Mrs. February (The Calendar Girl Duet Book 2)

by Karen Cimms

  Babe. I sighed. Maybe he should just let go and let me tumble down the mountain.

  The wheel moved slightly, then locked into place. It hurt the bottom of my foot to put all my weight against it, but moments later, Chase lifted me out of the car the rest of the way. His feet went out from under him under my full weight and the soggy ground, and I came crashing down on top of him. He lost his grip on me, and I started to roll underneath the car. I shrieked. He dived after me and tugged until I rested against him, his arms tightly wrapped around me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, panting. “Shit. Are you okay?”

  I could feel his chest rising and falling beneath me.

  Shivering, I shook my head. “Fine. Sorry.”

  Sirens blared in the distance. Without letting me go, he stood, then helped me up. Slowly, we made our way up the embankment and onto the road.

  In the harsh light of his high beams, he looked me over.

  “No bumps, bruises? Did you hit your head? The steering wheel?”

  I shook my head. “Just the belt digging into my neck is all. I’ll probably have a bruise, but I’m okay.”

  He turned me around as if he didn’t believe me, then turned me back to face him.

  “Can you walk?” Stiffness seeped back into his voice. When he looked down and saw I had no shoes on, he frowned. Without giving me time to answer, he picked me up, then deposited me next to the rollback.

  “There’s a sweatshirt behind the seat,” he said, his voice now gruff. “You’re soaked.” After helping me climb into the rollback, he went to wait for the approaching cruiser and fire truck.

  Inside the dry cab, I peeled off my wet tank top and bra, then slid the sweatshirt over my head. It was big enough to be a dress on me, but I had enough self-control to refrain from removing my wet shorts and panties, although to be honest, being this close to Chase made me think about that long and hard. Even terrified, cold, and shaking like a leaf, when he had put his arms around me, I had felt safe.

  My heart was still pounding, but it was no longer from fear.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Red and blue lights reflected off the wet road, the rain-drenched leaves, and into the cab of Chase’s tow truck. I draped my wet tank top and bra over the air vents, then pulled my legs up into the sweatshirt to try and stay warm. The air conditioner was blasting, and I had no idea how to turn it off or even turn it down. I didn’t want to touch anything. Instead, I sat and shivered.

  While Chase and the firemen went to work stabilizing my car so he could pull it up the embankment, the police officer questioned me about what happened. That took about two minutes. There wasn’t a whole lot to explain; it had happened in the span of about two seconds.

  Chase climbed back into the rollback to jockey it into position to pull my car up the embankment. He glanced at my clothes, then flicked off the air conditioner and cranked up the heater. I thanked him, but it seemed we were back to business as usual. His response was little more than a grunt.

  Once the car was secured onto the rollback, he climbed back in, water making rivulets off the bright yellow rubber of his raincoat.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked.

  “Zac called me. He said you ran to the store for a few things but never came home.”

  If I’d known Chase would come running when I had seemed to disappear, I might have driven off the side of the road months ago. “So you went looking for me? But this isn’t near the store. I went to the Millers’ to drop off the money from the fundraiser, and I was on my way back when the tree came down.”

  He shrugged. “When I couldn’t find you, I called the house to see if you’d made it home. Izzy said you might have gone to the Millers’.”

  “I—Thank you. I hope I didn’t take you away from something important.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He spoke in a monotone, directing his answers to the rearview mirror, the side mirror, and the road in front of us. When he frowned again at my clothes on the dashboard, I rolled them into a ball at my feet. My bare feet. My shoes, purse, and the groceries were still in my car, riding behind us on the rollback.

  Chase had always been on the quiet side—the strong, silent type—but it had always been a comfortable silence. Not anymore. This black hole was not comfortable, and the more stressed I grew, the more I talked.

  “I should call the kids, let them know you rescued me.” I smiled, but since he wasn’t looking at me, he didn’t see that.

  “I already did.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

  The windshield wipers were having a rough time keeping up with the rain, and we moved along slowly.

  “It’s really coming down out there. Do you think it might let up soon?”

  He grunted.

  “I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow. I was hoping to hang the wash out.” Good one, Rain. I was certain he no longer cared what I did with my wash.

  “I have groceries in the car. Don’t let me forget to get them out. Do you think the ice cream melted?” I rolled my eyes at my stupid question. Of course it had melted.

  “Poor Zac. I bought his favorite, rocky road—yours, too.” Apparently I thought he needed to be reminded of that as well.

  “Hmm.”

  I gave up and stared out my window. “Look,” I said after several silent minutes had passed, “if you’d rather not deal with me or my car, you can just drop it off at Foxy’s. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “I’ll bet,” he mumbled under his breath.

  I bit my tongue rather than take the bait.

  I had assumed he would take me home first, but we rattled past Foxy’s and straight on to the Sunoco. I waited quietly in the cab while he offloaded the car and carried my groceries to his pickup, stopping to dump the melted ice cream. I climbed out, ran over, and climbed into the front seat. He climbed in beside me and started the truck.

  “Did you get my shoes and my purse?”

  He threw the pickup back into park, as if that of all things was the last straw of this strange, unpredictable evening.

  “Thank you. I would have gotten them,” I said when he got back in, water running all over the seats.

  He just grunted.

  We drove in silence. I stared out the window. If he didn’t want to talk, then I’d keep my mouth shut. I sighed loudly. From the corner of my eye, I caught him glance in my direction. That might have been the first time he’d looked at me since pulling me out of the car.

  He pulled into the parking lot of the SuperSaver.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’ll be right back.” He left the engine running and ran across the parking lot. I lowered the heat, which had been blasting for what I assumed was my benefit, and checked the clock. Almost ten. He emerged a few minutes later and handed me the bag as he climbed back in: rocky road ice cream.

  “You’re a good dad.”

  “Hmm.”

  He stared straight ahead. I tried to look at him without turning my head. Was it possible that he was even better looking than when we’d first met? All the feelings I’d unsuccessfully tried to stuff away came rushing back. I missed him. Terribly.

  Given how cold he was now, other than those few moments when he’d pulled me out of the car, I doubted if he still had any feelings for me. Would the kids have told me if he was dating again? They probably wouldn’t even know. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t bring anyone around unless it was serious. Even if he did and the kids didn’t want to hurt my feelings, I think it would have been hard for them to keep a secret like that. Especially Zac. With the wisdom of a boy who was only four years old, he believed Chase and I would eventually get back together. It’s the dream most kids of divorce probably have, especially the ones who never saw their parents argue.

  “Chase?”

  I assumed his grunt meant he’d heard me.

  “Do you hate me so much that you can’t even look at me?”

  His jaw tigh
tened, and his mouth formed a thin, straight line.

  “This is ridiculous. You came all the way out in this miserable weather to find me, yet you’ve barely said two words to me. You won’t even look at me! You know, you loved me once. Am I so horrible now that you can’t stomach me?” My voice broke. I should have dropped it, but I never did know when to let go.

  “Answer me! Are you such a coward you can’t even look at me?”

  He slammed on the brakes so hard the truck started to skid. Because of the way I had turned to face him, the seat belt locked against my already sore neck. He swung the truck onto the side of the road and threw it into park. I’d done it now. He was going to make me walk the rest of the way home.

  When he unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the bench seat, I expected him to open my door and shove me out. Instead, he pushed the button to release my seat belt, grabbed me, and pressed me against the door. His mouth covered mine, hard. He kissed me in a way I hadn’t been kissed in such a long time and with such urgency that my heart raced. I wanted to reach for him, touch his face, but he had me pinned so that I couldn’t move. By the time he let go, I tasted blood.

  He stared into my eyes for the briefest of seconds. Then just like that, he slid away and gripped the steering wheel. As dark as it was, I could see the tension in his hands in the reflection from the dashboard lights.

  My heart pounded against my ribs. Okay, he didn’t hate me—but what the hell was that?

  “That’s why I can’t look at you, okay?” he growled. “That’s why. So just shut up and stop asking.”

  I did shut up, but I don’t know if it was because he told me to or because I was in shock. When he pulled into the driveway, he didn’t even bother to shift the car into park. He just looked out his window, waiting for me to get out. I should have thanked him again, but I still couldn’t speak. If I opened my mouth, I might cry, and what good would that do? I’d hoped I was done with all the crying, but in just a few minutes, he’d brought it all back again.

  I grabbed my purse, my shoes, and the bag with the ice cream, then climbed out of the truck and ran for the house. It wasn’t until I was safely inside that I realized I’d forgotten not only my groceries but half my clothes.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I was climbing out of the shower, when I heard the familiar sound of Chase’s truck pulling away. He must have returned with my groceries.

  “I put everything away,” Zac informed me as I came out of the bathroom, “even the cold stuff.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. You’re my hero, you know, and I think heroes deserve rocky road ice cream even when it’s two hours past their bedtime.”

  He scrambled into his chair at the kitchen table while I pulled the ice cream from the freezer.

  “Did Emily’s mother come to pick up Izzy?”

  Zac nodded. “Yup. Are you okay now, Mommy?”

  “I am thanks to you. I was just cold from getting caught in the rain. Thanks for sending out the search party.”

  He shrugged his little shoulders. “I just called Daddy. He’s the hero.” His hopeful smile tugged on my heart.

  I gave him a sad smile.

  “That’s right. Dad’s a hero, but so are you. In fact, he bought you this reward.”

  Zac had Chase’s smile: slow to begin, starting with the tiniest curl at the ends of his mouth, then spreading to his eyes and across his face. He was going to be as handsome as his father. I sat down beside him while he ate, retelling the rescue, which he thought was very cool and was sad to have missed.

  Then I tucked him into bed. On Saturdays, I’d often drop Zac off at the restaurant. Mom would give him a dollar to fill the napkin dispensers and sweep the kitchen. Little things that made him feel important. It would probably be hard waking him in the morning, but I knew how much he looked forward to it.

  “Remember, you promised to help Mimi at the shop tomorrow, so go right to sleep.”

  He gave me a hug and kissed my cheek, and I held him tightly, wondering how much longer I’d be getting those hugs. He was a sweet boy, but he’d eventually grow to the point that he’d want little to do with me. I was hoping that period would be short-lived. I’d been lucky to have a special relationship with Izzy so far, which I knew wasn’t always the case for mothers and daughters. It might have been because we were only seventeen years apart. I might have totally fucked up my life, but I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant not having my kids.

  Still keyed up after my ordeal, despite the hot shower, I took a glass of wine to the bedroom, hoping it would relax me enough to sleep.

  But all I could think of was that kiss. How long had it been since I’d been kissed like that? I curled my arms around the pillow that used to be Chase’s, wishing it still smelled like him.

  It was no use. I couldn’t sleep.

  I switched on the bedside lamp and picked up my phone. A quarter to twelve. Chase had probably been asleep for a while now, especially since he opened the station on Saturday mornings. I tossed the phone on the bed, went back to the kitchen, and refilled my wine glass.

  “Screw it.” I picked up the bottle, checked on Zac—out like a light—and carried the wine back to my room. There was only one other way I was going to manage to get to sleep, and since he no longer shared my bed, I would have to rely on the rest of the chardonnay.

  Not five minutes later, I picked up the phone again. I was just tipsy enough to do something foolish.

  If you get this in the morning, delete without reading. But if you get it now, at 12:18? That kiss. Could there be more?

  The screen glowed in my face as luridly as the unsent message. It was crazy. All I was going to do was humiliate myself. Considering that Chase refused to look at me, he wouldn’t have noticed if my entire body had turned purple when I saw him next. I stared at my words. I was angling for a booty call from my ex-husband—I could hear Diane’s warning now, although to be honest, she’d been after me to beg him to come home for the past seven months.

  My finger hovered over the green send button on the screen. I picked up the glass and took another swallow. 12:26. I updated the time in the message and added two more question marks. Then I gave myself ten seconds to come to my senses.

  As soon as I pressed send, I had second thoughts.

  I was an ass. Those two extra question marks had probably made me sound desperate. My hair hung in a curtain around the wine glass as I slumped over it, eyes closed.

  A couple minutes later, my phone vibrated.

  Chase: Where are the kids?

  Me: Zac asleep. Izzy spending night at Emily’s.

  Nothing.

  12:32.

  I drained what was left in my glass and poured another. This was as good an excuse to get drunk as any.

  The phone vibrated.

  Be right there.

  As soon as my heart resumed beating, I threw off the covers, scurried to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then foolishly took another sip of wine and nearly swallowed my tongue at the taste. I drew on some eyeliner, added just a little mascara, and ran some lip gloss across my lips with my finger. In the bedroom, I tore off my oversized T-shirt and pulled a satin nightie from the closet. It had been hanging untouched for so long that I had to give it a good hard shake first to make sure there were no spiders or anything else roosting in it.

  Almost one o’clock. If Chase had left right away, he would be here any second. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, checked on Zac again, then moved quietly across the living room to turn on the porch light. I hovered by the front window. Had he changed his mind? That might actually be worse than if he’d just deleted the message without responding.

  The headlights from his pickup reflected against the side of the neighbor’s house as he pulled up. I held my breath as he climbed out of the truck and sprinted toward the house.

  This was crazy, this was crazy—and then I told myself to shut up.

  I yanked the front door open before he could knock. He hesitated
for a second, his eyes raking over me, and when he looked up, I could tell he wanted me as much as I wanted him. He couldn’t hide it. It had been clear earlier when he’d kissed me, and it was clear at this moment.

  Maybe he’d been telling the truth on the way home. Maybe this was exactly why he had refused to look at me all this time.

  “I was hoping I hadn’t misinterpreted your message,” he said softly. “I guess I didn’t.”

  I shook my head. He stepped inside, and I closed the door quietly.

  “You sure Zac’s asleep?” he whispered.

  “Positive.”

  In seconds, I was up against the wall, Chase’s mouth pressed against mine. His tongue ran along the seam of my lips. My mouth opened, welcoming him. His tongue brushed mine and he tasted of mint and regret. It was lips and teeth and tongue. Every beat of my heart welcomed him home. I clutched at his neck, grabbing hold of his hair and held it, the cool, silky strands so achingly familiar.

  When my knees began to buckle, he swept me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, then carried me to the bedroom.

  He tugged his T-shirt over his head and flung it across the room. My nightgown followed. Chase paused, his eyes roaming over me like a man in the desert looks at a tall drink of iced water, and then he was on me again.

  It was wild at first, crazed pawing and grabbing—just what might be expected from two people who liked sex, liked it a lot, especially with each other, but who hadn’t had it in a while. It was fast and hard and rough, but I wasn’t complaining, not even when he sunk his teeth into the fleshy softness of my shoulder and growled.

  “Are you still on the pill?” His lips moved against my throat.

  I swallowed back the bitter taste of sadness. Despite how out of control we seemed to be, he was being smart, responsible. Unlike me. But I didn’t want to think about what we were doing. Or what we’d been through. I was focused on now. The man I loved more than anything, except maybe our children, was in our bed, holding me in his arms. Now was all I could manage.