Bossman(69)

It was just a figure of speech, I knew, but I loved the sound of Chase saying when we get home.

Although, what I loved even more was what he did when we arrived at my place. Taking the keys from my hand, he unlocked my bevy of locks on the front door and walked inside first. He then completed my ritualistic entry sweep. Twice. In my exact neurotic order, all while holding Tallulah.

After he finished, he kissed my forehead. “Good?”

Nodding, I pushed up on my toes and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. By the way, I called the guy who did the security at the office. They’re going to install a monitoring system here. I’ve referred a lot of business his way. He owed me a favor, so he’s doing the install free, and the monthly cost will be absorbed into the office bill.”

“What? No.”

“Too late—it’s being installed next week. He’s going to get back to me with which day he can get here. I’ll need a key to let them in, or you’ll need to be here.”

“Chase, I don’t need an alarm.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But it will make me feel better, especially when I’m traveling and out of town.”

“But…”

He lowered his head and silenced me by pressing his lips to mine. “Please. Let me do this. It will make me feel better.”

I huffed and stared at him. Eventually, I gave. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

I dug my extra set of keys out of a drawer for him, told him to relax, and went into the kitchen to make us some omelets for breakfast. We ate in the living room in front of the TV, watching Good Morning America, and then snuggled on the couch, him lying behind me. Although we’d slept for a little while at the hospital, both of us had been sitting up in chairs, which wasn’t productive sleep at all.

I yawned. “Your sister seems great.”

“She’s a pain in the ass. But she’s good people.”

He took a deep breath in and out, and I felt his breathing begin to slow. After only a few minutes, I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke, his voice groggy. “She’s going to make a good mom. So will you someday.”





Chapter 25



Chase – Seven years ago

I couldn’t smile at another person.

“Thank you for coming.” I shook another faceless hand. Next.

“Yes. She was a beautiful woman.” Next.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you.” Next.

It just needed to be over.

I was supposed to ride with Peyton’s mother and her sisters from the funeral service over to the cemetery, but when the back door of the limousine closed, my lungs suddenly felt deprived of air. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fucking breathe. My chest burned, and I knew I was two seconds away from gasping for air. Flinging the door back open, I gulped fresh breaths before excusing myself with a lie that I needed to escort my parents.

A light, misting rain had just begun, and everyone hurried from the church to their parked cars. Tucking my head down, I walked past the row of waiting stretches without anyone noticing. So I just kept on walking. Four or five blocks later, the mist had turned to pouring rain. I was soaked, yet didn’t feel anything. Not a damn thing. Inside and out, I was bone dry.#p#分页标题#e#

My judgment wasn’t the best, which was probably why I decided to walk into a seedy bar a half-mile in the opposite direction of the cemetery and plant myself on a stool.

“Jack and Coke with an extra shot of Jack on the side.”

The old bartender looked me over and nodded. I peeled off my drenched, dark suit jacket and tossed it on the empty chair beside me.

There was only one other person in the bar—an old man who had his head down on the bar and an empty pint glass gripped in his hand.

“What’s up with him?” I asked the bartender when he brought my drinks. He looked over his shoulder.

He shrugged. “That’s Barney.”

He said it like that would explain everything. I nodded and picked up my shot, sucking it back. The liquid singed my throat the same way the air had in the limousine. I slid the empty shot glass back over to the bartender and pointed my eyes down to it with a nod.

He spoke as he poured. “Only ten-thirty in the morning.”

My phone started to ring, so I slipped it from my pocket and tossed it on the bar, hitting ignore without even looking at the name of the caller. Picking up the full shot glass, I again tossed back the liquid. It burned less going down the second time. I liked the way it felt.

“Keep ‘em coming.”

The bartender hesitated. “Got a problem you wanna talk about?”