m talking about discovery. Are we good together? Everything inside me says we could be, but there’s only one way to find out. Take the leap. Not physically, that’s the easy part. I’m talking about what’s in here.” He tapped the spot above her heart, eyes steady and strong, gradually creating even richer inroads of trust and understanding. “I’m talking about what we feel for each other. There’s something between us. I want to explore it. Do you? Do you trust me enough for that?”
His question ignited a fire, refined a connection that came alive, sliding around them, bringing them closer and closer to a point of no return.
“Don’t hurt me, Chase Bradington. Please, please don’t hurt me.” She didn’t know if she’d recover if he did. Cricket chirps, the swoosh of dancing long grass punctuated a silence that beat by.
Chase met her gaze without flinching. “I ask the same thing of you.”
“You could hurt me. Badly.”
“Ditto.”
Pyper struggled against all she had known, all she had believed to be true about reformation and battles against evil. And at once she decided. He was worth it. Her answer was resounding—terrifying—because her answer was yes.
“How does all this start, Chase? What do we do?” She shifted to an elbow, looking at him as darkness became a shroud and moonlight sheened the waves of his hair, flashing through his eyes.
“Well, we can start by talking.”
“Talking.”
He nodded. “For starters”—he shifted to an elbow as well, so they were eye-to-eye—“I’d like you to tell me something, and I want you to answer me true.”
“Always. What?”
“Is this…is us…why Darren isn’t part of your picture anymore?”
She met his ga
ze straight on. “Yes. If it lends you any satisfaction, yes.”
“Steady, angel.” He went soft and careful. He gave her a moment to settle. “There’s no satisfaction, just interest and curiosity so the lines between you and me stay straight. That’s all. You keep trying to paint me as the bad guy, and thankfully you keep coming up short. Given your past, it’s self-preservation; I get that, but I think it’s time to take the cue.”
Her heart thundered. Pyper cursed herself for refusing the way he offered himself, appreciating anew the way Chase answered her tense uncertainty with a calm and reassuring attitude.
But that was just the trouble. When it came to Chase Bradington, those lines he talked about were far from straight. Instead, they dipped and curved and swirled with tantalizing appeal—like a thrill ride of sorts.
“I’m confused about Darren’s place in my life…Well, I’m not confused any more, but still, two things. First, he and Anne Lucerne have grown pretty fond of each other, and I think that’s great. Second, even if they hadn’t found a way to each other, I’d never lead him on or be unfair if I’m…if I have…if…”
“I get the idea, sweetheart. You won’t divide yourself. You’re a rare spirit, Pyper Brock. You’re too invested a woman to ever be cavalier about matters of the heart. That’s one of the many things that keeps pulling me to you.”
“You—you’re pulled?”
Chase shook his head, as though marveling at her inability to see through to his truth, to the core of his emotions. “I have a pull, Pyp. A craving. A craving to be worthy, to be everything I can to you. I talked with my sponsor the other day and realized all over again that the black stains on my soul have vanished. Love painted them white. Like a miracle. God’s miracle. A miracle I get to share with you.”
Chase leaned back again and Pyper watched as he spent a few moments studying the sky, tracking the motion of small, hazy clouds that slipped across the face of that vivid, milky moon.
“I know my past scares you. It scares me, too, but I won’t fall back into bad behavior.”
Gentle winds fell alluring as a dream between them. Light and shadow framed him in a tempting silhouette that drove her heartbeat into an urgent tempo.
He turned, meeting her gaze while tender fingertips performed a gentle glide against her cheeks and neck, through the thick, tumbled waves of her hair. “I swear to you, and I promise by all that I am, I’d never…ever…raise a hand against you. Even in my worst fit of temper.”
She nibbled at a tremulous lower lip. “I believe you, Chase. I know that. Really and sincerely, I do.”
What scared her far more was the idea of him sliding back into self-defeating, self-destructive behavior. But by increasing and hard-earned degrees, he won her trust…and uncovered the key that would unlock her heart for good and for all.
“Chase…I…I want you to kiss me.”
He moved slowly, leaning over her as he cupped her cheek; her skin flamed hot, radiant with a warmth that was stirred by desire.
“Oh, sweet girl. Be very careful what you wish for.” He breathed the words and the husky decree lit fire to his eyes.
“You’re in my system, Chase. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why. I just know…I know…”
She faltered, going weak against the will of her heart, the soft blankets that cushioned her back, the smell of late summer, the rustle of leaves and the glimmer of the stars. His thumbs slid soft against the underside of her jaw and she ached, releasing a soft exclamation. Chase dipped his head fast and feasted on lips that yielded to his, the flavor of him blending into the richest form of honey. Her sigh dissolved against his questing mouth.
How could she ever walk away from him now?
The kiss came nowhere near to surrender, but the connection changed everything—every foundation, every need, every wish—until the surrender happened anyway, not of body, but of heart and soul. He was leagues more delicate, more patient and seductive than she had ever imagined—and since meeting him she had imagined much. He claimed her mouth with loving reverence, feeding her spirit with an unquenchable fire. Languor rode against her limbs, leaving her weak but conversely infusing her with strength.
“I need to take you home, Pyper.” He rolled away, but sheltered her in his arms, drawing her tight against his side, just as she hoped, just as she wished, so their connection would continue even as a sensually heated moment cooled. “If I don’t, this time and place will spell trouble. For both of us.”
“But I don’t want you to leave.”
He rolled her to her back once more then propped above her like a fierce and loving protector. He leaned in to gloss kisses against her cheeks, her forehead. “I’m not leaving you. Just taking us to safer ground.”
Nobility layered the words, turning them into a soft caress that slid against the curves of Pyper’s heart. In that moment, she realized she was falling in love—hard and true. All over again, he unlatched the gate of her heart, walking into a place she felt sure God had reserved just for him.
13
Pyper was in heaven. Absolute, unquestionable heaven. What wasn’t to love? She was seated front-row-center at The Stage, with an incomparable view of the District on a Saturday night. She watched from a tall stool as a vibrant collection of bodies, street traffic, loud laughter and eager shouts clamored for attention in and around the legendary honkytonk. The life-tide became a force all its own, rolling along Broadway, weaving past the entryways of dozens of bars, storefronts and restaurants. Best of all, though, were the nightclubs, the historic locales that operated in the shadow of the mighty Ryman, catering to the best up-and-coming musical talent and welcoming home the ones who had made it big. Just beyond those golden gates, street musicians worked hard, some with talent equal to the acts that performed inside. Those hungry artists entertained tourists and locals alike with songs and performances that could stir the soul.
Neon lights flashed, illuminating the window behind a slightly elevated wooden dais where Chase currently wrapped a performance of his classic “Color of Life.” Pyper’s smile spread as she propped her chin in her hand and watched. He absolutely rocked the happy, enthusiastic crowd.
A tall, ponytailed waitress weaved neatly through the packed crowed. Black apron bulging with tips and straws, she approached Pyper’s spot, delivered a cheery wink along with a tall, icy lemon-lime soda. Pyper responded in kind then chugged, continuing to absorb. Nothing here was left to chance. Positioning was critical. Folks on a jaunt through downtown Nashville wandered past, peeked inside, and once they heard the music, they were caught with a hook. The recipe for success here was ages old, and tonight was no different.
She snapped to proper focus when the last chords of Chase’s song faded and he addressed the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, y’all are so kind. Thank you for that wonderful welcome. It’s always an honor to be able to play at The Stage. Standing here, performing at what has to be one of the greatest venues in The District, I feel like I’m at the center of Nashville’s history. Nashville’s heart. I don’t take that lightly.”
Pyper registered the delighted response of the crowd. Take him or leave him, love him or otherwise, there was no denying Chase Bradington knew how to command—and win—a venue. She rejoiced at the thought, giving him snaps of respect.
As if he could read her thoughts, he glanced her way, sent an acknowledging grin before continuing. “For now, to keep the good times going, I want you to help me greet the real star of tonight’s show. Please give it up for Miss. Pyper. Brock.”
Right on cue, Piper lifted from her perch and trotted the pair of steps leading to the stage. In the more private, second-level seating area that rimmed three sides of the bar, she spotted her dad and Kellen Rossiter watching while they leaned against a railing. Smile blooming, she waved to the crowd and acknowledged a few of the folks seated close by. She drifted into the applause and made her way to the spot where Chase stood at a solitary mic stand. Crossing the scarred wooden floorboa
rds she threw another wave toward the house.
At that point she caught Chase’s reaction to her entrée, and her footsteps faltered. Deep, smooth eyes never once left her face; his expression spoke clearly of the words amazement and captivation. He took hold of the mic stand and brought it into position between them, smiling warm. Pyper couldn’t help but be swept straight to him.
“You know,” he began, finally readdressing the crowd, “you can call me an old fashioned southern boy, but there’s something incredibly attractive about the site of a woman who strolls onstage wearing dark blue denim, a pair of worn leather boots and a cowboy hat. Pyper, you are gorgeous.”
Oxygen fled her lungs. What was this all about? While she battled a sensual tremor, Chase tugged her gently to his side and kissed her cheek. His lips slid against her skin like the brushstroke of a feather, and he smelled so good…
For the benefit of the crowd, Pyper continued to smile, but somehow she needed to earn back a bit of control and assert herself. “Well, my goodness. Who here can say charm and gentility have died? Isn’t he the sweetest thing? Thanks so much for the welcome. How y’all doin’? Havin’ a good time tonight?” Cheers flowed in, easing that tense layer of awareness that crept along her shoulders.
Chase resumed strumming his guitar; the band followed his lead. “Folks, I want to tell you a story about the night I met this lady. It was at the Opry. The night her daddy, Tyler Brock, was awarded membership into the performance family.” Cheers and applause rose up. “I was honored to be a small part of that event.”
Pyper cocked a hip and initiated a playful stare-down with her colleague. “Oh, that’s right. The very night you crashed into me and nearly bowled me straight over.”
“Darlin’? I could only hope.” In emphasis, Chase delivered a wicked grin and winked. Pyper’s intellect flew away on fast feet. Meantime, Chase addressed their cat-calling, jovial crowd. “Isn’t she a sassy piece of work? As I was saying, the night we met, we had a discussion about country music and its history. Its love affairs.”
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