Just Let Me Love You (15 page)

“So you’re sure you’re okay with me staying in Vegas this next week?” he asks. It’s a question that has been asked and answered too many times to count.

Still, I reassure him, “Yes, absolutely, Chase. I’ll be so busy during the first few days of school that I probably won’t even notice you’re not around.”

That remark gets his attention.

Raising his head from the pillow and peering down at me, he says, “Yeah, right.”

“Okay,” I acquiesce, smiling. “Maybe that’s an exaggeration.”

“Even if that’s true”—Chase rolls on top of me—“I better make sure you have lots of hot memories to keep you going.”

Wrapping my legs around his strong body, I say, “Hmm, hot memories, huh? Sounds like a plan.”

And then we get started on making what turns out to be a
very hot
memory.

T
he following morning Abby leaves with Will for their first family counseling session. The house is quiet, since Greg’s still away on business. Chase and I are only too happy to take advantage of all the alone time by spending the morning in bed.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Chase asks as he slides me off of him. He props himself up on one elbow, facing me.

It’s been a morning full of loving, lots of loving, but it’s time to cool things down.

“Hmm,” I say. “Let’s go see something interesting.”

“Interesting?” he says. “Like what?”

“Like a major tourist attraction or something.”

“Okay,” Chase replies. He ponders for a minute then says, “How about a trip down to the Grand Canyon?”

I’ve never been there, and I’m quick to reply, “Ooh, I like that idea.”

“But before we go…” Chase raises a suggestive brow.

Reaching over, he skims his hand down to the curve of my hip, where he squeezes and pulls me to him.

“What?” I ask, playing clueless.

“Oh, you know what,” he says.

And then the talking ends.

So much for cooling things down. Let’s just say it takes us an extra hour before we are out the door and on the road.

When we eventually make it down to Arizona—late in the day—I am awed by the Grand Canyon.

Standing at a South Rim observation point, with the just-beginning-to-set sun sizzling into the horizon, I marvel, “Wow, Chase. This is just… I have no words. Just wow.”

Chase comes up from behind me and encircles me in his arms. “It is amazing, isn’t it?” he murmurs in my ear.

“Now I wish we’d gotten here sooner,” I confess. “I don’t think I want to turn around and leave.”

“We don’t have to go.” Chase nuzzles his chin in my hair. “We can stay overnight if you want.”

“Really?” I lean back against his hard chest. “What would we do? Sleep in the car?”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against my back. “No, no sleeping in the car. I had a feeling you’d like it down here, so I brought along some camping gear. It’s in the trunk.”

“Ah…” I turn in his arms to face him. “That’s why you wanted to take the rental car and not the bike.”

“You found me out,” he says, laughing. And then, in a more serious tone, “I wanted to surprise you with the option of staying.”

I reach up and touch the side of his face. “You always think of everything, don’t you?”

“I just want to make you happy, Kay,” he replies.

“I am happy,” I assure him. “I’m very happy.”

And it’s true. In this moment, I couldn’t be any happier.

For whatever reason, the canyon is not particularly busy, so Chase and I retrieve our gear from the trunk, secure a camping permit from the park office in no time, and proceed to hike down to the canyon base by nightfall.

We find a good spot to set up our tent and unroll the two sleeping bags Chase had the foresight to bring. After we’re completely settled, Chase makes a small fire. And then we sit in front of Chase’s fire, shoulder-to shoulder, a blanket wrapped around our backs as we share a canteen of water and a couple of energy bars.

“Look at all the stars,” I muse as I gesture to the velvety black sky where a billion dots of light twinkle and glow.

Chase shrugs the blanket off our shoulders and stretches it wide behind us on the desert floor.

As he leans us back gently, he says, “Ah, now there’s a better view.”

I snuggle into him and place my head on his chest. “I swear I’ve never seen so many stars,” I murmur.

He kisses the top of my head, and asks, “Would you say there are more stars here than back in Harmony Creek?”

The reminder of our rooftop picnic makes me smile.

“There may be more here,” I reply, “but our stars back home will always be the best.”

Chase chuckles. “Hate to break it to you, sweet girl, but these are the same exact stars.”

“Ah, don’t ruin it for me,” I tease.

Feeling playful, I roll to my stomach and place a hand on his chest. “And too bad for you, if you do ruin it,” I add cryptically.

With his hand going to mine—covering, holding—he inquires, “What does that mean, babe?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I coyly respond.

“Tell me,” he insists.

“Okay,” I relent. “I was thinking if these stars are different, then we should make love under them. Kind of christen them out here in the desert, you know?” I shrug. “But, hey, since they’re the same, why bother—”

I get no further. Chase swiftly flips me to my back and pins me under his solid body.

With his lips grazing mine, he whispers, “I was wrong. Oh, so wrong. These stars are most definitely different”—he kisses me fully on the mouth—“and most definitely in need of christening.”

“Well,” I murmur, breathless. “When you put it like that…”

Chase and I then make love under the stars—once, twice, numerous times throughout the night. It feels as nature intended—bodies bare and joined, as man and woman, as husband and wife.

I love Chase with my body, yes, but also with my heart and soul. And he loves me in return, in the same ways, as indicated by his tender kisses and reverent touches as we move as one.

When I think I have nothing left—
no baby, no more,
I cry out—he shows me how wrong I am.

With measured thrusts, he urges, “Come for me one more time, Kay.”

I lift my hips, my body knowing better than I, even as I utter, “I can’t.”

“You can,” he rasps, his pace increasing.

And with Chase in me, on me, over me, and around me, I discover he is right.

One final time, in the deep of the night and under the stars, I come undone for my husband, Chase Gartner.

Chase

S
ending Kay back to Harmony Creek without me turns out to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. She’s become such a part of my life, and our bond transcends the marriage vows we took.

Put in the simplest terms, when Kay breathes, I breathe.

Before my love boards the plane, she wraps her little arms around me best as she can. In a choked-up voice, she says, “Do you realize this will be the first time we’ve been apart since we first met?”

Surely that can’t be right.

“Wait,” I say. “We spent our nights apart in the early days. Remember, we didn’t sleep in the same bed until after we were together for almost a month.”

The first night we ever spent together was when Kay showed up on my doorstep, frightened and hurt from the junkie who had accosted her in her then-apartment parking lot.

With her cheek pressed firmly to my chest, she murmurs, “Still, Chase, we were together every day…even when I was mad at you over the incident with Missy.”

She trails off, and I murmur, “Ah, yes, the incident with Missy.”

Kay was pissed when she learned of an encounter I had, of the sexual variety, with her friend. Although, in my defense, the encounter happened before I met Kay. And she wasn’t so much mad over the event, she was pissed I’d never told her.

But that was then, and this is now.

Peering up at me, Kay says, “Even then, Chase, even when I was angry, I was always right next door to you. I never left your side.”

“No, you didn’t,” I reply.

Recalling the night we reconciled, I smile down at her. “You were right there with me. I saw the lights in your apartment. And when you came outside, you forgave me. I was playing old records, and we danced under the stars, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” she says, her cheek returning to rest against my chest. “That was also the night I told you about Sarah.”

Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I murmur, “You trusted me enough to share that horrible night with me.”

“And you trusted me enough to forgive me,” she whispers.

“There was nothing to forgive, Kay. You did nothing wrong the night Sarah passed away. You were a victim as much as she was.”

She looks up at me slowly. Her eyes hold mine, bleeding truth and caramel. “Still, Chase, you gave me the absolution I sought.”

“Baby…”

My heart aches with the sadness she still carries. Her pain is my pain. These burdens of ours, we share.

I hold her tightly. “Do you want me to go back with you to Ohio today? Because, I will, Kay, I will.”

My brother needs me, yes, but I will board that plane in a heartbeat if my wife needs me more.

But she shakes her head and assures me, “No. I want you to stay here for Will. I’ll be fine, Chase. Like I told you, school will keep me busy. And I’ll be waiting for you when you come home to Harmony Creek.”

“It’s not Harmony Creek that’s my home,” I tell her. “It’s you, Kay.
You
are my home.”

“Come back to me soon, then.”

Kay is practically sobbing and has to pull away to get herself together.

When the plane starts to board, I reach out and wipe away the last of her tears. “Be strong,” I urge her.

She taps my chest. “You, too.”

And then she is gone.

I am left alone, and, fuck, do I ever
feel
alone.

“How am I going to make it through this next week,” I mumble to myself as I turn to leave the terminal.

I have no choice, though, but to be fine. I have to be strong for Will.

I smile. That kid is sure to keep me occupied, too. I know I can count on that.

School for Kay kicks off next Tuesday, the day after Labor Day, but Will doesn’t start tenth grade for another week. We’re sure to have plenty of time to hang out and bond.

And over the next couple of days, that is exactly how things go. Will and I spend all our time together.

Then, on Sunday afternoon, Will asks me if I can do something for him.

“Hey, Chase,” he says, walking into the kitchen at lunchtime. “Can you do me a favor?”

I am at the table, finishing up a sandwich, and between bites, I ask, “Sure. What’s up?”

Will plops down in a chair across from me. His greens turn somber as he asks, “Can you take me over to Cassie’s house this afternoon?”

Arching an eyebrow, I say, “I thought you two broke up the other day.”

Will frowns and runs his fingers through his messy hair. “No, I couldn’t do it then. That’s why I need you to drive me over there today.”

I push away my plate. “Sure, I can take you.”

Sighing, Will adds, “I figure a face-to-face is better than a text or a call. Cassie at least deserves that, right?”

“You know best,” I say, unsure of how to proceed.

Ending relationships is uncharted territory for me. Before Kay, I didn’t bother with girlfriends. I had lots of women, sure, but nothing ever lasted longer than what it took to get off, get her off, and get out.

“Can we leave soon?” Will asks, a little desperately. “I want to get this over with.”

“Yeah, no problem.” I give him a pat on the shoulder as I stand. When I take my plate over to the sink to wash it off, I throw out over my shoulder, “I’ll grab my keys in a sec and meet you out by the car.”

“Thanks, bro,” Will replies before he leaves.

With Will out of the room, under my breath, I murmur, “Shit. I hope this goes well.”

A half an hour later, we are sitting in the rental car, idling in Cassie’s driveway.

I turn to Will and ask, “Want me to take off for a while? I can come back for you in a couple of hours.”

“No.” Will shakes his head, his expression grim. “Can you just wait here? I won’t be too long.”