“It is.”
“It isn’t,” she stressed, Chace opened his mouth to speak but her hand shot up between them and she pressed the tips of her fingers against his lips and went on. “I’ll tell you why I know. Because what you just told me you were doing, you wouldn’t do. Not to me. Not to anyone. You wouldn’t make me care for you only to hurt me. You know whatever it is, I can handle it. Because if you didn’t know that, didn’t believe it, you would not be here right now. That isn’t the type of man you are, Chace, and I don’t care what you think, I know who you are. I don’t know who you think you are but I know who you are. I also know nothing you can tell me will make me think differently.”
Jesus, he fucking hoped so.
She wasn’t done but she moved her fingers from his mouth to cup his jaw before she kept talking.
“I’m glad you like me. I’m glad to know you’re not sharing with me not because you’re testing me but because of why you explained you aren’t though that’s crazy but, whatever. Take your time. I’ll be here and after, I’ll still be here. And I’m glad you thought that was hot. Because I read a lot of romance novels and my toy got a lot of um… uh… you know, use before you so, um… you’re going to get a lot of um… use now too.”
Chace Keaton stared down at Faye Goodknight, her head against the pillows of her bed, her body under his and he wondered how in the fuck six years of misery led him to all the promise that was her.
He’d wanted her for years not having any fucking clue how much of her there was to get, how deep it ran or how sweet it was.
“Now,” she went on, taking him out of his thoughts, “I need to clean up and get some sleep. Malachi is getting sorted tomorrow and I need to be on my game. You can take from that I’m not kicking your ass out. I’ll tell you now, I do have a temper so that doesn’t mean you won’t one day be sleeping on the couch. I know this because Dad did this on occasion and I am a lot like my Mom. But your behind will never be out. And you can take from that that I’m falling for you too. But you know that since you know I already did it thirteen years ago. I’m just glad to know now I picked really, fraking well.”
His heart pounding in his chest which got tight, his hands moved swiftly, framing her face, holding it steady and his voice was thick when he whispered, “Do not say that shit unless you mean it.”
Her hands moved to frame his face too and she whispered back, “I wouldn’t. You know it. I held out for a hero and I don’t give a frak if you don’t think you’re one. I know you are and even if you weren’t one to the whole town, you’re one to me and you can take that to the fraking bank.”
Fuck.
Cute.
Sweet.
His.
That constriction in his chest relaxed and when he asked, “Take it to the bank?” his voice was suddenly light and her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t tease me when I’m being serious and we’re talking deep.”
“Sorry, baby, you just said I could take something to the bank. No one says shit like that except cops in 70’s cop shows. You talk like that I have to give you shit. Got no other choice.”
She started glaring and then she started bossing.
“Get off me. I’m leaking and I don’t like to sleep in a wet spot.”
“When do you ever have to sleep in a wet spot?” he shot back.
“Well… never,” she answered. “But I don’t want to start.”
Cute.
Sweet.
His.
Christ.
He dipped his mouth and touched hers.
When he lifted away, he whispered, “All right, clean up.”
She shifted under him, muttering, “Fine.”
But as she moved, his arm circled her waist, detaining her, and her eyes came back to his.
“I know what you think,” he started to warn gently. “I know why you think it but you made a decision just now so when you get it all from me, darlin’, and you decide to run, you gotta know I’m not letting go.”
“Fine by me,” she replied immediately, lifted up, brushed her bubblegum lips against his then rolled out from under him.
Her short, chocolate brown satin nightie glided down to settle over her ass as she got out of bed and moved toward the bathroom. Chace watched it then watched it move under the fabric until she disappeared.
Then he rolled to his back, her toy rolled into him so he tagged it and replaced it in her nightstand. After, he again settled on his back but this time he lifted his hands and covered his face, pressing the pads of his fingers into his forehead and digging deep.
He did this hoping with everything he was that Faye didn’t lie.
He did this hoping what she read in him was true. Not that he was who she thought he was because he knew he wasn’t.
But that she could take the dark he had inside him without breaking free to run to the light, leaving him behind in black.