Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) (19 page)

* * *

I
turned
on the TV with my laptop resting on my lap after dinner, ready for some more outlining for the later chapters. After a while, I started to yawn.

Chase gave me space when I worked, but as he went to the kitchen to drop off a mug, he must’ve noticed how close I was to dropping and dozing off.

“Couch isn’t that soft,” Chase said behind me.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Come to bed.”

My mind, tickled by the comment, shook off the drowsiness. Did he just say…?

At first it was only an inelegant snort. Then it quickly turned into full-blown laughter, as what he said sank in. “Oh, I’m sure that line works with all the women,” I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing, “but–”

I stopped short as Chase grabbed hold of my hand and tugged. I was forced to keep up with him until we reached his room.

“Chase!” I cried out, a little breathless.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, challenge in his eyes as his met mine.

The laughter died in my throat.

Because I did want it. Badly.

And I watched as he climbed over, going to one side of the bed.

The one where he expected me to sleep.

I was rendered speechless for a little while as I stared.

“W-We can’t sleep together,” I stammered.

He was fighting a smile. “We already have. Three by my count.”

Oh my God. He was
counting
. “This– This is different!”

“How?” he shot back.

“Because– because it just is,” I said, flustered. “I’ve passed out both times.”

“You still stayed,” he pointed out.

Okay, so he was right. Still…

“Isn’t this going a bit too fast?”

He didn’t seem to think it was fast, because he came closer, put an arm around my waist and the other at my back, and without warning, he pulled me down with him. He flipped me over expertly, until he was on top.

Still trying to absorb what had just happened, I tried to move, to get us more on even ground, but he had me pinned. Heat simmered, low.

“No,” he answered simply.

That’s all he was going to say?

“Chase, I just came here two
days
ago.” I was freaking out, and made no effort whatsoever to conceal it.

“I know. I also know you’re scared and don’t know how this is going to go, but baby, if you give this half a chance, I’ll make it worth it.”

My lips parted as what he said came through, and I did it in awe that someone like him could be real. That it could happen at all to
me
. And I felt it deep, even as doubt warred with the new, unbidden feelings that threatened to spill over.

His eyes swept over me, his gaze almost like a caress.

“But–”

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice husky. “Don’t finish that.”

And I was reminded that I slept with him last night, without him trying anything.

Why was I so stupid? Maybe he lost interest in me, and this was all some giant responsibility he now couldn’t get rid of.

I felt my eyes widen as I blurted out like an idiot, “Don’t you want me?”

He stilled. He closed his eyes, as if mustering more patience, and when he opened them, his eyes darkened with heat. “I remember what happened last time, baby. This time, I’m taking it slow.”

He absently ran a thumb along my arm. I fought to suppress a shiver.

Then it dawned on me what he’d said, all this time unaware that I’d already been caught.

“Spinning your web,” I muttered softly under my breath.

But he’d heard.

* * *

I
f my phone
had a life or nine, I probably would’ve already smashed it.

“Rise and shine,” Eva greeted brightly through my phone. I pressed my finger to the answer button on the screen like it was my greatest enemy.

I groaned. Chase had left again for work early. He’d been quiet as he left. He gave me a kiss on my forehead, on my nose, and the corner of my lips. The memory of it made me sigh.

I was normally a morning person, but I’d been a little restless last night, hyper-aware that I was next to Chase, his warm body so close to mine, his breath brushing against my hair, a hand resting on my belly.

Stupid web.

I heard a muffled voice at the other end of the line,

Eva let out a sigh. “Meet at Abe’s?” she suggested. “Sierra’s having coffee withdrawals.”

“I feel her pain,” I sympathized, doing a stretch, trying to shake away the dredges of sleep. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

* * *

We were at Abe’s, seated by the windows. Morning crowd was the best crowd, because there were much less people.

Kate had an elbow on the table as she held open a map, and she bit into her cupcake. “Okay. So– Doug. How do you want to do this?” she asked.

“Maybe it’s better to kind of get a feel for it first,” I suggested. I chose a slice of pineapple pie. Mmm.

“He lives on his own far away on the outskirts of town. I’d say, twenty, thirty minute drive?” Sierra guessed. Then a little hesitantly, she asked, “Should we ask Wes?”

I expressed that it wasn’t a good idea. Besides, I wasn’t sure if Wes would even approve of what we were doing. Plus, he would tell Chase.

“We could make it up,” Eva said. “Maybe say that we’re visiting an old, intimidating friend, and we need to ask him a few questions.”

“Sounds like an interrogation,” Haley mused.

“I’m game,” Sierra was all too happy to reply.

I quickly shot a text to Chase about where we were going, assuring him I had company.

If things went very wrong, we'd be in a whole lot of trouble.

W
es ended up coming
, clueless about what was going on. We managed to dodge most of his questions. He didn’t mind coming, but I could tell he was curious.

We stopped by a series of smaller houses. People were looking at us from their windows, but I stopped by the door, my belly full of dread. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"No you're not." Sierra slapped my back. "Let's do this."

"Ow." I scowled, following behind reluctantly. I took a deep breath, and waited as Sierra knocked.

We didn’t wait long. Doug was tall and burly, and he looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in weeks.

Eva cleared her throat, drawing his attention. “Doug?” she said.

“Yeah?” he answered, his brows furrowing.

“My name is Eva Denvers. You know my brother, Alan?”

“Yeah, I know Alan,” he replied warily.

Relief crossed her expression. “Do you know if–”

“I know Alan,” he repeated, his stance aggressive. “I know dick about you. How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

Her eyes widened, and red crept onto her face. “I– I have ID.”

God. What an ass. As if anyone would just randomly come to his place and claim to be his friend’s sister.

“Don’t know an Alan Denvers,” he said, a smirk forming. “I know an Alan Casey.”

Well, that was a surprise. Kate, Haley and I exchanged a glance.

Eva was caught by surprise too. “Casey was my mother’s maiden name.”

“Try again, sweetheart,” he sneered.

Sierra was already scrolling through her phone. She stopped, as if finding something she was searching for. Then she held it up to him and showed a Facebook page that listed Alan Denvers. “Here you go, dickhead. Or are you going to say Alan’s making this up?”

Surprise flickered on his expression. “He fucking lied?” his voice boomed out.

Oh crap.

His look was positively murderous. We stepped back.

It was then that Wes was walking up, apparently done with parking the car, and pocketing his keys.

“Something wrong here?” he asked, sensing the tension.

“Yeah. Fucked your brother over, woman,” Doug laughed throatily. “Next thing you know, you’ll find his dead body on the–”

We never found out what he said next, because the next thing I knew, Eva’s small fist was in his face.

He took a step backward from the impact. “Bloody hell, woman! Fuck!” he covered his face as his features twisted in pain.

“Don’t you
ever
talk about my brother like that.”

She was nursing her fist but I could see it had reddened and it was starting to tremble. Abruptly, she turned around and ran towards the car. We all followed.

I wasn’t used to seeing her in this state. I was starting to resent her brother for what he did. Sierra put an arm around her.

“Let me see,” Sierra said.

“I’m fine,” Eva replied calmly.

“Evie, I think I’m seeing bl–”

“I said I’m fine!” Then to our horror, she started crying. “I’ll just p-put some ointment and b-bandage on it when I g-get home.”

The hiccups started. Kate, ever-prepared, passed her a bottle of water.

Wes, frowning and a little unsure of what to do, passed her the tissue box.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell just happened? I walked into a man who looked like he wanted to strangle you,” he nodded to Eva, then turned to us, “And you guys looking like you wanted to castrate the guy. Were you planning to start a riot?”

“Ha. Funny,” I chucked the box at him.

“We can’t tell you,” Haley said quietly as she patted Eva’s back soothingly.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because,” Haley replied, lips pursed.

“Because?” Confusion swept through his face.

“Because!”

“They c-can’t tell,” Eva finally spoke, her voice a little shaky. “I made them promise.”

Disbelief colored his expression. “You? You made them promise?”

Then he looked at Sierra, as if he didn’t quite believe the trouble came from Eva.

Sierra glowered at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He looked reflective, then he simply shrugged. “Never gonna understand women. Never gonna try.”

* * *

W
hen I returned home
, it was midday. I felt like making something to eat.

Chase finished early today, and his car was parked out front, but he wasn’t at home.

I opened the fridge door. We had… Leftover roasted chicken, orange juice, some onions, tomatoes, mayonnaise, a block of cheese, and rainbow cake. Plus we had sliced bread and bread rolls from the bakery.

I decided to make a chicken roll. I was in the middle of grating carrots, when I heard the front door open.

He was rolling his neck as he came in wearing a wife beater and sweatpants, a gym towel over his shoulder.

He stopped short when he saw me.

“Didn’t know you were here,” he said, surprise flitting across his face.

His clothes clung to him, and I was still kind of staring.

Last night flashed back in my mind.

“Sherr? Baby?”

Huh?

His voice pulled me out from my daydreaming, and I realized I’d been staring.

“Just came home ten minutes ago,” I said, and I cursed myself because it came out breathy.

Why did I have to be such a dork? I needed a hole to come open up in the ground and swallow me. I averted my eyes and went back to my carrots.

But not before I saw his lips curl up, and the smile touch his eyes. He pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Keep looking at me like that and you won’t get to eat your chicken roll,” he warned.

“This is your fault,” I accused, slicing cheese thinly.

“Uh-huh.” I heard the fridge door shut, and the crunch of a bite of apple.

“You scramble my brain,” I further explained.

What the heck was I saying?

It seemed I only amused him more, because I heard a rumble of laughter deep in his chest. I flicked a small slice of cheese at him. He managed to stifle it, but I could see laughter still dancing in his eyes.

“Making fun of me,” I mumbled, a little miffed.

I removed my toasted bread roll from the grill press and sat it on the plate. Then I took the tomato and–

Suddenly, an arm went over my stomach, just below my breasts, pulling me back towards a warm, hard chest.

The tomato tumbled down the chopping board, and stopped just before it reached the edge.

I felt heat rolling off him, and the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Umm, Chase?”

Without moving, he acknowledged, “Yeah.”

“My chicken –”

As he bent his head down, he kissed my shoulder. My heart squeezed.

“Every time I see you here,” he murmured against my shoulder. Another kiss. “Every time I see you here… It does something to me.”

My pulse sped rapidly.

How did he do it? How on earth did he affect me this way?

He was a whirlwind. He took you and swept you off your feet, and there wasn't a damned thing you could do about it. I don’t know if it was something I loved or hated about him. I decided in that moment that it was both, because you couldn’t really feel one way without knowing the other.

“Really?” I whispered, unable to fully believe that this was really happening.

“Really.”

I turned around, wanting to face him. Needing to. I put my hands on his neck, and felt tears sting my eyes. “Chase, I– thank you.”

“What for?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” I swiped away a tear. “Maybe for giving me a place to stay. For taking care of me. I–”

The next thing I knew, his mouth was on mine, and even though it was sudden, the kiss was tender, exploring.

I moaned against his mouth. His hand tugged at my shirt, and I slipped it off my head. One hand pulled off my hair tie, until the waves of my hair spilled out.

When he kissed me again, it was hungry. Demanding.

Then he expertly undid the clasp of my bra, sliding it down my arms while removing my panties. His arm pushed everything to the side on the counter, and he lifted me up. I laid back, the cold of the granite, contrasting with the heat of his touch.

One hand roamed over my skin, until it reached and grazed over my nipples, and he rocked against me. He kissed my neck.

His head bent down over me, his tongue circled my nipple, and he sucked it deep.

“Chase.”

My hand was on his head as I pulled him closer.

He lifted his head up, and said, his voice low, “Fuck. So sweet.”

I put my legs around him, pulling us closer until he slid in. As fiery as we ignited, he slowed as he lowered, as if committing the moment to memory. It started out slow and teasing, until he went faster, more desperate. His thumb went to my clit, rolling it at the same time as his thrusts, and I clenched hard against him, coming. It seemed to go on for a while, until he groaned against my throat as he came.

We stayed there, unmoving. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing.

He grazed his knuckles over my side.

“Whatever I have is yours. No,” he said firmly when I looked away. I lifted my eyes back to his, and the look he gave me made my breath catch. “Those things you thanked me for… Undone me, baby. I need you to believe it’s yours, whenever you want it. Because when you said that I had you, it also goes the other way.”

Was it really that easy? No, more than that, was it really mine?

I remembered, sitting on our porch as a little girl, being told that anything too good to be true probably was. During my parents’ divorce I had to struggle through that. I was finding that that belief was slowly being eroded by something far more potent, something far easier to sink into and grasp.

Because he made it easy.

He made it so easy for us to be together, and I was fast realizing what that meant.

* * *

A
s I came back
from the bathroom, a picture frame on a side table caught my eye. I noticed it because among the others, it was the only one that was placed facedown. Curious, I walked to it and lifted it up… and I nearly dropped it.

It was us. I remembered this photo. We took it when we were in one of the rented convertible cars, just wanting a night or two outside town. I was laughing as he kissed my cheek, and snapped the shot.

I heard the doorknob twist, and I was dragged back to reality, and quickly put the frame back down.

But he saw.

“You still have it,” I whispered.

His eyes were on the frame, then they went to me. “‘Course.”

“I have mine too,” I admitted, plopping back down on the bed. “It’s stupid. Even when we broke up, I carried it in my wallet, like if I just looked at it, I’d be brought back to that moment. I didn’t want to lose that.”

“Close to you, and everywhere you go,” he mused as he stalked towards me. “I like that.”

I picked at the threads on the corner of the blanket.

“There’s a reason I kept mine, baby. And because that reason’s still there, never going to throw that away,” he nodded towards the frame. “I thought about it. I never could make myself do it.”

“Me too,” I said softly in wonder that he’d felt the same thing, that it was as important to him as it was to me.

He stepped closer to the table and lifted the frame until it sat up, his gaze lingering on the photo.

Then he pulled his gaze away, and turned to me, his eyes filled with resolve. Then he bent down, and pulled something from underneath the bed.

“Got something for you,” he said, pushing a plain folded gift bag towards me.

"What's this?" I held it up, curious. It looked bulky, but it was fairly light as I held it.

"A gift.”

I peeked, just a little. "There's a lot here, Chase," I said, surprised. Then thinking he might've forgotten, said, "It's not my birthday.”

He rolled his eyes. "I know. May fifteen, I haven't forgotten."

"Then why–"

"I missed three.”

He missed three birthdays, so he was giving me presents?

Before I knew it, my eyes stung with tears. “I don’t have anything for you,” I told him, my voice thick with emotion. “Why are you trying to make me cry?”