Caught in the Chase (Caught Series Book 3)

by Kacey Shea

  “I mean . . .” I shrug and gather my work bucket and supplies, already concocting a plan to smuggle the little bastards inside. “It’s not a problem if no one finds out.”

  Tyler’s brows shoot high with surprise and I realize too late, I’m modeling irresponsible adult behavior. He glances down to the patrons below, catching Bailey’s stare once more, only this time he offers her a grin before turning his attention back. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  A smirk spreads across my face, impressed because I didn’t know he had it in him. Maybe I should feel guilty for encouraging such antics, but I don’t. It’s not as if we’re plotting a crime. Besides, saving kittens requires desperate measures.

  30

  Alicia

  Charlie: Still no working bathroom.

  The text message on my screen swipes away any hope of a hot shower when I get home tonight. I flip the camera on my phone for a selfie and check my hair. Fuck it, I can probably go another day. But if our bathroom isn’t fixed soon I will have to turn to my last resort—the public showers here at the community center.

  I reach my hands overhead, stretching out the kinks in my back, then stifle a yawn as I shut down my laptop for the day. I’m starving and tired and not at all looking forward to heading back to a house with no working shower. Maybe I’ll treat myself and stop for dinner on the way home. It’s been a long day and I deserve a little self-pampering.

  Most of the staff and volunteers are gone for the day. I wave good-bye to the few employees on the closing shift and walk toward the exit. Sheets of rain pour down, hitting against the windowed walls. Damn it. I’m almost certain my umbrella is inside my car. I sigh, turning away from the door when I’m caught by surprise

  Chase is a few feet away, sitting on one of the benches built into the wall near the front entrance.

  “I thought you already left.” He should’ve checked out at least an hour ago.

  “Yeah, well.” He nods to the glass wall of windows. “I was hoping this would clear up, but it’s only getting worse.”

  Summer storms aren’t unusual, especially right on the coast. But it’s not as though there’s a hurricane on the horizon.

  “I can’t drive,” he says as if reading my thoughts, and huffs out a sigh. “Remember?”

  As if I could forget. It hits me that I have no clue where he’s staying or what he’s up to outside of his time at the center. “How have you been getting to and from work?”

  He shrugs, his gaze settling back on the storm outside. “I run, or walk. It’s only three miles.”

  Three miles. Only. I almost laugh. There’s no way in hell I would walk or run that distance every day. Not with this humidity. My hair would be insane. I take in Chase’s anxious bounce to his knee, the backpack and small brown shoe box sitting on the floor next to him, and dammit, I feel sorry for him. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.” I shouldn’t. But my mouth opens and the offer flies from my lips before I can think better of it. I already feel the boundaries between us blurring with the promise of a friendship neither of us should explore.

  His gaze darts to mine, surprise and shock clear in the part of his mouth. He must really not want to run home in the rain because he stands and follows me outside without a single hesitation.

  The wind whips my hair around my face, and sheets of rain quickly soak my clothes. I unlock the car with my remote and move as fast as I can, but there’s no outrunning this storm. Out-of-breath, I drop into my seat, shut the door, and turn off the AC as soon as I turn the key. “Damn.”

  Chase drops into the passenger seat a second after I do.

  I get why he wasn’t eager to go out in that. Rubbing my hands together, I attempt to ward off the chill in my body but a shiver shoots down my spine anyway. “Where to?”

  Chase points to the road. “Take a left up there, and hit another left at the next light.”

  Visibility is crap, the rain flooding the streets and covering my windshield as quickly as the wipers swipe it away. The chill in my body lessons as the air grows warmer inside the cab of my car. I don’t know what to say, my ability to make small talk swallowed up by my focused driving. That, and I’m insanely curious as to where he lives, especially when he has me turn down a street I’ve never been on.

  “It’s the blue one up on the right. Second to last on the street.” He points at a massive-looking beach house.

  All the lights are off and there are no cars when I park in the drive. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He runs his palms over his jeans. “It’s way too much for one person but I can’t beat the rent.”

  “How much is that?” I can’t even imagine how much it costs to stay in this place for the summer.

  “Free.” He grins sheepishly.

  “Wait, what? How?”

  He shrugs and pulls his stuff from the floorboard to rest in his lap. “It’s my uncle’s place. He’s traveling for work most of the summer, so he was happy to have someone to look after it.”

  My eyes bug with disbelief and okay, maybe I’m a little jealous. My free housing looks like coed dorm housing. Chase’s is right out of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, and much closer to the standard of living I was raised on. But without access to my trust fund and grad school on the horizon, it’s not as though I have much choice. I have to save every penny possible. But Jesus. Fuck. The fact Chase has this place to himself is just not fair. There’s got to be at least three working bathrooms inside!

  “Do you want to come inside? Check it out? I’d offer you a drink but all I have is water.”

  I realize I must be staring out my window with a little too much longing. The rain’s slowed to a drizzle and I kind of want to see what’s inside. Now that I’m here there’s really no harm. “Okay.”

  Chase’s brows lift and I think we’ve surprised both of us with my answer. “Okay.”

  We get out of the car and I follow him up the steps to the front deck. It seems to wrap around the entire structure and I’d bet money there’s a gorgeous view of the ocean from the back. He lifts the mail slot next to the front door, retrieving a few letters and sticking them under his arm before unlocking the door.

  “This is home sweet home.” Chase flicks on the lights and holds the door for me to pass. “Let me drop this stuff in the laundry room. One second.” He disappears through a door.

  If I was impressed before, I’m officially stunned. Warm hardwood floors, soft paint tones, comfortable stylish furniture. This place is right out of a freaking magazine.

  He returns less than a minute later. “Not too shabby, huh?”

  “What the hell does your uncle do for a living?” I step out of my shoes so I don’t track water all over the place and take in the grandeur of this home. “Not firefighting?”

  Chase chuckles, following me into the large kitchen and open dining room. “No. Definitely not that.” He opens the fridge and retrieves two water bottles, handing one to me. “He’s in development, whatever that means.”

  I stand at the large bay of windows and watch the tide roll not thirty yards away. “This view is amazing. I would never leave.”

  “You should see it from the deck upstairs.” He nods at the staircase. “Come on.”

  I should probably leave. This is a bad idea, spending any one-on-one time with Chase is, but I’m a sucker for beautiful homes and can’t help but follow him.

  “On this floor there’re a few guest bedrooms.” He waves, pausing only briefly before jogging up the next set of stairs.

  “There’re three levels?” I ask, still floored that he lives here alone.

  “Four, actually,” he says. “There’s a game room and another guest suite in the basement.”

  “Jesus.” I shake my head as we come up to the third floor. “You live here. By yourself. Meanwhile, I have to wear flip-flops in the shower so I don’t catch a foot fungus. This is literally not fair.”

  Chase grins and we pass through a huge bedroom. It takes up the entire top floor and
includes a living space bigger than my entire building.

  I stop at the bathroom just to marvel at the walk-in shower and Jacuzzi-style bathtub. “Seriously. I hate you. This is the nicest bathroom I’ve ever seen.”

  “Wait till you see this,” he says and nods toward the French doors. He walks over to open them, revealing a large private deck.

  The view out onto the ocean steals my breath. “Oh, my.” I walk to the railing, my heart racing at the beauty of it all. A sliver of moonlight peeks from behind the clouds and the reflection glitters against the waves. The salty, misty air breezes and whips a few stray hairs around my face until I push them back.

  “Beautiful, huh?”

  I turn to find him staring. “This place is amazing.”

  He leans his hip against the railing. “You could stay here.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, if you ever need to get away or need some space.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.” Again. I don’t add that last part, but it hangs in the air between us, mocking my past ability and lack of good decision making.

  He barks out a laugh. “While that’s unfortunate, as you can see there’s an array of empty beds. You could have your pick. The house is really big for one person.”

  Silence stretches between us, his stare not letting mine go.

  No. That’s my answer. At least it should be. But for some reason I can’t seem to push the word past my lips.

  “It’s too quiet.” His gaze drops to the deck and he kicks his heel against the floorboard. “I know I deserve to be alone and that I sound like a little bitch complaining. But at the end of the day, I’m here with only my own thoughts and they aren’t very good company.”

  “I understand.” Because I do.

  “Then you should move in.”

  “I can’t.” What would I tell Callie and Jill? Or more accurately, how could I keep it from them? Not to mention, if word got out at the community center that I was shacking up with Chase, people would assume we were sleeping together. I could get fired, I think. At any rate, I’d be mortified.

  “Well, if you ever need a break.” He grips the railing and blows out a long exhale, staring at the sea. “Or get the impulse to hang with a recovering addict, the offer stands.”

  Is he really being nice? Or is this just some ploy to . . . what? He already knows I’m not interested in fucking. Could he really be so kind?

  I know better than anyone that real change is possible. Maybe I’ve been too tough on him. Maybe I should offer him what others have given me. Friendship without strings. Acceptance with grace. A second chance to be better.

  “I should probably go.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he says gruffly. Maybe it’s my imagination but he almost appears disappointed at my retreat. I must be going a little crazy, because I am, too.

  31

  Chase

  I get lucky with the ride home from Alicia. The little rug rats don’t make a peep, and thankfully she doesn’t ask why I’m carrying around a shoe box. Of course she rejects my offer to stay at the beach house. I knew she would. Hell, I’m still surprised she offered to drive me home. But her quick escape leaves me more than a little bummed out. I genuinely enjoyed her company.

  That and I’m tired of being alone.

  Now that she’s gone for the night, I want to mope around. I want a beer. But instead, I head back down to the laundry room and retrieve my wards. “You guys are gonna need a bigger place soon, aren’t you?”

  They don’t respond, fast asleep and snuggled together in their shoe box home.

  Deciding it’s more important they stay warm and within earshot, I place the box back in the laundry room and rifle through the closets for supplies I might need in the morning. Starting dinner, I pull up a few YouTube videos on how to care for abandoned kittens and learn more than I ever expected to know on the subject. It’s overwhelming, and I’ll obviously need to get better supplies.

  I estimate they’re a week or two old, based off their size and lack of mobility. I make sure the kittens are warm and then use an eyedropper Tyler procured earlier today to feed them once more before calling it a night. They do pretty well, considering I fumble through it all. I don’t know how long they’ve been on their own and I offer up a silent plea the little buggers make it through the night.

  “Sorry, I know you’re missing your mama. I’m a poor replacement,” I say to the tiniest one.

  He cries out, a pathetic little sound, but it brings a chuckle to my lips.

  “Oh, you want to tell me about it, don’t you?”

  Jesus. I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to a cat. Though, I guess it’s better than myself.

  “Okay, kitties. It’s bedtime.” I make sure the rags inside the box are clean, and carry the brood up to the top level where I set them on the nightstand next to my uncle’s bed. He would probably die knowing I brought home five strays. He’d no doubt be outraged at me bringing them into his upscale and expensively furnished bedroom. It’s that thought that puts a grin on my face as I get ready for sleep.

  My alarm goes off every three hours to feed the kittens. Each time I wake to check them, I breathe a sigh of relief to find them all alive, cranky and meowling when I open the lid to their box. Just before six, I pull my sleepy ass out of bed, get ready, and then feed them in the kitchen before my long walk to the center. Thankfully, it’s not raining, though I still feel bad for the little guys. I keep my stride smooth and am extra careful not to jostle them.

  I skip AA, not wanting to show up with a box of kittens. Besides, I need to get to the community center early enough to hide them in the supply closet without anyone noticing. I’m already thinking ahead to next week. Once their eyes open and they get more mobile, I’m gonna need a better solution—and a much bigger box.

  Tyler’s waiting outside when I walk up to the center.

  “Hey.” I lift the box in greeting.

  “How are they?” He steps forward, concern clear in his eyes.

  I hand him the box and pop the cover open so he can peek inside. “Good.”

  “They ate okay?”

  “Yep. Used the eye dropper, just like you showed me. Worked like a charm.”

  “Awesome.” He swings his backpack off one shoulder and pulls out a few items. “So I found these bottles. They should work better. And I stopped in at the feed store this morning. We need to be using this formula instead. It’s made especially for kittens. We’ll have to mix it with water before each feeding. Crap. I should’ve brought extra water bottles.”

  I don’t think I’ve heard this kid say so many words in all the conversations we’ve had up until this moment. That he cares enough about these strays to go out and spend money on his own dime speaks volumes about his character.

  “We’ve got water inside.” I nod to the entrance. “Let’s smuggle them in before anyone catches us.”

  He grins.

  I check in at the front desk while he hangs back, and then we both head to the supply closet we used yesterday. It’s stocked with cleaning supplies, and thankfully still unlocked from yesterday. Inside it’s not all that roomie, but we both manage to squeeze in. We get the kittens set up between a box of paper towels and stacks of toilet paper for extra protection.

  “They’re more alert today,” Tyler says, picking one up to hold to his chest. He’s comfortable with the little guy.

  “You’re good with animals. How’d you know to do all this?” I point at the formula and bottles. “What to feed them and all that?”

  He shrugs, stroking a finger along the kitten’s forehead. “My dad and I used to rescue animals all the time. Mostly birds. A possum once.”

  “That’s cool.” I never had that kind of relationship with my dad. In fact, I can’t recall a single time we ever did something together, just the two of us, that wasn’t work-related. “Sounds like a good guy.”

  Tyler’s brows furrow and he shakes his head before flashing me a g
lare. “He’s not.”

  I wait for more but he doesn’t offer, and I’ve clearly hit a nerve. I should know better. “Sorry.” I don’t want to overstep, but it’s probably too late for that. “If you ever want to talk, or need to vent—”

  “Don’t.” Tyler sets the kitten back in the box and rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a big brother. I’m fine.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I apologize again, kicking myself for saying something in the first place. He’s obviously a good kid. I’m sure he has a solid support system. Besides, I’m hardly a role model for him or anyone. “I think these rug rats need names.”

  “Names?” Tyler’s eyes light with interest as he pushes to his feet.

  “Yeah. If we don’t, I’ll end up nicknaming them stupid shit like Thing One and Thing Two.” I point at the littlest one. “Short Stack.”

  Tyler chuckles. “So what should we call them?”

  “How about you name them?” I say because really, without him I wouldn’t be doing this. “Except for the little guy. I get to pick his.”

  Tyler opens his mouth to respond.

  Movement catches our attention. The door swings open and Charlie’s startled gasp—no doubt at finding two men in the supply closet—renders each of us speechless.

  “Uh.” Charlie stares, frozen and with slight alarm. “What’s going—”

  “Nothing,” Tyler interjects, shoving his hands behind his back.

  At the same time I practically shout, “Private meeting.”

  Now, both Charlie and Tyler stare at me with raised brows.

  “Private?” Charlie shakes their head. “Do I even want to know? Or should I call the cops?” Charlie turns to Tyler.

  “It’s not anything weird.” Tyler scowls as his cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and he won’t look at either of us.

  Fuck. I can’t have Charlie getting the wrong idea.

  “We’re hiding a litter of kittens in here,” I explain since there’s no lie to make this encounter not appear highly inappropriate. “We found them on the roof yesterday. It’s just for the day and I swear they won’t get out or ruin anything.”