Between the Seams (8 page)

“I,” his voice was tight when he finally spoke again, “don’t know what to think about that.”

Jo sighed, her emotions in that weird place between high alert and frayed. “About what?”

“About all of it.” He sounded angry, and she chanced a look at him.

Yup, he was angry. Pissed, was more like it.

“Chase, we haven’t spoken in years, and while that falls mostly on me it falls a little on you, too. I’ve been back here and there—and we both know you knew when I was in town, because Jenn knew and Jenn will tell us anything and everything as long as she’s not sworn to secrecy—and you’ve never once tried to talk to me.”

“You--”

She turned so that she was facing him and cut him off. “And that’s just as much on my shoulders as it is yours. Like I said, more on mine than yours, since I was the one who ended things all those years ago. So no, Chase, I hadn’t planned on seeing you or talking to you or kissing you or any of the
whatever
this is we’ve been doing. But we did see each other and talk to each other, and you did kiss me and I did somewhat drunkenly spill my guts. We can get mad about it—God knows both of us probably have enough stored up anger with each other to burn this town to the ground—but it is what it is, Chase. It just is what it is.”

He’d turned his body during her tirade, angling it towards hers so that their bent knees were touching. She could feel energy and anger and tension coursing through his body, could see it in the way he held his mouth and his shoulders. As a boy, he hadn’t shown much anger, even though God knew he’d had more than enough reasons to. It figured that as a man, he would hold it in check, tense with it and probably angry that he was angry.

Same, but different
. The words whispered through her head.

“Anger, Jo? What do you have to be angry about with me? You’re the one who ended our friendship. You. You just stopped talking to me. And then you left town. So please, Jolene, tell me what
you
have to be angry about.”

“I wanted you to fight for me!”

The words were ripped from her before she could snatch them back, loud and angry and clear as the laughter from the kids playing tag some fifty yards away. The truth, which she’d long denied even to herself, lay there between them, her angrily yelled words like a living breathing thing.

They stared each other, breaths harsh as though they’d both just run a marathon, long moments of charged silence hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, he spoke. “You sure had a funny way of showing it.”

“I was fourteen, Chase. I’d just figured out that I wanted you to kiss me. I didn’t know what I was feeling or what I wanted, only that I was embarrassed by all of it and felt like everything was somehow my fault.”

He considered her for long moments. “For what it’s worth, I wanted to fight for you, but I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me. So I didn’t.”

“We’ve both screwed up, Chase.”

He nodded in concession. “Yeah.”

“We were kids.”

He nodded again, looked away. Breathed deeply before saying, “I was in love with you. While we’re at confession, I guess I should throw that out there too along with the rest of this mess.”

Jo had been prepared for lots of different confessions from Chase; that he’d hated her, that he’d had a crush on her, that he’d wanted to kiss her that day beside the pool, that he wished she’d never come back. This one, though, took her breath away and caused her insides to feel jittery, like a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “Chase…I…when?”

“Somewhere in the seventh grade.” He said it nonchalantly, but she still knew him well enough to realize he was anything but nonchalant. The importance of that piece of information was not lost on her either. Seventh grade. He’d definitely wanted to kiss her that day by the pool, she was pretty sure of that now.

“Oh, God. I really did break your heart.” Hers felt like it was shattering into a million tiny pieces.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just bruised it a little bit, I think.”

“Chase—”

“Jo, it’s in the past.”

“No, it really isn’t, Chase. Whatever this is that we’ve been doing? It’s all tangled together. You and I both know that. And you have to know that I never, ever meant to hurt you like that. I thought I was doing the right thing, and fuck did the right thing hurt like hell. You were my best friend. The first boy I wanted to kiss. My first real crush. In some ways you were my first love. So it might be in the past, but all that…” she searched for the right word, finally settled on, “shit has helped make us who we are today.”

She turned and flopped against the back of the bench, tired and lonely, sad and still a little angry. Logically, her counselor’s mind knew that they could only let things build for so long and that they’d both reached a boiling point. She knew it wasn’t healthy—for either of them—to keep so many secrets and emotions locked inside. As a woman, though, she almost wished she didn’t feel all of the things she was feeling, because life would be so much simpler without all those pesky emotions she’d been feeling ever since she’d run into Chase almost a month ago in the feminine hygiene aisle.

“How is it that even at our ages, we can still make each other feel like awkward, overly emotional teenagers?”

Jo chuckled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that no matter how old you get, somewhere inside of you lives an awkward teenager. Emotions are hard, and I don’t know that any of us are well-equipped to deal with them in a not-awkward way. And we never really got to go through that phase together. I guess we’re making up for lost time.”

“If it’s any consolation, you make me feel like a teenager in other ways, too.”

Jo turned her head and looked at him. “What?”

He raked his gaze over her sweaty body and she blushed.

“Oh. Fair enough.” She fought a giggle. “You make me feel like a teenager, too, for what it’s worth.”

Chase smiled. “Well, I guess that soothes my ego at least a little bit.”

They sat in silence. Jo had no clue what he was thinking, but her thoughts were a mess of memories and wishes and emotions. At least the panic had loosened its grip on her.

“So how’s Matt?” They couldn’t avoid the emotional land mines forever, but there was no reason why they couldn’t take a short break from them, either.

Chase huffed out a frustrated breath. “He decided he wanted to live with me for a few weeks.”

“You sound thrilled.”

“Absolutely. I mean, I am thrilled that he’s okay and that he’s going to be okay. I’m just not thrilled about him crashing at my place for so long.”

“Understandable. Y’all always had a bit of a competitive relationship.”

He snorted. “To say the least. We just got back last night. By the time I left the house before six this morning he was already driving me crazy just by being there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Not the Matt stuff. Although, I am sorry he got hurt like that. And I’m sorry he’s imposing on you and making you uncomfortable. But what I meant was that I’m sorry for dumping more emotional crap on you, when you’ve already had a pretty rough past couple of weeks as it is.”

Chase wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. “Don’t apologize for the honesty, Jo, or the emotions. I’ve been carrying around the anger and the hurt for so long now I almost take them for granted. I know it isn’t the manly thing to say, but we needed to clear the air.”

“We did.” She swallowed. “So what is this that we’re doing now?”

Chase stilled beside her, long enough that she began to worry she’d said the wrong thing yet again, when he finally asked, “Can I have your number?”

Jo smiled and let hope bloom. Maybe everything was going to be alright between them.

~~*~~

Chapter Ten

The words of Del Rio’s own Radney Foster poured through the bar’s sound system as people all around him laughed, talked and knocked back shots. Secretly, Chase had always loved “Nobody Wins.” It probably wasn’t the manliest song, but he’d liked it the first time he’d heard it on the radio back in junior high.

Chase sipped his beer, quiet. The bar wasn’t packed since it was a weekday, but with tomorrow being the Fourth, there were enough people to provide a lively atmosphere. On the other side of the table, Matt steadily greeted fans and well-wishers. He still hadn’t fixed his hair; the half-shaved mess had apparently become a badge of honor.

Or, knowing his brother, an attempt at picking up chicks. Against doctor’s orders.

Chase rolled his eyes as yet another woman stuffed into a too-small shirt and too-tight jeans sauntered up to his brother. They were like moths to a goddamned flame.

Apparently the half-shaved look was working for him.

After Girl Number Fifty-Seven left, Matt swiveled his chair towards Chase. And just sat there. Staring.

“What is up with you here lately?” Chase asked, exasperated.

If Matt hadn’t been perfecting his Yoda routine, he’d been jonesing to get out of the house and be around people. In his clearer, less irritated moments Chase understood that his brother was dealing with a lot of stuff, grappling with a near-death experience and the future of his career. Baseball was all his brother knew. Hell, Matt
was
baseball, and Chase didn’t envy him any of the shit he was dealing with right now. But damn was he getting irritated.

Matt shrugged. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?” Chase muttered.

“Getting me out of the house. I was starting to go stir crazy.”

Matt still hadn’t been cleared to drive, and probably shouldn’t have even been at a bar three weeks after having brain surgery, but when he’d threatened to steal Chase’s truck keys and find something to do on his own, Chase had finally relented. They were both active guys, not used to spending a lot of time sitting still and doing nothing.

In that way they did have a lot in common.

So Chase had finally given in and brought him to April’s, a little bar he, Jenn and Owen enjoyed for the relatively cozy atmosphere, dim lights and usually a lack of singles on the prowl. It was a country bar through and through, with the set list comprised mostly of Texas country artists except for Friday nights, when the set list opened up a bit.

Just his kind of place.

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into bringing you to a bar.”

Matt grinned. “Glad to know I can still push your buttons, little brother.”

Chase sighed, and was about to respond when Owen walked up. Thank God. Reinforcements. Matt and Owen shook hands in greeting before Owen took a seat and ordered a beer from a passing waitress.

Once his beer had arrived, Owen sat back and said, “I invited the girls.”

“Girls, huh?” Matt asked, almost lasciviously.

“Jenn and Jo. Figured we could save Jenn from a night of knitting and get Jo out of her grandma’s house for a while,” Owen said.

Matt wiggled his eyebrows at Chase. “That clarifies things.”

“Don’t even start, Matt,” Chase warned.

Owen looked from Chase to Matt and back again before laughing. “Oh, this is good. Do we have another member of the Chase Needs to Make a Move club?”

“Absolutely,” Matt answered.

“I didn’t realize you cared,” Chase drawled, irritated. Since when had his personal life become so interesting to his best friend and his brother?

“Not so much caring as getting tired of your moodiness,” Owen said. “You’re worse than a woman the past few weeks.”

Matt choked out a laugh. Chase glowered. “It’s none of your damned business.”

“If she’s as pretty as she used to be, can I have her, then?”

Chase narrowed his eyes at Matt. “I
will
hit a man who just had brain surgery.”

Owen and Matt both hooted with laughter, damn them.

~~*~~

“Should Matt even be at a bar, all things considered?” Jo asked Jenn as they walked through the door.

Jenn shrugged. “Probably not. But you know Matt.”

“No, not really. I mean, I know him, but not like I do Chase. He was always playing select ball or little league or high school. He wasn’t around much.”

Jo thought she heard Jenn mumble “Lucky you” under her breath, and wondered what her best friend’s dig against Matt was. Before she could ask, though, Jenn spotted Chase, Matt and Owen and waved.

The three men turned towards them, and Jo’s body felt on fire as Chase’s gaze caught hers before perusing her from head to toe and back up. She fought the urge to pull down the hem of her skirt or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

They hadn’t seen each other since that day in the park, almost a week ago, but they’d talked. He’d called her a few times, she’d called him a few times. They’d exchanged texts. Nothing earth-shattering, but they’d definitely been feeling each other out and rekindling their friendship (among other things).

Jo was learning that the boy she’d known was still there; he’d just turned into a somewhat complicated man. Same enough to be somewhat comfortable. Different enough to be damned intriguing. It was a heady mix of old and new, tangled up with all those old emotions and this new attraction that had firmly gripped her and refused to let go.

He hadn’t kissed her since that night at Owen’s house when she’d somewhat drunkenly spilled her guts. They’d teased and flirted, along with holding hands that night at Wings and Rings, sat close to one another and touched.

But he hadn’t kissed her again.

As they stared at each other from across the bar, she almost desperately wished he would walk over, sweep her into his arms and kiss her like his life depended on it.

Instead, he stayed firmly planted on his barstool, and she made her boot-clad feet move towards him.

It wasn’t until after they’d reached the table that Jo realized Matt was sporting a hairdo more likely to be seen on 6
th
Street in Austin than in a little bar in Del Rio. Her laugh was unexpected, but she couldn’t hold it in once it had come out. “Oh my God, Matt. Your hair!”

“Nice to see you too, Jolene.” He winked at her.

Matt had always been a good-looking charmer, and even with the crazy ass hairdo that still held true.

“I guess the Bigs don’t pay as much as I thought if you can’t even afford a decent haircut.” Jenn’s comment, which Jo figured was supposed to have been teasing, came out sounding almost mean.

Some of the twinkle left Matt’s hazel eyes, and Jo looked at Chase, her eyebrows raised in a silent question. He shrugged, apparently as lost as she was.

Jenn chose to sit between Owen and Chase, leaving the barstool between Matt and Chase open. Jo took it, and shortly a waitress appeared to take their orders. Jenn ordered a margarita and Jo followed suit.

Conversation flowed. Mostly. The banter was easy and fun—except between Jenn and Matt. Jo knew her best friend well enough to know that something was up, but had no clue as to what that something was. There was just a general discomfort between the school teacher and the major league pitcher.

Jo had the niggling feeling she’d missed something while living in Austin.

Owen and Chase decided to go play a game of pool, and Matt followed, promising Chase he would just “sit there and look pretty” and not exert himself. Table to themselves, Jo turned to Jenn and asked, “Okay, spill. What is going on with you and Matt?”

Jenn fidgeted, twirled a red curl around her finger. Sighed. “Nothing.”

There was a lot more to that sigh than “nothing.” Thoughtfully, Jo tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure about that?”

Jenn gulped her margarita. “Oh, I’m absolutely sure there’s nothing going on between Matt and me. Unlike you and Chase.”

Jo let the change in subject slide, knowing she’d get back to it sooner or later and not wanting to press Jenn too much. “I don’t know what’s going on between Chase and me.”

“He looked like he wanted to eat you up with a spoon when we walked in.” Jenn giggled.

He kind of had, hadn’t he? Jo thought.

“To be honest, I’d probably let him.”

“What’s holding you back?”

Jo sighed. “I have no idea. The past, I guess. The future. The present.”

“Jo, I know better than anyone that the two of you had a lot of air clearing you needed to do. From what little the two of you have told me—you’re both being incredibly tight-lipped, which is really annoying, by the way—it sounds like you’ve at least laid most everything out there on the table. At some point y’all have got to stop focusing so much on the past and start paying attention to the here and now.”

From where she was sitting, Jo had a clear line of sight to the pool table. Owen racked, then dropped his first two shots before missing his third. “I think we’re getting there, Jenn. We just have to get to know each other again. We’re different people now.”

Jenn snorted. “Not that different. Sure, you’ve both had relationships, you live in different cities now and have your own careers. But deep down? He’s still Chase and you’re still Jo. Just grown-up versions.”

Same, but different.

Abruptly, Jenn stood. “I’ve gotta go to the ladies’ room. Be right back.”

While Jenn was gone, Jo watched Chase over the salted rim of her margarita glass. He threw back his head and laughed at something Owen said. His smile was genuine, causing warmth to unfurl in her stomach.

His fingers were curled around the pool cue, and not for the first time in the past few weeks, Jo was fascinated. Those big pitcher’s hands were rough and masculine and strong. She’d spent a few nights on the phone with him, fantasizing about those hands. Holding them. How they would feel on her skin, her breasts, between her legs.

Warmth spread through her body, pooling at the juncture of her thighs. Absently, she looked down at her margarita. She’d only taken a couple of sips.

No, this was all Chase making her warm and tingly.

Just as it had been for the past month or so.

Chase leaned over the pool table, setting up his shot. As though he could feel her gaze on him, he looked up. Their gazes caught. He looked back down, took his shot. Missed. Owen made quick work of the remaining balls, and Jenn stepped up to challenge him. Chase handed her his pool cue before heading back across the bar to Jo.

And then he was there, those big palms
thunking
down on the table. Leaning forward so that their noses almost touched, his voice barely above a whisper, he said, “You look a little lonely over here.”

“Do I now?”

He nodded his head. They stared at each other for long moments, the tension between them so thick Jo wondered how they were both still breathing. It was like being under water for too long, still feet away from the surface, wishing you could just breathe deep.

She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she wasn’t sure she didn’t like it, either.

The DJ switched songs, to a slow romantic number that had couples young and old swaying out on the dance floor. Slowly, tentatively, Chase reached for Jo’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

Her throat too tight, still struggling for air, she nodded and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor.

Chase’s big hands wrapped around her waist, pulled her as close as their clothes and propriety would allow. As they swayed along with Honeybrowne’s “Texas Angel”, Jo found herself once again mesmerized by those melted chocolate eyes.

She’d dreamt about those eyes as a teenager. They were amazing.

She wanted to lick him up, like chocolate that had melted on her fingertips.

The thought made her blush, but the look he gave her made her wonder if maybe he wasn’t thinking similar thoughts.

He tucked a curl behind her ear and settled his head against hers. “You’re killing me, smalls.”

“Hmmm?” she murmured, her eyes half closed as she simply enjoyed the sensation of being held in his arms.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might have to do something about it.”

Jo pulled back slightly, enough so that she could see his face. She raised her eyebrows, blinked innocently and asked, “Looking at you like what?”

“Like I’m dessert and you have one hell of a sweet tooth.”

Desire churned in her stomach, dropping and swirling and stirring up parts that hadn’t been stirred in quite some time. “Well, I do like dessert. Especially chocolate.”

“Chocolate, huh?”

She nuzzled his neck, half-drunk from the smell of his skin alone. “Like your eyes. They remind me of melted chocolate.”

Jo felt more than heard his unsteady intake of breath followed by a slight stutter to his step. Instead of speaking, he pulled her in closer, and suddenly she was all too aware of the fact that Chase Roberts apparently wanted her as much as she wanted him.

They swayed together, silent, tension pulled tightly between them like fresh guitar strings. Jo could feel her heart thumping in her chest, an unsteady, almost too fast rhythm. She could see his pulse throbbing in his neck, could feel every ragged intake of breath as their thighs brushed.

The last strains of “Texas Angel” filtered through the smoky bar, and Jo slowly felt reality intrude into their intimate little bubble. The DJ deftly segued into another song, this one slightly more up tempo. She tried to move away, put some space between them, but Chase’s grip on her waist tightened and he held her in place.

A crooked grin curved those lips she’d been thinking about way too much here lately.

“I think I should have listened to this song first.”

Jo swallowed past the lump of desire in her throat and asked, “Why’s that?”

Chase tilted his head towards the DJ booth. “Listen to the words. You’ll understand.”

They stood there on the dance floor, a few couples still moving around them, and Jo listened, belatedly recognizing Jon Wolfe’s “I Don’t Dance.”

She looked into his eyes and asked, “So you’re the sneak out at three a.m. type, huh? Never would have guessed that about you.”