Chase wasn’t a player. Yes, he’d bedded his fair share of women, but he’d never been with one who he wanted to protect. He’d felt downright chivalrous when the police had shown up at Aubrey’s door and started hounding her. He wanted to punch the officer in the face, had forced himself to take a breath and speak calmly. It had hurt him to see Aubrey getting upset, to watch her walls go back up. He’d hated to leave the next day, but he had to get back to Chicago to file a piece on the new MacBook and get his assignments for the week. The whole time, all he could think about was getting back to Nashville, holding her in his arms.
He had a whole alternate reality going on. He was supposed to be investigating Aubrey. Instead, he was helping her with her -mother-in-law, bolstering the family in their time of need. He’d liked Tom Hamilton, and while he wanted to get as far away from Daisy as possible, he also hated to leave them. And it was tearing him up because he knew that was crazy. He was looking for a story, not a family.
His boss had warned him about this. Getting too close to a subject. Becoming involved. It killed your perspective, made the story into something it wasn’t.
How was he going to keep on this path? He couldn’t betray Aubrey. She’d been betrayed by too many others.
He heard his boss in his head: That girl must have a magic cooch to get you off the scent.
Maybe you need to follow that line of thinking, Chase. Like the papers said, Mata Hari and all that. You know she has something to do with her husband’s disappearance. You know it.
Yet he didn’t care. All he really wanted was to run his hands along her body, and bury himself inside her. To smell her scent and make her laugh. To wake up with her beside him, curled in a snug little ball against his stomach.
He went back to the window, feeling terribly low. These were dangerous thoughts. Especially after the things the investigation had shown about her. That there was a coldness in her. That she’d acted off from the beginning. That he needed to look deeply into her background, the life she’d led, the people she’d hung out with. Criminals, all.
He didn’t want to see Aubrey get hurt, knew he couldn’t trust her. But . . .
The demon on his shoulder laughed uproariously. You can’t be in love, you idiot. You’ve only seen her twice.
Love?
The idea shocked him into action. The demon was right. He was simply in lust. Aubrey Hamilton was a pretty, vulnerable woman, but she was a story to him. He’d made a mistake bedding her; that was stupid, the result of desire, too much drink, and a deep-seated need to get to the bottom of her mystery and make a name for himself.
But he wasn’t in love. He absolutely wasn’t.
But he was completely compromised, and it was time to own up to the truth.
He called his editor, told him what was going on. That he couldn’t go forward with the story until the wife knew he was doing the piece on her husband. Because, really, unless Josh Hamilton was alive and came back for her, there’d be no story anyway. That he’d find out the truth faster this way, that she’d absolutely play along, and no, of course he wasn’t doing anything stupid.
His editor balked, but Chase promised this was the right angle. Get the wife on board, come at it from the inside.
His editor refused. Push through, he said. This is a huge piece. Career-making, for you and for the paper.
Chase said no. And his editor gave him a choice.
Do the piece, or get a new job.
Without hesitating, he agreed to the latter and quit. Hung up on his boss and his career, ignored the phone when it rang back, his boss’s voice on the answering machine telling him to take a few days and think it over, and clicked on his notes again.
He was going to have to show this picture to Aubrey at some point. Coming clean meant coming clean all the way.
How would she react? How would she feel? Destroyed all over again, probably.
Well, Chase might be the harbinger of ill tidings, but he also planned to stick around and pick up the pieces.
CHAPTER 34
Aubrey
Today
Aubrey purposefully walked by the cafeteria as she left, just in case the creep was there waiting. She didn’t see him, and sagged a bit in relief. Despite her bravado, she didn’t know if she was up for -another confrontation.
She couldn’t get Josh out of her mind, and Daisy’s attack had left her drained and upset. All the old doubts were rising to the surface, her concerns and worries. She used to be so strong. So fearless. With Josh at her side, she could conquer the world.
The new Aubrey was prone to anxiety, carried her Ativan with her everywhere. She recognized that a pill was in order, so she went to the parking garage on the second floor where she’d seen a soda machine once when she was lost in the night. She slid a dollar into the slot and got a bottle of water.
Josh wasn’t the man you knew, Aubrey. Oh, she knew him. Knew every inch of him.
Pill taken, she headed around the building to the aboveground parking lot. She refused to park in the underground lot at night. It was too dark, too lonely. Unsafe.
Aubrey dialed Tyler’s number, put the cell to her ear. Voicemail, again. She left him another message: “Tyler, I need to talk. Please call me when you get this.”