Cowboy Take Me Away (6 page)

“Surprise me.” She pulled out a stool and sat, dropping her purse onto the bar and dragging herself a bit closer to Chase as he ordered.

“I thought we'd prop up the bar for a bit before grabbing a table.”

She glanced around. “If we can find one.” The place was kind of packed. There were people standing around, the booths looked full, and there were a few vacant spots around the bar. She loved the way the beer was stashed in ice behind the counter, mustard and ketchup bottles sitting alongside jars of peanuts on the worn wooden bar. She couldn't have chosen a more perfect spot to spend an evening if she'd tried.

“We're getting that little one in the corner over there,” he said, sliding some bills toward the bartender as two beers headed their way. “And the best thing about this place? They have a tequila bar.”

Hope reached for her beer, holding it up to see what it was before clinking it against Chase's. “I thought we were being all sophisticated and having wine tonight.”

He took a sip then grimaced. “I have a confession to make.”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting.

“I was taking you somewhere different, but then when I started driving from your place, I decided it was all wrong. Wrong for us, anyway.”

“Wrong how?” she asked, deciding the beer wasn't half-bad when she sipped it again.

“Fancy, expensive, and…” He shrugged. “We were never about all that shit, were we? It was just two great friends hanging out and rolling with the punches. But we can still drink wine. If you want.”

“Beer's fine,” she said, her shoulders relaxing, her body no longer tense just because she was sitting close to Chase. “In fact, this place is perfect.”

 

Chapter 3

You're perfect.
It was on the tip of his tongue to just say it, to man up and tell her what a jackass he'd been, that he should have called her, should have tried harder to stay in touch. But she'd had a phone, too, and she'd been the one to slip out of the motel room that morning and disappear. Damn.
To hell with it
. They were hanging out now and if she was going to be staying in Dallas then they had plenty of goddamn time to forgive and forget.

“They do mean grilled burgers here,” he told her, draining almost half of his beer in one long pull. “And their Tex-Mex is damn good, too.”

“A burger will do me fine,” she said, scooping her long hair up and dragging it to rest over one shoulder. Her neck was exposed on one side now, golden skin so soft he was aching to cover it with his mouth. She licked her lips, so unaware of the effect she was having on him.

“So how're you liking your new job?” he asked.

“Hey, it pays the bills and I'm doing what I trained for. I've dedicated the last few years to honing my skills and becoming as specialized as I can.”

She was saying all the right words, but he could tell she wasn't happy, that she wasn't telling the whole truth. Hope had never been good at keeping things from him, and it seemed nothing had changed.

“But you'd rather be putting it all to practice on your own ranch, right?” He didn't want to push her, but whatever the hell had happened with her ranch was like the elephant in the room

“I was hoping to start breeding quarter horses, actually. My dad was always interested in it, and after he passed away I wanted to do it even more. For me and for him. We'd always talked about crossing them with European Warmbloods to produce top quality, sensible sport horses.” She sighed. “It was one of those things on my bucket list for the future, after I'd made a name for myself.”

Chase put down his beer and reached for Hope's hand, the sight of her eyes tearing up enough to jolt something deep within him. The urge to protect her went into overdrive. He hated to see her in pain.

“Hope, you should have said.” He tucked her fingers beneath his. “I'd never have asked if…”

“My dad passing wasn't the reason we lost the ranch,” she said matter-of-factly, her voice devoid of emotion even if her eyes gave away her pain for all to see. “He left everything to me. I was his only child and he knew that I was capable of running the place.” She made a noise that was half laugh, half cry. “Hell, he'd groomed me for it my entire life.”

“And your mom?”

Hope's hand moved beneath his, as she turned her palm over and linked their fingers for a moment before wiggling them apart. She raised her eyes.

“My mom passed away eight months ago,” she said, her gaze so haunted it made him wish to hell he'd never asked. He watched her take a very slow, steady sip of her beer. “She saw everything start to crumble, she knew something was wrong, but I managed to keep it from her.” Hope sighed and leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “I'm just pleased she didn't see me lose our home. It would have broken her heart and then some, and the last thing she needed on top of cancer was to know the truth.”

Chase knew he had to tread carefully here, didn't want to push her too far. He took a sip of his beer, finishing it, and waved with two fingers in the air to the bartender, pulling out his wallet and putting the bills on the bar. “Unless something's changed between now and when I knew you better than I knew myself, you weren't exactly the kind of woman to take risks. Not risks that'd end up with you homeless and with no ranch to your name.”

Her smile was obviously forced, her lips forming a tight line that gave away her true feelings. When Hope smiled and meant it, her eyes lit up like they were dancing, her lips turning up into a beamer that changed her entire face. He knew that look well because he'd always worked his ass off to make sure he got to see it all the time, and the look on her face right now was nothing like that.

“Sweetheart, tell me,” he said. “You're breaking my heart here.”

She took the second beer he'd offered, plucking at the label, her eyes downcast. “I made a bad decision, Chase,” she told him. “We were so careful not to let anyone close in college without being sure they weren't after us for our money, and then I went and let this happen.”

“Who hurt you, Hope?”

“Let's just say my husband wasn't who I thought he was, even though I'd known him since I was a kid, and it cost me everything,” she said. “I don't have a ranch, I had to sell everything. So what you see,” she said, gesturing to her body, “is what you get. I screwed up and I'm paying the price now.”

His body tensed, the hand not holding his beer instantly fisting. “You gonna tell me what he did so I can do something about it?”

She braved a smile, finally looking up and sipping her beer again. “No. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“You would have told me eventually.” He couldn't take his eyes off her, was so mesmerized by the way she kept pulling her hair over one shoulder, biting her bottom lip when she wasn't sure about something. She might be one of the top AI specialists in the country, but right now it was like they were college kids again, like she was the same young woman who'd made him so damn hard all the time just from being around her and trying to keep things platonic that nothing, not even the most gorgeous goddamn cheerleaders, had been able to take his mind off her. “You know I'd do anything for you though, right? You want my help, you'll get it, no matter what.”

“Can we just talk about something else?” she asked, looking forlorn as she slumped over the bar. “I don't want to talk about everything I've done wrong, and I sure as hell don't want you doing anything about it. Everything that could have been done is done.”

Chase whistled to the bartender, then handed over some cash with a generous tip. “Your best tequila. Two shots.”

“Chase…” Hope cautioned.

“What?” he asked, throwing her a half smile as he took the two shots placed in front of him. “If you don't want to talk about it then the only thing to do is drink tequila, right?”

She shook her head, not taking her eyes off him as she held up the tiny glass. “I'm going to regret this in the morning.”

“We're both gonna regret it in the morning, but since when did that stop us?”

She laughed as he winked. “Bottom's up then, I guess.”

Chase swallowed down the shot, trying not to laugh at Hope's burning-eyed choke.

“You okay?”

“Damn, we were either really drunk when we used to order these or I was a more seasoned straight liquor drinker.”

“Both,” he said, grimacing for her as she finished it and slammed the glass down on the bar.

“Whoa. That burned out all the cobwebs.”

“Another?” Chase asked.

“I think we need to eat first. If I drink any more on an empty stomach you'll regret asking me out.”

Chase nodded to the bartender again and smiled his thanks when he saw the small booth tucked away in the corner was free. It might just be a burger and beer joint, but who the hell said it couldn't be romantic?

“Come on, let's go,” he said, stepping off his stool and holding out a hand to her. It was a genuine gesture, something they'd have done without thinking when they'd been more familiar with each other, but she surprised him by pressing her palm to his and bumping into him as they walked.

*   *   *

Hope's head was spinning and it wasn't just from the alcohol. Being with Chase again was like finding a favorite pair of jeans and realizing that they still fit like a glove. Only Chase was no worn old pair of jeans. The weight of his hand in hers, the strength of his big body beside her, the flash of those dark eyes as he gave her a glance—only Chase could have that effect on her. Everything about him screamed masculinity, even the too-long hair that should have made him look scruffy but instead had the reverse effect—he looked like a Roman gladiator with his curly locks falling past his ears.

They settled into the booth, her going one way and Chase the other, only to end up side by side, thighs brushing. She tried to ignore the sensation of his jeans-clad leg against hers and found it impossible.

“So what'll it be?”

Hope flipped open the menu and studied it, tipping her head to the side as she considered her options. “Let me guess. You're having the Rodeo Burger. There's no chance you'd turn down a Black Angus burger.”

“Am I so predictable?” Chase asked with one eyebrow raised.

Heat flooded her body, those words taking her back in time. She was certain he'd said something like that before she'd ripped off his shirt, popping every button before covering his skin with her mouth. And her tongue. And her … She took a deep breath. The truth was she'd missed a lot about Chase, but it was the physical element of their relationship that flooded her memory banks.

“I think I'll have the Rodeo Tortilla Salad,” she murmured, ignoring his question.

“What, no fries for you?”

There was a twinkle in his gaze that made butterflies dance in her belly again. “Can't I steal some of yours? Or don't you like sharing anymore?”

They were seated side by side but Chase's body was angled just enough so he could stare at her, and she didn't let him have the upper hand, matching the heat and intensity of his gaze with her own. There was no point ignoring it or pretending it wasn't there—the sexual chemistry between them was palpable and she doubted anyone could spend time with them and not notice it.

As if on cue Chase's thigh became firmer against hers, pressed from her knee to her hip, his hand leaving the menu to slide down the table, his fingers nudging hers.

“Hope…”

“
Chase
?” The connection between them was broken as a shrill, drunken voice echoed out. Hope saw the change in Chase's face, watched his eyes go from open to wary to downright pissed. She finally looked away from him and at the woman standing in front of their table, her long, manicured pink nails drumming a beat on the timber top.

“Well, well, Chase King. This why you cancelled on me tonight?”

Hope sighed. This was definitely their college days repeating themselves all over again.

“Hi, Sarah.”

“You gonna introduce me to your friend here, sugar?”

Hope watched as the other woman slid into the booth beside Chase, reaching those long nails out and dancing them across his arm. He moved closer to Hope and she had to hide a smirk. Some things never changed.

“Sarah, this is Hope.”

Hope raised her eyebrows and forced a smile, but she was being thoroughly ignored.

“You wanna have a drink after you finish up here? Or how about you just swing past my place later?”

Chase cleared his throat, moving even harder up against Hope.

“Ah, I don't think so,” Chase told her, his voice firm.

“But Chase,
baby
…”

He threw Hope an apologetic look before turning his full attention to the woman he'd obviously let down tonight to come out with her.

“How about we go outside for a moment and talk in private,” Chase said. “I think there's been a misunderstanding.”

Suddenly things turned nasty. Like clockwork, Chase's calm words seemed to have the absolute opposite effect.

“Chase, baby, you gonna choose”—the other woman glared at her, eyes traveling up then down—“
this
over me?”

Chase's arm went rigid against Hope's, his hand closing possessively over her thigh. “Enough,” he growled out, like a bear disturbed from hibernation. “It's time to go, sweetheart. What we had was fun, but that was it. All fun and no commitment, remember?”

The look on her face was one of pure shock and Hope couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Women flocked to Chase like bees to honey and she couldn't blame them—he was handsome, he was loaded, and he had charm to boot.

“Asshole,” Sarah spat out, raising her hand to slap him.

But Chase was too fast, intercepting it and shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Don't even think about it.”