“You’re right, Chace, that is confusing.”
He grinned, it wasn’t with humor but something else. Something I didn’t get. Maybe sadness. Maybe bleakness. Whatever it was wasn’t good so my fingers automatically gave his thighs a squeeze.
When they did, he kept talking.
“This isn’t easy to explain. And I gotta tell you, honey, I’m feelin’ both fuckin’ thrilled I got the chance I never thought I’d have to do it and lost because I have no idea how to do it and make you understand somethin’ that, from the outside lookin’ in, did not look good. So I’ll just do it straight up. I didn’t see it as cheatin’ on her because in my heart I wasn’t married to her. She meant nothing to me. She trapped me. She did it willfully. She used a way that was seriously jacked. It put my family in harm’s way and in some fucked up place in her head, she thought after she could make me fall in love with her once she had me legally bound to her. I knew her before, in town, in bars and in my bed. She knew the man I was. How she could think for one fuckin’ second she could pull that shit and win me, I don’t know. But she did. Then she quickly learned different. I was not nice to her. While she was breathin’, my thoughts were, she bought that. She didn’t want it anymore, she could walk away and demonstrate she had some good in her and give me the gift of lettin’ me be free. But I’ll admit right now, I was not nice to her partly to make her leave me fuckin’ be. When she wasn’t breathin’, the way I treated her fucked with my head. She was not a good woman. But no woman, good or not, deserves to be shot dead.”
“That’s true,” I whispered.
“It is,” he agreed.
“Chace?” I called. I did it softly but I did it like I didn’t have his attention when he was so close, he was practically all I could see and it couldn’t be argued that I had his complete attention.
“Yeah, baby.”
“I don’t know if you heard the talk. Or I don’t know if someone talked to you about the talk going around town. But you should know that everyone knew something like that happened. And you should know no one blamed you for what you did when you were married to Misty. You should also know everyone always liked you. They wanted better for you. Including me.”
I watched in awe as something washed over his features, something warm yet raw, beautiful but hideous and I felt my chest burn witnessing it.
Then he closed his eyes and pulled me to him so our foreheads were touching.
That felt sweet.
Way sweet.
Beautiful.
I kept talking and he opened his eyes and moved me an inch away as I did.
“You should also know that no one liked Misty but they all agree. They didn’t like her. They figured she trapped you. Everyone knew she lied about Ty Walker. They thought that was crazy and mean and they couldn’t wrap their heads around it. But no one wanted her shot dead.”
“Good to know,” he murmured.
Since his voice was quiet, his hands were warm and strong and we were so close, I felt it safe to keep going.
So I did but haltingly.
“I can’t… I don’t… I mean, I don’t know all that went on and I can’t imagine what it feels like, to be trapped like that, and I really hope I never do. But pretty much anyone in your position would do the same thing so if you’re blaming yourself or feeling guilt about any of that because Misty came to an unexpected dire end, you really shouldn’t.”
“Wish it was easy as that, honey,” he whispered.
He felt guilt.
Frak.
“I do too,” I whispered back then forced a smile at the same time I gave his thighs another squeeze and shared, “But I’ll let you in on a girl secret. A lot of things feel better after a chocolate sundae. So, I bet, you add peanut butter, chopped peanuts and a cherry, it might not sweep all that clean, but it’ll help if only for a little while.”
I hardly got the “ile” out in “while” before one of his hands slid up into the back of my hair and instead of us just being super close, we were super, ultra close because he was kissing me.
Chace tasted of beer. It was the only time I’d ever tasted beer that I absolutely loved it.
I leaned into the kiss, letting the happy haze Chace created whenever his mouth was on mine drift over me. When he ended it, one of my hands was holding tight to the side of his neck, the other pressed deep into the hard wall of his chest and I was breathing heavily.
It seemed to take a year for my eyes to open and I did not care even a little bit because when they finally did, Chace was smiling a small, warm, beautiful smile at me.
Then he was speaking.
Or, in his Chace way, gently ordering.
“Eat your pizza, baby, so I can make you a sundae.”
What could I say?
Except, “Okay.”
Which was exactly what I said.
Then I did exactly what I was told.