Anna was the best he’d ever had. And had been for the past fifteen years of his life. Losing her...well, that was just a stupid thing to allow.
But the thing that scared him most right now was that it might already be too late. That he might have broken things beyond repair.
“And if it is too late?” he asked.
“Chase, you of all people know that when something is forged in fire it comes out the other side that much stronger.” His brother’s expression was hard, his dark eyes dead serious. “This is your fire. You’re in it now. If you let it cool, you lose your chance. So I suggest you get your ass to wherever Anna is right now and you work at fixing this. It’s either that or spend your life as a cold, useless hunk of metal that never became a damn thing.”
* * *
It had not gone as badly as she’d feared. It hadn’t gone perfectly, of course, but she had survived. The lowest point had been when Wendy Maxwell, who was still angry with Anna over the whole Chase thing, had wandered over to her and made disparaging comments about last season’s colors and cuts, all the while implying that Anna’s dress was somehow below the height of fashion. Which, whatever. She had gotten the dress on clearance, so it probably was. Anna might care about looking nice, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass about fashion.
She gave a couple of rat’s asses about what had happened next.
Where’s Chase?
Her newfound commitment to honesty and emotions had compelled her to answer honestly.
We broke up. I’m pretty upset about it.
The other woman had been in no way sympathetic and had in fact proceeded to smug all over the rest of the conversation. But she wasn’t going to focus on the low.
The highs had included talking to several people whom she was going to be working with in the future. And getting two different phone numbers. She had made conversation. She had felt...like she belonged. And she didn’t really think it had anything to do with the dress. Just with her. When you had already put everything out there and had it rejected, what was there to fear beyond that?
She sighed as she pulled into her driveway, straightening when she saw that there was a truck already there.
Chase’s truck.
She put her own into Park, killing the engine and getting out. “What are you doing here, McCormack?” She was furious now. She was all dressed up, wearing her gorgeous dress, and she had just weathered that party on her own, and now he was here. She was going to punch his face.
Chase was sitting on her porch, wearing well-worn jeans and a tight black T-shirt, his cowboy hat firmly in place. He stood up, and as he began to walk toward her, Anna felt a raindrop fall from the sky. Because of course. He was here to kick her while she was down, almost certainly, and it was going to rain.
Thanks, Oregon.
“I came to see you.” He stopped, looking her over, his jaw slightly slack. “I’m really glad that I did.”
“Stop checking me out. You don’t get to look at me like that. I did not put this dress on for you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know. I put this dress on for me. Because I wanted to look beautiful. Because I didn’t care if anybody thought I was pretty enough, or if I’m not fashionable enough for Wendy the mule-faced ex-cheerleader. I did it because I cared. I do that now. I care. For me. Not for you.”
She started to storm past him, the raindrops beginning to fall harder, thicker. He grabbed her arm and stopped her, twirling her toward him. “Don’t walk away. Please.”
“Give me a reason to stop walking.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And hammering.”
“Real hammering, or is this some kind of a euphemism to let me know you’re lonely?”
“Actual hammering. I didn’t feel like I deserved anything else. Not after what happened.”
“You don’t. You don’t deserve to masturbate ever again.”
“Anna...”
“No,” she said. “I can’t do this. I can’t just have a little taste of you. Not when I know what we can have. We can be everything. At first it was like you were my friend, but also we were sleeping together. And I looked at you as two different men. Chase, my friend. And Chase, the guy who was really good with his hands. And his mouth, and his tongue. You get the idea.” She swallowed hard, her throat getting tight. “But at some point...it all blended together. And I can’t separate it anymore. I just can’t. I can’t pull the love that I feel for you out of my chest and keep the friendship. Because they’re all wrapped up in each other. And they’ve become the same thing.”
“It’s all or nothing,” he said, his voice rough.
“Exactly.”
He sighed heavily. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I’m sorry if you came over for a musical and a look at my porcupine pajamas. But I can’t do it.”
He tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. “I knew it was going to be all or nothing.”
“I can even understand why you think that might not be fair—”
“No. When you told me you loved me, I knew it was everything. Or nothing. That was what scared me so much. I have known... For a lot of years, I’ve realized that you were one of the main supports of my entire life. I knew you were one of the things that kept me together after my parents died. One of the only things. And I knew that if I ever lost you...it might finish me off completely.”
“I’m sorry. But I can’t live my life as your support.”
“I know. I’m not suggesting that you do. It’s just...when we started sleeping together, I had the same realization. That we weren’t going to be able to separate the physical from the emotional, from our friendship. That it wasn’t as simple as we pretended it could be. When I came downstairs and saw you in my kitchen...I saw the potential for something I never thought I could have.”
“Why didn’t you think you could have that?”
“I was too afraid. Tragedy happens to other people, Anna. Until it happens to you. And then it’s like...the safety net is just gone. And everything you never thought you could be touched by is suddenly around every corner. You realize you aren’t special. You aren’t safe. If I could lose both my parents like that...I could lose anybody.”
“You can’t live that way,” she said, her heart crumpling. “How in the world can you live that way?”
“You live halfway,” he said. “You let yourself have a little bit of things, and not all of them. You pour your commitment into a place. Your passion into a job, into a goal of restoring a family name when your family is already gone. So you can’t disappoint them even if you do fail.” He took a deep breath. “You keep the best woman you know as a friend, because if she ever became more, your feelings for her could consume you. Anna... If I lost you...I would lose everything.”
She could only stand there, looking at him, feeling like the earth was breaking to pieces beneath her feet. “Why did you—”
“I wanted to at least see it coming.” He lowered his head, shaking it slowly. “I was such an idiot. For a long time. And afraid. I think it’s impossible to go through tragedy like I did, like we did, and not have it change you. I’m not sure it’s even possible to escape it doing so much as defining you. But you can choose how. It was so easy for me to see how you protected yourself. How you shielded yourself. But I didn’t see that I was doing the same thing.”
“I didn’t know,” she said, feeling stupid. Feeling blind.
“Because I didn’t tell you.” He reached up, drawing his thumb over her cheekbone, his expression so empty, so sad. Another side of Chase she hadn’t seen very often. But it was there. It had always been there, she realized that now. “But I’m telling you now. I’m scared. I’ve been scared for a long time. And I’ve made a lot of promises to ghosts to try to atone for stupid things I said when my parents were alive. But I’ve been too afraid to make promises to the people that are actually still in my life. Too afraid to love the people that are still here. It’s easier to make promises to ghosts, Anna. I’m done with that.
“You are here,” he said, cupping her face now, holding her steady. “You’re with me. And I can have you as long as I’m not too big an idiot. As long as you still want to have me. You put yourself out there for me, and I rejected you. I’m so sorry. I know what that cost you, Anna, because I know you. And please understand I didn’t reject you because it wasn’t enough. Because you weren’t enough. It’s because you were too much, and I wasn’t enough. But I’m going to do my best to be enough for you now. Now and forever.”
She could hardly believe what she was hearing, could hardly believe that Chase was standing there making declarations to her. The kind that sounded an awful lot like love. The kind that sounded an awful lot like exactly what she wanted to hear. “Is this because I’m wearing a dress?”
“No.” He chuckled. “You could be wearing coveralls. You could be wearing nothing. Actually, I think I like you best in nothing. But whatever you’re wearing, it wouldn’t change this. It wouldn’t change how I feel. Because I love you in every possible way. As my friend, as my lover. I love you in whatever you wear, a ball gown or engine grease. I love you working on tractors and trying to explain to me how an engine works and watching musicals.”