Breathe (63 page)

Nothing with Chace was a deal breaker.

Not anymore.

Still.

“Um…” I mumbled.

His hands at my head pressed in, his thumbs sliding over my cheekbones, one coming to land on my lips as his face got super close and the lip tip faded clean away before he whispered a thick, rough, “Fuck, Faye, but I fuckin’ love you.”

Okay, I didn’t like curse words all that much.

But that sounded really,
really
good.

“I’m glad,” I whispered back.

His thumbs moved back over my cheekbones then his chin lifted and he kissed my nose before he muttered, “Go clean up, honey, so we can get some shuteye.”

I nodded.

Chace rolled off.

I walked to the bathroom, cleaned up, walked out, went to my dresser and pulled on a new nightie. This one super tight, stretchy and purple that had lace at the cups, was sheer everywhere else and I added the lacy, string-bikini panties that matched.

When I turned to walk back to the bed, Chace’s eyes were on me but aimed low and they didn’t move from my body even as I moved.

I lifted a knee to plant it in the bed and his eyes came to mine.

“Seriously?” he asked a question I didn’t know the answer to.

So I answered, “Um…”

Chace lunged.

We didn’t get shuteye for some time and when we settled, I had the nightie on but the panties were on the floor.

My apartment was dark, we were on our sides, face to face (or my face in his throat, his in the top of my hair), bodies tangled and I was two steps from dream world when he murmured, “Han shot first. Greedo didn’t have a prayer.”

This was the right answer.

Han Solo was badass and Chace knew it.

Therefore, because of that and other more important reasons, I fell asleep smiling.

Chapter Eighteen

My Sister

Chace blinked away sleep, feeling Faye cuddled close to him, smelling her hair, her lingering perfume and seeing the late April sun streaming into her apartment.

His first response was to curl her, already close, closer.

His first thought was that weekend they were going to the mall so they could buy sheets like hers for his bed.

He liked her apartment, he liked the look of it, its vibe, its proximity to La-La Land and work, both his and hers, but he was done with it. Done with two places, two closets, two fridges to fill and morning conversations about which of their two beds they’d end the day in.

She could bring her look and vibe to his place.

He’d decided she was moving in.

This would likely be frowned upon by her mother and father and thus make Faye hesitate.

So he reckoned he best put his ring on her finger.

They hadn’t been together very long so she could have a long engagement just as long as she spent that engagement with his diamond on her finger and her heart-shaped ass in his bed.

Thoughts of her ass sent his hand down to it.

She’d altogether stopped pulling her panties on before going to sleep. She slept in her nighties, something he liked. They were sexy. They felt good. They looked great. But he loved it that she’d shunned the panties.

Which meant, in bed, he always had an all access pass.

He smoothed his palm over her ass as his other arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer. She stirred, tilting her head slightly back, her eyes fluttering, taking their time opening before he had her crystal.

“Hi,” she whispered and his hard cock twitched.

“Mornin’, baby,” he whispered back.

His eyes moved over her face.

He liked her hair like that. It did what she always did, the thick, long bang highlighted her eyes, the layers down the sides did the same to the line of her neck. It was subtle but effective. It made her look more mature but still her age. It was stylish and it was unconsciously sexy.

She snuggled even closer, he ran his hand back over her ass, her hips pressed into his and she tipped her head back further, her eyelids going half-mast.

It was an invitation he took, bending his neck to give her a soft, short, deep kiss.

When he broke it, he murmured against her lips, “You wanna sleep in and I’ll run? Or you wanna make love? Or do you wanna fuck?”

That got him a languid blink before she tipped her chin, moved in and he felt her lips against his throat.

It took her a while to pull it together and he was beyond fucking thrilled when she whispered a word she rarely used but one that never failed to affect him when her soft, quiet, musical voice wrapped around it.

“Fuck.”

Oh yeah.

His fingers dug into her ass, his arm around her waist slid up, his hand diving into her hair. He fisted it, gently pulled her head back and bent his to take her mouth.

This kiss was not soft or short. But it was deep.

Then Chace rolled into her.

Then he set about fucking her.

* * * * *

Chace moved with his empty plate to the sink where Faye was, making a mental note that he didn’t have to buy a new robe. He’d dumped his old one and now at his place she grabbed one of his shirts or tees and since he had the same in her closet and drawers, she’d taken to doing that at her place too.

Which was what she was wearing now, one of his clean shirts, sleeves rolled up, hair wet from their shower, standing at the sink doing breakfast dishes.

He set his plate beside the sink, moved into her back and swept her hair aside so it was mostly hanging over one shoulder, just a sweet layering around her neck.

He dropped his lips there as he slid a hand along her belly

He kissed her lightly then moved his lips to her ear. “Nervous about tonight?”

The Town Council meeting to discuss the future of the library was that night. So far, she hadn’t displayed much reaction to all that was happening. That didn’t mean he didn’t read her concern but she wasn’t letting on she was panicked or freaked.

Then again, they had thousands of signatures on petitions, Cesar had hundreds of phone calls and even people from Chantelle and Gnaw Bone were getting into the action seeing as if Carnal’s library fell, they’d lose that resource too. This included Nina Maxwell sticking her nose into things and Nina didn’t do things by half measures. This was why they had thousands of signatures on petitions. Nina had them circulating around the entire county.

Hands in the soapy water, Faye turned her head, Chace lifted his and she gave him her eyes.

“Not really,” she said quietly. “Maybe I should be but I’m more worried about the fact that Malachi still hasn’t spoken.”

Reflexively, his hand pressed into her stomach.

He was worried about that too. As was everyone including Malachi’s psychologist.

This didn’t only say worse things about what went down with the kid, it also tied their hands with finding who abused him. They had nothing. Zero. Unless they could get it out of him, that was going nowhere.

But recently, it was more.

He’d seemed to be settling. Silas and Sondra were making efforts at socializing him so he went with them to town for dinner, they took him to the library to see Faye, took him grocery shopping. He didn’t seem comfortable with this. He was watchful, wary, but he did it and, like everything else, seemed to be settling into that too.

Except for not speaking and having unusual reactions to everyday things like the television, phones and radios, he was a normal kid. He liked video games. He liked books. He’d gotten used to TV, phones and radios. He paid attention to those around him, laughed, smiled and often bent his head and scribbled on his notebook to share a quip, what he was thinking, feeling or wanted. Which meant they’d learned the kid had a cute sense of humor, he liked
Modern Family
and he had a massive sweet tooth.

But what he shared was never deep. It was never personal. He was amongst them and a part of them but he held himself detached. Although he had definitely formed a bond with Silas and Sondra, the only people he didn’t seem detached from were Chace and Faye. It took a while for Chace to get in but when he got in, he was
in.
The kid didn’t latch himself to either of them but his eyes followed them around a room if they moved, he paid more attention to them when they were speaking and if they left a room, he eventually followed in order to stay close. It wasn’t like he crawled into their laps but if they were with him, he was never far.

But even though they had that connection, he didn’t share with Faye or Chace either.

And in the last week, he seemed the same yet still more distant.

Something was on his mind and even though they all, in their individual ways, tried to find out what it was, he wasn’t sharing.

It was Wednesday, a week and a half after Faye and Chace went to Aspen. Over a month since they found Malachi.

It was time to push.

Chace moved from Faye’s back, grabbed a dish towel, a clean plate in the drainer and started wiping. “I’ll call Karena at CPS and his psychologist. Have a chat with them. See if they agree it’s time to step this shit up.”

Her head twisted to him and her hands arrested in cleaning his plate. “I don’t want him alarmed, Chace.”

“You think I’d do that in a million years, baby?” he asked gently.

He watched her draw in breath before she shook her head.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Chace confirmed. “Never. But he’s gotta get better. He’s gotta start school next year. He’s gotta make friends and the only way he can really feel safe is if we can catch who fucked him up and deal with them so he knows they’ll never hurt him again.”

She sighed, nodded and went back to her plate.

Seconds later, she whispered to the plate, “I’ll kill them.”

“What?” Chace asked.

She rinsed it, put it in the drainer and went after the cutlery at the bottom of the sink.

“You find them, you keep them away from me. I won’t be responsible for what I do if I get near them,” she threatened in her soft, sweet voice which made Chace smile but he didn’t let his amusement become audible. This was because he thought she was cute but she was also being very serious.

When he could keep the humor out of his tone, he promised her, “They’ll be sorted, Faye.”

“I hope so,” she muttered, wiping down the cutlery.

“They’ll be sorted.”

She nodded to the sink, rinsed the cutlery and put it in the drainer. Then she moved to the stove to get the skillet and it occurred to Chace she felt this depth of emotion for a kid she didn’t help create, she didn’t carry in her womb, she didn’t bring into the world.

Which meant when they eventually got down to making a family, she’d give this and likely more to their brood.

Something she had, always.

Something he never did.

Something he’d always wanted.

Something their kids would take for granted.

He’d fucked up, not sharing his secrets, not trusting in the strength she’d displayed since he met her, transferring on her in her shyness his mother’s frailty. It might have been an understandable fuck up but it was a fuck up.

But they had it out, she helped him let it go and then she let it go. The next day it was Chace and Faye, no rehashing it, no searching comments, no penetrating looks. She was over it, she’d helped him over it, she was moving on and she took him with her. Except for the fact that they both understood the depth of their feelings for each other, their commitment to their relationship and that bringing them indelibly closer, drama over, onward.

That was going to be his life. Faye at his side. Faye at his back. Dramas, fights, they’d happen, they’d end and they’d move on. And his kids would have that too, all of it, her devotion, her strength, her brand of quiet but fierce protection and her ability to sort through the shit, lay it out and move on.

He put the last plate away feeling his lips tipped up as she scoured the skillet and he grabbed the cutlery to dry it as he watched her rinse the skillet, the water running over her hands.

Naked hands.

Yeah, he needed to put a ring on her finger.

Soon.

* * * * *

“I’m uncertain why you have a voice in this meeting, Mrs. Maxwell, you don’t even live in Carnal,” Mary Eglund asked, snippy and impatient.

It was eight seventeen in the evening and Chace was sitting in the Town Hall next to Faye and trying with decreasing success not to laugh his ass off.

This was because it was no longer a mystery and also not a surprise that it was Mary Eglund, known as a Jesus Freak and not the handing out daisies and pamphlets kind, was behind the attempted library closure. This was also because, after a few opening comments by Cesar followed by a few inflammatory remarks from Mary, the floor was opened up.