Breathe (57 page)

I’d never been served in a home before by anyone other than the owner of the home. It would be weird but not torture.

So I replied quietly, “All right, Chace. That actually sounds kind of cool.”

He turned into a handsome, curving drive that was lit on both sides with those lights that rose out of the turf. “Food’ll be rich, complicated and there’ll be a lot of it. You don’t like somethin’, don’t be polite and eat it. Just eat what you like.”

“Okay, honey.”

He kept winding up the drive to a large, rambling house set into a mountain backdrop lit full on by lights at the front. The brick was a lovely mixture of whites and pinks. The landscaping, even under the melting April snow, was supremely attractive.

“She’s in your space, you’re uncomfortable, give me a sign and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll be fine, Chace.”

“Don’t worry about what I’ll think, just give me a sign,” he reiterated while he parked.

He turned off the ignition, I reached a hand out and curled it around his thigh and his eyes came to me.

“I love you.”

Every centimeter of air in the cab of his truck went still as he stared at me by the dashboard lights and I stared back at him.

I said it.

I meant it.

I meant for him to get me and it.

But I wasn’t planning on it.

Still, I had to roll with it.

“You love her. I’ll love her because I love you and not a crush love like I was feeling for thirteen years. A real love for a good man who teases me and makes me laugh and makes me feel safe and holds me close at night and watches way too much sports and not enough geek TV and gives me amazing orgasms, one of which I had before walking out of my house this very night.” I paused, he said not a word, I struggled against having a heart attack and then finished lamely, “And you can take that to the bank.”

Then I wasn’t in my seat.

My seatbelt flew back and I was hauled across the cab, my booty wedged between Chace and the steering wheel, his hand was in my hair, his other arm was tight around me, his lips were crushing mine and his tongue was invading my mouth.

Okay, so, he liked it that I loved him.

Good to know.

I melted into him, rounding his neck with my arms, pressing into him and let him have everything he wanted to take. Apparently, he wanted to take a lot because the kiss lasted a long time. It went from heated to scorching and it was one of those times I felt Chace’s effort to tear his lips from mine when he eventually did.

But he didn’t let me go and put me back in my seat.

He buried his face in my neck and breathed.

“To sum up,” I wheezed, my breath still coming fast, my heart turning over with happiness, “Stop worrying, honey. Everything will be
just fine.
”

“You’re a fucking miracle,” he whispered against my skin and I closed my eyes.

I loved that he thought that about me.

“I’m a woman,” I whispered back.

“You’re an angel.”

God.

God,
I loved him.

Totally.

“Okay, but I’m yours and I think God frowns on some of our more miraculous activities, activities I enjoy so perhaps we can keep that title on the hush-hush and I’ll just be your woman.”

He lifted his head and looked down at me through the subdued light. I felt his eyes gentle on me, saw his face was soft and relaxed before he whispered, “Works for me.”

My ploy which included me sharing life-altering emotion worked.

I grinned.

He grinned back, bent his neck, touched his mouth to mine then shifted me, depositing me back in my seat.

He turned the SUV lights off and he was at my door by the time I hopped down which meant he had a steadying hand on my elbow when I did. That hand slid down so his fingers could lace in mine as he pulled me out of the door and slammed it. Then he walked me across the dry, very black blacktop asphalt to his front door.

Weirdly, it seemed the snow had been trimmed at the side of the drive, it was so perfectly removed. So I guessed when you had gobs of money you had money to spend on people manicuring your snow.

Interesting.

The door was thrown open before we got to the semi-circular set of eight steps (I counted) that got narrower and narrower until we hit the top. Another dither died when I saw the elegantly attired, extremely attractive blonde woman with a soft updo wearing a light pink cocktail dress and high heels smiling gleefully at us.

I wasn’t overdressed. Fraking brilliant.

“Chace, my darling and
Faye
,” she gushed, stepping out into the chill night air and throwing her arms wide. “I’ve been on pins and needles all day. No!” she cried, “All
week.
”

I smiled up at her then grew a little concerned because she wasn’t big, I wasn’t big but Chace
was,
she wasn’t moving and her step would not hold all three of us unless we huddled together like a miniature football team.

This problem was sorted when we made it to her and she threw herself in Chace’s arms, forcing him to let my hand go and round her with them thus not taking up much room.

“Ma,” he muttered.

“Chace, my beautiful boy.”

That was sweet.

He pulled back but she didn’t. Her arms went from around his shoulders so her hands could frame his face and she beamed up at him a second before letting him go and turning to me.

“Faye,” she said, throwing her arms wide which meant one of them slammed into Chace but although he shifted (as best he could which meant one of his cowboy booted feet had to step down a step) she didn’t seem to notice.

I moved quickly into her arms in order to conserve space and gave her a tight hug.

“Mrs. Keaton,” I whispered in her ear then pulled back but not out of her arms. “Chace talks about you all the time. I’m so pleased to finally meet you.”

She dipped her chin bashfully and fluttered her eyes and really, even though she was older, she worked it.

Then her eyes moved over me and something changed in them that wasn’t bad but it wasn’t altogether good either.

“You’re a beauty. A
true
beauty. Natural.” Her arm left me and her hand lifted as if she was going to touch my hair before it fell away and she moved minutely back. “Red. I thought a blonde would suit Chace better but I was very wrong.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“And please, call me Valerie. Mrs. Keaton sounds so… so…” her eyes slid to the side before coming back to me so she could finish, “
stuffy.
”

“Valerie it is then,” I replied on a smile.

“Ma, you think we could move inside?” Chace prompted.

She jumped away from me, clasping her hands in front of her and I fought the urge to reach out to her in case she tumbled over the step to the inside.

“Of course, of course, let’s get you inside and those coats off. I’m
dying
to see Faye’s dress. From what I can see, it looks
beautiful.
”

I heard Chace sigh as I felt his fingers curl around my elbow, we moved in behind her and all stopped in a huge foyer with a massive chandelier hanging down over it, the gazillions of crystals dancing prisms everywhere.

“Enrique,” she said to a man wearing a white shirt and dark slacks standing close by, “please take Faye and Chace’s coats. We’ll take drinks in the sitting room. Faye, what would you like to drink?”

Chace was helping me out of my long, cream wool coat as I shifted my little black clutch from hand to hand and answered, “A glass of white wine.”

“Excellent,” she smiled at me then her eyes went to Chace, “Beer, darling?”

“Yeah, Ma,” Chace muttered, handing our coats to Enrique.

Taking in Chace without his long, wool black overcoat, the skirt around my hips, hand down my panties orgasm, I had to admit, was helped by the fact he was in a very well-tailored, dark blue suit with an open-necked blue shirt the color of his eyes. His belt buckle with the suit was subdued western but still western and the cowboy boots were all Chace. Still, like his mother and I, he made an effort and, as was his way, succeeded wildly.

Enrique moving off with our coats, Valerie led the way to the “sitting room” which was the most formal room I’d ever been in in my life. It was done in soft pinks that were nearly cream and just plain creams. Even in a room that formal I took my cue from Valerie and Chace who settled in like it was your everyday family room, Valerie in an armchair, Chace and I side by side on a couch.

As I was tucking my purse next to me, Valerie said, “I didn’t know what you liked, Faye, and Chace told me you seemed to like everything except pineapple on pizza. But we’re not having pizza so I told Donatta to do it up but avoid pineapple. I hope you brought your appetite.”

“I always do,” I replied on a smile. “But just so you know, I like pineapple just not on pizza.”

“Excellent!” she cried with more excitement than was needed then clasped her hands in front of her again and leaned from her pinky-cream armchair toward Chace and me on the creamy-cream couch and she noted, “Chace tells me you’re a librarian.”

“I am,” I confirmed.

To which she exclaimed, “I love books!”

I laughed softly and shared, “I do too. It’s kind of important to like them when you spend all day around them. What’s your favorite book?”

This was a mistake. Huge. Though I couldn’t fathom why.

Still, I saw it. She sat back sharply, her face grew pale, the fingers of her hands in front of her started fidgeting, her eyes darted to Chace and she looked suddenly terrified.

I felt my body get stiff at her reaction but Chace prompted quietly, “Your favorite book, Ma.”

Her eyes skittered to me then back to Chace and she whispered, “I…” but stopped.

It then occurred to me that she was worried what her favorite book would say about her. She wanted me to like her and she wanted this so much, she was terrified of just being her.

“I have lots of favorite books,” I cut in and her eyes came back to me so I smiled gently and went on, “Let’s see, there’s Rosamund Pilcher’s
The Shell Seekers
and
Oryx and Crake
by Margaret Atwood. Then there’s
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café
by Fannie Flagg and
Skinny Legs and All
by Tom Robbins. I could go on and bore you for hours,” I told her. “And I haven’t even started on the romance novels.”

The fear left her face and she leaned toward me again. “Oo, I like Carly Phillips.”

I leaned toward her, smiling big. “I do too. She’s awesome.
The Bachelor,
” I told her one of my favorites.

“
The Playboy.
” She gave me one of hers.

“
The Heartbreaker.
” I one-upped her.

She sat back again but this time grinning, “Those Chandler brothers…” she trailed off needing to say no more.

“I know,” I agreed.

“Where’s my beer?” Chace asked.

I looked to him and burst out laughing then I looked back at Valerie and said through my laughter, “I’m sure you know this but Chace watches
way
too much sports on TV. I’m trying to expand his horizons by introducing him to my television shows but he’s reluctant. I’ll admit, my shows are geeky, Valerie, but they’re
awesome.
So I guess romance novels are
way
out of his realm of exciting dinner conversation.”

She smiled at me and replied, “Then we’ll endeavor to find something Chace likes to discuss.”

“Do you know the Avs chances at the Stanley Cup this year?” I asked.

“No,” she answered.

“Then perhaps we can talk him into explaining ballistics,” I suggested and it was Valerie’s turn to burst out laughing.

Enrique came in with a tray of drinks and as he handed them around, Valerie wiped a non-existent tear of laughter from her eye and belatedly replied, “I fear, Faye, as interesting as my son is, if he explained ballistics,
I
would find it outside the realm of exciting dinner conversation to the point I’d fall asleep.”

“Luckily your furniture is comfortable because I probably would too. Though I’d be worried I’d get my makeup on it if I stretched out to take a ballistics induced nap,” I told her.

“Then we’ll retire to the less formal family room when Chace tells us about ballistics,” she told me. “I don’t mind makeup on my furniture but the furniture in there is much more comfortable.”

“Two sleeping women in cocktail dresses. Terrific. Let’s do that. You can sleep, I can put on the game,” Chace muttered and my eyes shot to Valerie.