Cowboy Take Me Away (7 page)

“You're a bastard, you know that, Chase King?”

“I never promise what I can't deliver, and I made it clear from the start that we were only casual,” he said, voice as calm as ever, like he was talking a jumper down from a ledge. “I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is what it is.”

Hope was at least impressed with how the other woman sucked it up and left, not saying another word. Mind you, she'd seen the routine before and it often got nasty. Although she had to give Chase credit too—he'd always made it clear back in college that he was a one-night wonder, but women always seemed to think they'd be the one to keep his attention for longer. Which was one of the reasons she'd always said no to him.

“Well, that was awkward,” Chase muttered, seeming embarrassed as he looked up from beneath his thick black lashes. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“Looks like some things never change,” she murmured, trying to make her expression stern.

Chase opened his menu again. “I did cancel on her, but what we had was only casual. You know how it is.”

She knew the drill—he had an embarrassed look on his face, but she doubted he was the least bit worried. “You still haven't found anyone to tame you yet?”

“Believe me,” he said, leaning in close, way too close for comfort, “there've been plenty try but none succeed.”

She gave him a shove, half-playful, half just wanting to get him out of her space. She couldn't breathe with his body up hard to hers, could barely think about anything other than the big, strong, gorgeous man sitting beside her.

“One day you're going to have to settle down, you know that, right?”

“Would you believe me if I said I'd tried?”

It was a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping. “You have? You're not in a relationship now, are you?” she asked. Surely not after the woman he'd just admitted to seeing casually, but still …

Chase nudged her before leaning back into the leather booth seat. “Why? We haven't done anything wrong.”

Maybe they hadn't physically, but the way they'd touched, the way they were behaving, was not okay if either of them was in any kind of a relationship.

“You just had some floozy wanting a booty call with you. Call me crazy but I don't actually think you'd be the kind to cheat if you were actually with someone.”

Chase smiled as a waiter approached them, and he glanced at her as he ordered, raising his eyebrows then ordering for her when she nodded. It was funny how they could just switch back into the comfortable way they'd always been.

“God, we need more alcohol,” he muttered. “But you're right, I might like to love 'em and leave 'em, but I'm not a cheater. Never have been, never will be.”

“Glad to hear you haven't changed,” she told him, pleased when a glass of wine arrived at their table barely minutes after he'd ordered.

“It's an award-winning Willamette Valley pinot, so it should be good. Or at least it sounded good on the wine list.” Chase held up his glass and clinked it softly to hers when she did the same. “To old friends.”

“To old friends,” she repeated, holding his gaze as he took a slow, steady sip from his glass. His eyes were burning into her, not giving her a moment to escape, holding her captive. The red was smooth and silky, just how she liked it. “So tell me. Who was she and how did she almost tame you?”

“You say it like I'm some kind of a wild animal,” he muttered good-naturedly.

“Um, when it comes to the opposite sex? Sorry, but that's exactly what you're like.”

Chase stared at his glass for a long moment before finally raising his eyes. “I'll have you know that I was pretty easy to capture in the end. She was beautiful and smart and funny, and I didn't give a damn about not being able to play around anymore.”

Hope swallowed, hard. “What happened?” If he'd felt like that about a woman, then why had it ended?

“Turns out she was putting on a pretty good show. She lied to me about her past and she was just another gold digger wanting to catch herself a rich husband.”

“Oh, Chase, I'm sorry.” She bit down on her lip, fingers itching to reach out to his, so they could connect like before, but scared of what it might mean if she let herself be the one to initiate something.

“So you're not the only one with a few romantic wounds.” His voice was lighthearted now, the darkness gone. “I'm just pleased I figured her out before things had gone too far. Man, if we'd have been married or had kids…” He paused, his face falling. “Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean…”

“It's fine,” she said, fixing a smile even though she was breaking inside. “Harrison's the best thing that's ever happened to me.” Her heart was pounding, betraying her calm thoughts. She'd never wanted to be a single mom, never wanted to lie to anyone about her child's father, but she'd done her best and Harrison had had the best grandparents in the world to help raise him. She couldn't have asked for a more supportive family if she'd tried.

“It must be pretty crappy having to bring him up on your own though. We sure know how to pick 'em, huh?”

She nodded, her breath coming in short rasps. Was it lying if she just wasn't telling him the whole story?
Or the truth?

“So how did you figure her out?” she asked, avoiding the topic of her being a single mom entirely.

Chase grunted. “Nate didn't like her, thought there was something just not quite right, so we decided to put her to the test. See if she actually was as head over heels in love with me as she claimed to be.” He shrugged. “I thought Nate was full of bullshit, but I went along with it to prove a point and I told her that Granddad had barred us all from inheriting until much later in life, that we had to make our own way in the world and we'd get our third of everything when we turned forty.”

“What happened then?”

“Let's just say that she was only twenty-five and she had no intention of waiting that long to see some serious cash. She was gone by the time I woke up the next morning.”

“Bitch.”

Chase toyed with the stem of his wineglass. “My sentiments exactly.”

They sat in silence for a little while, the country-rock music getting louder as the place became even more crowded. It was nice being out, enjoying adult company instead of being permanently in mommy mode when she wasn't at work. She had some great work colleagues, but between Harrison and work, she hadn't exactly had any time to make new friends.

“So here we are.”

She laughed. “Here we are.”

“You ever think what might have happened if you hadn't bolted on me that morning? Whether things might have turned out differently?”

Hope's body ignited just at the mention of their night together, like flames licking across her skin. “Chase…” She didn't want to discuss it, especially not now.

“No, come on. We were friends, it was years ago, surely we can talk about it.”

She wasn't sure if he was just trying to get a rise out of her, or if he genuinely didn't mind dredging up the past. “For starters, I didn't bolt, I had a plane to catch and you knew it.”

He leaned farther back into the seat, his body stretched out, knee locked against hers. There was no getting away from the man.

“Let's not pretend like that night didn't mean anything, Hope.” His voice was so deep it was seductive, silky, and gruff. She'd resisted him for so long, for so many years, but now that she'd been on the receiving end of that voice, of his touch, she doubted she'd have the same kind of willpower ever again. Not when it came to Chase King, and the temptation was sitting right in front of her.

“Chase,” she cautioned, not sure what else to say.

“It was worth it,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. One curly lock escaped immediately, springing back, and she wanted to touch it so bad it hurt.

His confidence was overpowering, but she refused to let him seduce her if that's what he was trying to do. What had happened between them had been a mistake, that was all. A pleasurable, amazing mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

“Chase, I wasn't one of your one-nighters then, and I'm not now,” she managed, holding her glass so tight she was afraid it would break. “That was just three years of pent-up sexual attraction exploding.”

“I've never mistaken you for a one-nighter, Hope, that's why I've always been waiting for a rematch.”

She glared at him, needing a damn fan to cool herself from the heat surging through every inch of her. “You need another woman to try to slap you tonight?”

Chase held up both hands like he was surrendering, only he snatched her hand into his and linked their fingers before she had a chance to realize what the hell he was doing.

“How about I keep hold of this hand just in case,” he asked, his grin way too infectious to let her stay angry with him.

She noticed the waiter approaching and breathed a big sigh of relief.

“How about you give me my hand back and we eat dinner.”

What she needed was to call her best friend back home. Lisa had been like a sister to her since they were in pre-K, and she was also one of the only people on the planet who knew the truth about Hope's son's father. She dug her nails into her palm. As soon as she got home she was calling Lisa, even if it was the middle of the night.

*   *   *

“Tequila,” Chase announced. “We need tequila.”

He held out a hand for Hope to grab on to, grinning when she took hold. He tugged her from the booth and dragged her toward the bar.

“I really don't think this is a good idea,” Hope said, shaking her head when Chase pulled out a vacant barstool for her. “I'm not a seasoned drinker like you.”

“You used to be.”

“Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.”

“And it would be a shame not to make use of the tequila bar.”

Chase chuckled and leaned forward to order, standing close beside Hope so they could talk over the loud music. He nudged her thigh as he stared down into eyes that seemed to see straight through him. Hope had always had the uncanny ability to make him tell her anything, to bring out the best in him, but it had always made him want her so bad it had taken all his willpower not to proposition her on a daily basis. And what had he done? He'd gritted his damn teeth and pretended like he was fine with them just being friends. But that was then and this was now—and now he didn't wait around when he knew what he wanted.

The shots arrived and he ran his tongue over his lips, moistening the skin that seemed to go dry every time his eyes locked on Hope's mouth. Fuck, he wanted to kiss her. Instead he slammed one palm down on the bar, grabbed the drink, and downed it, watching from the corner of his eye as she did the same.

“Not so hard, was it?”

She giggled. Hope only ever giggled when she was drunk, and it was so goddamn cute.

“No more,” she protested. “My head's going to kill me in the morning.”

“Take ibuprofen before bed. You'll be fine.” Chase waved to the bartender that they wanted two more and spun her barstool around so she was facing him. When her knees fell apart he stepped in, knowing he was taking a risk but not giving a damn. They were all grown up now—he wanted her, and if she felt the same, then nothing was gonna hold him back.

“Chase…”

“Just pick up your drink.”

Hope did as she was told, gingerly collecting the next tiny glass and taking a shoulder-raising breath.

“For old times' sake,” he suggested, holding up his arm and waiting for her to link with him so they could drink at the same time.

They knocked glasses and he smiled at her, a long, slow smile that spread across his lips just from being near her. All this time, all these years, and he knew he'd still do anything for her, even if things were different now.

“Bottom's up,” he murmured.

Hope didn't miss a beat, drinking her tequila down as fast as he did, only she was gasping afterward like she'd just swallowed fire and he was laughing. Admittedly, he and his brothers drank a lot of straight whiskey, so he was used to the burn.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Chase nudged Hope's thighs farther apart, just enough so that he was standing within the triangle of her legs, up close in her space. He finally gave in and reached for her hair, wrapping a long strand around his fingers. Chase bent his head so he could press his forehead to hers.

“Do you try that line on all your women?”

He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “No. Not all women are beautiful like you are.”

“Too smooth, Chase. Too smooth,” she murmured, only just loud enough for him to hear.

“What would you say if I kissed you?” He couldn't take his eyes off her lips now, her hair still tangled around his fingers, her lips parted and plump.

“Don't, Chase.”

“Why not?” He raised his gaze, not letting her look away from him.

“I just…”

Chase waited, but she never finished her sentence. He didn't waste time, cupping her face with his hands as he brought his mouth closer to hers, her ragged breath only spurring him on more. Chase brushed his lips over Hope's slowly, the softest of touches to give her every chance to pull away, and when she didn't, he smiled against her mouth, their lips touching then parting over and over again. But it wasn't enough and it was taking every inch of his willpower not to bend her hard over the counter and strip her down naked. And if they hadn't been in a crowded bar, he doubted he'd be so restrained.

Instead he pushed up harder into her, tasting her mouth as he dipped his tongue against hers, his hands still in her long, golden hair as they kissed. Hope's body was relaxed into his, her mouth matching his, her fingers clenching into his hair now, tugging harder as her lips moved faster. Her moan only spurred him on more, his hands all over her, skimming her waist, resting on her hips. He'd waited a helluva long time for this, and being up close and personal with Hope was every inch as good as he'd remembered.