Maddie stood behind him. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Getting a little tipsy?” Chase shook out the shirt. “Hold your arms up.”
She obeyed, lifting them into the air. “I’m sorry about all of this.” Her voice muffled as the cotton shirt got stuck for a moment over her head, and he couldn’t help but grin as he tugged it down. “You must hate this,” she said as her head popped through.
“Hate what?” He yanked the shirt down, and thank God, it was just as long as the dress. Sneaking his arms under the shirt, he fumbled for the zipper in the back. The sides of his arms brushed the swell of her breasts, and he stepped closer without realizing it.
“Being stuck with me,” she said, tipping her head back to meet his stare.
He frowned. “I’m not stuck with you, Maddie.”
She didn’t say anything.
His fingers found the zipper and he pulled. The dress eased down, pooling around her feet, and his hands… God damn it, his hands were on the bare skin of her back. Like he remembered, her skin was as soft as satin.
Chase needed to remove his hands pronto and step back, but she swayed forward, placing her smaller palms on his waist, her bare thighs brushing his. Then she placed her cheek against his chest and sighed.
“I’ve missed you,” she murmured.
He felt something in his chest lurch. “Baby, how can you miss me? We see each other every day.”
“I know.” A tiny sigh leaked out. “But it’s not the same. We’re not the same. And I miss you.”
God, wasn’t that the truth? Ever since that night in his club, things had been different. And right now, he was frozen, caught between knowing he needed to put distance between them and wanting to hold her in his arms. And how many times had he held her like this? Not in recent years, but when she was younger, many times.
The odd, empty spot in his chest he usually ignored warmed. As a kid, he and his brothers couldn’t stand to be in their cold house, surrounded by their mother’s crushed dreams of marriage and their father’s absence, so being around Mitch, Maddie, and their family had always eased that loneliness.
Especially Maddie. She had this way of hers, wiggling herself around his heart. Even during the times they hadn’t really talked, she existed in the back of his mind like a constant ghost, haunting him.
Closing his eyes, he rested his chin atop her head. “I…I miss you, too.”
She lifted her head and smiled sleepily, staring up at him with so much trust in her beautiful eyes, and God, he bet she’d let him do anything to her, right here and right now. His body screamed for it, demanded it, really.
With more willpower than he knew he had, he guided her over to the heart-shaped bed, pulled back the covers, and gently sat her down. In a surprising turn of fate, she didn’t argue with him but slid those curvy, sexy legs under the blanket and laid down.
“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked, lids lowering.
Chase hovered over her, drinking in the sight. He knew exactly how many freckles she had across her nose and cheeks. Twelve, to be exact. Knew that the tiny scar under her full bottom lip, a shade whiter than the rest of her skin, was from a bike accident when she was seven. Knew those lips, depending on her mood, could be so expressive.
He looked over his shoulder. The couch was long and narrow, no doubt as comfortable as sleeping on a pile of boards.
“Chase?” she whispered.
Forcing a smile, he brushed a strand of hair off her face and then, without meaning to, his hand lingered along her cheek, cupping it. She turned to the gesture and another soft sigh leaked from her parted lips. “The couch has my name on it,” he said.
“There’s more than enough room here.” She rolled onto her side, facing him. “I don’t bite.”
The problem was, he kind of hoped she did. “I’m fine.”
Remarkably, she was asleep before he could say anything else, which was a good thing, because if she offered the bed to him again, he wasn’t sure he could refuse a second time.
Chase lowered his lips to her cheek and pressed a kiss there before backing away. Turning off the light, he went to the couch and stretched out, doing his best to get comfortable. That ache was back in his chest again, and this time, he knew it wasn’t for the lack of her hugs.
It was for the lack of her in his life.
Chapter Five
With half a bottle of Tylenol trying to work its magic on the wine-induced headache, Madison winced behind her sunglasses as she shuffled alongside her mother. Touring the vineyards sounded fun, would probably have been pretty interesting, too, if she wasn’t certain a psychotic drummer had taken up residency in her head.