My dad clapped his hands together and stood up. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Good to see ya, son. Let me give you a hand with that.”
Screw brownie points, Chase just earned a lifetime of free sex points.
Chase exchanged pleasantries with Sharon and Dad and set everyone up with a beer and some pizza. Then he came to find me in the kitchen. I was taking a pause.
“You okay, baby?” He looked at me suspiciously. A tight knot squeezed the back of my throat. I had to swallow it down before I could speak.
“Yeah, I’m fine, really.” I chalked my moment up to hormones. Poor Sierra, was this what she dealt with every day?
Chase cupped my cheeks. “Truth, baby. Talk to me.”
I lifted up onto my tippy toes and kissed his nose. “I just love this. All of it. The pizza, the beer, the cupcakes. I know it sounds stupid, but I even love that you thought to grab freaking paper plates. Just being here like this—you, me, my dad, Sharon. It’s exactly how I wanted tonight to go, and I didn’t even know that until we got back here. But you knew. You didn’t have to ask, you just knew what I needed. You knew. I love that. I love you. Thank you.” I meant every single word with every fiber of my being.
He squinted in disbelief then whispered, “Thank me for what?”
Oh god, I wanted to cry. It was paper plates. I needed to get a grip. Freaking paper plates. But it wasn’t, it was so much more. My tears wet his thumbs, but he didn’t wipe them away. He didn’t shift. He just stared into my eyes until I blinked the last tear away. Until I saw clearly again. And I saw it crystal clear. I knew exactly what I was thankful for, and it sure as hell wasn’t paper plates. I closed my eyes and mumbled against his soft lips, “Thank you for giving me my HEA.” It felt beautiful to say it out loud.
Chase took my lips against his as an invitation, as I hoped he would, and kissed me senseless. And all of his gentleman points would had been out the window if my dad walked in the kitchen, but I didn’t care. Not one bit.
“I might not have a clue what you’re talking about, Blue, but I promise you haven’t seen anything yet.” He kissed my lips, then my nose, then each eyelid. Mmm. “We better join your dad and Sharon before they wonder where we went. Fuck...” He stepped back an inch, smirking, before he finished that thought. “You can tell Sierra we have something else in common ... we’re both praying for short and soft right about now.” And then I laughed … really loud.
“Um, so that was a little awkward,” I said, toeing off my flats in Chase’s bedroom. Pete brought us home a little before midnight. Home, I liked the sound of that.
“Which part? Sharon asking you if reading Fifty Shades of Grey would make your dad happy? That was fucking classic. Thinking she probably should have stopped at the second beer.”
“Uhh, could have done without that reminder.” I had already forgotten that, more like blocked it from my short-term memory. “You’re right, that definitely was awkward, but I was referring to saying goodnight to my dad and leaving my apartment so I could sleep in your bed.” Didn’t matter how old I was, I was still his daughter.
Chase fisted the back collar of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. I loved when he did that. “No, Blue ... awkward would have been them staying in the spare room right across the hall, and your dad hearing us not sleep. Because let’s be honest, baby, no fucking way we’re going to sleep right now. And, baby ... you are definitely not quiet.” His grin was too sexy.
“Um, ya think?” I pursed my lips together and unzipped my jeans, way slower than necessary. He definitely deserved a little show. He earned it big time tonight.
“Fuck it, this needs to be fast,” he growled. Huh?
Minutes later, I was naked on my back with my HEA buried deep, and I was definitely not quiet. So far from it.
We both came down from, um—coming, when I said, “So not complaining, but I’m curious, why’d we have to be fast?” I accentuated the “so” because I was so not complaining, but Chase never did fast. Ever.
“Because I didn’t want to be a panting fucking mess ready to explode when I did this.” He rolled off of me to open his nightstand drawer. He pulled something out and quickly rolled back to face me, nodding over to the alarm clock that still topped the dresser across the room. Midnight.
“Happy birthday, Blue.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
He placed a small box in my hand. It wasn’t a velvet box or a Tiffany blue box. It wasn’t that kind of box at all. The small glass case was frosted blue and topped with a stunning abalone mother of pearl shell that was a mixture of amazing iridescent blues.