Claiming Chase: (A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance) (9 page)

BOOK: Claiming Chase: (A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance)
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I wake up. It’s an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. I’m not alone in my bed for once. Tangled in the sheets, wrapped sleepily around me, is Charity’s warm, naked body — her skin so soft.

I watch her as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful, so content, so beautiful. Her hair frames her face, tumbling over the pillow, her sumptuous lips slightly parted, her eyelids closed.

And still half asleep, she snuggles up a little closer to me, moving her hand from beneath the pillow and gently throwing her arm around me as she pulls me tighter to her.

Her eyes still closed, her mouth curls in a soft smile before she whispers, “I love you,” still half asleep.

The words sting me like a thorn.

What? She
loves
me?

This is too much, too soon.

I can’t do this. This was a fucking
mistake
.

I can see exactly what would happen from hereon in: sure, she’d say that she wanted to stay in the city, finish up her PhD, but I’d be living in some soulless gated community in Connecticut before I even knew what was happening, commuting to work while she sits there, complaining about our kids, her friends, everything …

“Do you want a fucking engagement ring now? Is that it?” I snap, pushing myself up in bed, her arm slipping from my chest.

“What?” she murmurs, confused, still only just coming round from a deep sleep.

She might seem confused, but deep down it’s what they all want: get the rich man, tie him down, the whole white wedding fantasy.

“I don’t understand,” she says.

“What do you want from me, Charity?” I say.

She wraps the sheet around herself defensively as she sits up in bed.

“Jesus, Chase,” she says quietly, pushing the hair from her face. “Isn’t it a little early in the morning for this?”

“What do you
want
from me, Charity,” I repeat, coldly.

She sighs, still somewhat confused, but clocking now that I’m being serious.

“I guess at first,” she begins, “I just wanted answers. I felt like I couldn’t get over the past, what had happened between us, not without finding out how you really felt. But I didn’t expect this. I really didn’t. And I know what you mean, Chase. It
is
a bit weird — you and me. But I thought we could see where this goes.”

“You mean you want to
go steady
?” I sneer. “You mean you want me to be your
boyfriend
?”

“I don’t know, Chase,” she sighs. “Like I said, I just want to see where this goes.” 

“I don’t think there is anywhere else for this to go,” I say, quiet and cold. “This is as far as I go, I’m afraid.”

“What do you mean, Chase,” she says, turning to me now, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, resting her hand gently on my shoulder.

I push it away.

“I think we’re done here, Charity,” I say.

I need to get her out of here, but I can see that I’ll need to do this as delicately as possible. She’s already getting upset, her eyes filling with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Listen,” I say, trying to keep my voice measured and calm, “I don’t know what you want from me, but you must know that I’m not the kind of guy to settle down, with you or anyone. It’s just not who I am. I don’t want you to get hurt. And I hope you’ve got some closure now, or whatever it was you came here looking for. Now, if you’ll excused me, I’ve got work to do.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, impassive. I force myself to remain silent as I watch her gathering her things, trembling and crying.

“I don’t know what I did,” she says. “What I did wrong. Please. Chase. Talk to me.”

But I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the floor.

This is the only way I won’t crack, the only way I won’t change my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eleven Years Ago ...

 

It was the last thing I wanted to do that summer. But Mom said I had no choice. Every year since my parents’ divorce, we’d spent the summer with my Mom’s family on Sanibel Island, Florida. I loved going there. As an only child, I loved spending the whole summer with my cousins. My house was always so quiet, but Aunt Sarah’s was full of noise — full of children, fun and games, and laughter. The island was safe and quiet, so we were allowed to go off exploring on our own. So whenever I needed some time alone, I could disappear with a book for hours. It was perfect.

But that year was different.

My mom had remarried in the spring, and Alan was a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. I had nothing against him. Until the day they sat me down, and told me that since they hadn’t had a proper honeymoon, they were going to spend the summer touring Europe.

Since it was their honeymoon, of course I wasn’t invited.

I thought they were going to send me to Aunt Sarah’s on my own, to stay with my cousins as usual. But instead, they told me that I was going to be spending the whole summer with my dad, at his beach house.

Apparently, without consulting me, they’d all decided that I needed to spend some more quality time with my dad.

And I
did
love spending time with my dad. I was a real Daddy’s girl in fact. I really missed him, since he’d moved out of state. The problem was that he’d
remarried, too.

Now I’m older, of course I understand. But back then? I really didn’t get what he saw in Cassie. She was nothing like my mom. She pretended like she wanted to be my best friend, but I knew deep down she resented my presence. She was mean and stupid, and she had my dad wrapped around her little finger.

I’d only met her once before, on a weekend visit.

I knew my mom didn’t like her either. Nothing spiteful — the divorce was as amicable as these things can be. Really, she was just concerned for my dad, and my relationship with him. It was important to my mom that my dad was always in my life. This woman had ‘gold digger’ written all over her, and that usually means trouble.

“I know you’re gonna miss your cousins, sweetheart,” my mom said, that evening after dinner, “but you’re not going to be left alone with your dad and Cassie. Don’t forget that Cassie’s son is about the same age as you, and he’ll be there too. So you’ll have someone to hang out with.”

Of course. I’d heard about Cassie’s son. But I’d never met him. He was supposed to be there that first weekend I’d come to stay, but in the end he’d never shown up.

And I was hoping he was going to do the same disappearing act at the beach house, too. I’d heard he was bad news. I don’t know what Dad had told Mom, but from what I’d gathered, he’d been kicked out of more than one school, and was getting into all kinds of trouble with the police.

I thought about using this to my advantage. Surely there was no way that Mom was gonna pack me off to spend the summer with an out of control teenage boy. Maybe I could tell her what I knew about him, and maybe embellish the facts a little too, for good measure?

But even though I hadn’t been consulted, I knew that they were right. I wanted to spend more time with Dad. I missed him. And if it meant that I had to put up with Cassie and her tear away son, too, then so be it.

 

§

 

“Charity, my little angel! It’s so good to see you!” said my dad as he swept me up in his arms in a great big hug, giving me a spin for good measure.

“And you too, Daddy,” I replied, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Where’s Cassie?”

“She’s back at the beach house,” he replied. “It is happy hour after all,” he added with a laugh. “Now, give me your suitcase and we’ll get out of here. You’ve had a long flight.”

As we walked out to the car, he began to fill me in on the changes he’d made to the beach house since my last visit.

It was early evening, and the air was finally beginning to cool, although it was obvious that it had been a scorching hot day.

“I hope you didn’t pack too many sweaters, sweetie,” he said. “Because you’re sure not gonna need them. It’s been hotter than hell all weekend, and apparently it’s only gonna get worse.”

“I guess I won’t be needing that ski suit I packed after all,” I laughed. 

Back at the house, he really wasn’t joking about it being happy hour. It was only 9 pm, but Cassie was already pretty wasted.

“Look who it isn’t!” she cooed, stumbling towards me on her heels as we stepped through the door. “My beautiful stepdaughter!”

She gave me a theatrical hug, half-choking me in her clouds of perfume. And dressed as she was in just her bikini top and a tiny pair of denim cut-offs, it felt weird hugging her, like she was practically naked.

As soon as my dad left the room to take my bags upstairs, she offered me a sip of her frozen margarita. “I won’t tell your dad,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

I faked a smile and shook my head.

I guessed I was just gonna have to quietly put up with her trying to be my best friend for the next eight weeks.

“Actually, Cassie, I’m beat,” I said. “I’ve had a long journey. I think I’m just gonna head up to my room and lie down.”

 

§

 

By ten o’ clock the next morning, the heat was already unbearable. Cassie was still in bed, sleeping off her hangover, and Dad was at work in the tiny makeshift office he’d set up in the attic.

He worked as an architect, which meant that even though he was spending the whole summer here, he was still at work.

That first morning, I brought him coffee, but he made it clear that the most useful thing I could do was get out of his hair.

So much for spending ‘quality time’ with my dad.

I spent the next few hours exploring the little town, which didn’t take long. The small stretch of sandy beach was crowded, and it was just too hot for me, anyway. I’d never really been a fan of sunbathing. I walked to the store, and bought a popsicle, then headed slowly home, the sun beating down on me.

Back at the beach house, I pulled a sun lounger into the shade of the porch. And I got the feeling that this would be where I was going to spend most of the summer. So I grabbed a pitcher of lemonade, a good book, and settled down until dinner time.

I’ll say one thing for Cassie — the woman could certainly cook.

That evening, we sat down to a fantastic Mediterranean-style feast, which she washed down with plenty of white wine. So here we were. Just the three of us. I suddenly found myself longing for the fun evenings with my cousins, and I remembered what Mom had said.

“Hey, Cassie?” I asked. “Wasn’t your son supposed to be joining us?”

“You mean
Chase
?” she laughed. “There’s a lotta stuff Chase is supposed to do. But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna do it. That boy’s just as useless as his father.”

At this, my dad coughed. 

“What Cassie means,” he interrupted, “is that Chase is spending the week with friends, and we expect him here in a few days.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Cassie sneered, raising her glass to her lips. “That boy will be the death of me …”

I couldn’t help it.

I was intrigued.

I wanted to find out more gossip about Chase (I mean, who was actually called
Chase
, anyway?), but my dad quickly changed the subject.

“How was your day, anyway, sweetie?” he asked.

“Pretty quiet,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey!” Cassie interjected. “Maybe tomorrow we could go hang out on the beach together? Have some fun, you and me?”

“Thanks, Cassie,” I said, “but I get sunburnt so easily. I’m better off in the shade, I think …”

“If I had your beautiful alabaster complexion, I’d stay out of the sun too,” Cassie said, and I could see that inside she was a little hurt by my rejection.

So I resolved that night to be kinder to her. She might not have been my cup of tea, but at least she was trying.

“How about the mall sometime?” I offered. “I’ve hardly brought any suitable clothes with me.”

At this, she brightened up.

“You know me,” she laughed. “Born to shop!”

 

§

 

So that was the first full day of my summer break, and the rest of the week passed in pretty much the same way — in a daze, as I tried to escape the heat.

Dressed in a baggy old t-shirt and denim cut-offs, I spent my time as predicted, lounging in the shade of the porch with a good book. It was the summer I first read Jane Austen, and I just couldn’t seem to get enough.

I’d been there almost a full week when one morning I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.

It was only five a.m., but I’d been awake for what felt like hours when I finally decided to get out of bed and take my usual spot on the porch.

I was reading
Emma
for the second time. The porch was cooler than my bedroom, and after reading for a while, I even felt like I might be able to drift off to sleep out there.

And just as I was closing my eyes, my mind floating away, the early morning silence was broken by a low, rumbling noise.

I sat up, startled, looking out in the direction of the noise, which seemed to be growing louder now. Whatever it was, it was obviously coming this way.

And though I was definitely awake, it felt like a dream as I watched the boy on the motorbike ride up the path to the house, stopping right in front of me, just a few feet from the porch.

Chase
, I thought.
This must be him. He’s decided to finally show up after all.

“Hi, Chase,” I called out from the porch. “So you finally made it, then?”

He climbed off his bike, and took a few steps closer to me.

He was tall and toned, with the kind of tan that suggested he spent a lot of time outside, but at the same time, he didn’t look like the sunbathing type.

I could see the smallest hint of a tattoo, peeking out from the sleeve of his beat up leather jacket, and his blue jeans were stained here and there with motorcycle oil.

Then he removed his sunglasses. And boy was I glad that I’d managed to say something before seeing his face properly. Because: Oh. My. God. Of all the things I’d heard about Chase, no one had told me that he was absolutely drop dead
gorgeous.

I’d never seen eyes like those before.

They weren’t just blue, they were sapphire blue.

And when he looked straight at me it was like all the oxygen had been sucked from my body.

“Excuse me?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I
said
, is my mom in?”

And that’s when I realized he must have been talking to me while all the time I’d just been flat-out staring at him.

“Yes!” I finally managed to make the words come out. “I mean, yes, she’s in. But she’s not awake. Nobody’s awake. Except me. I got up early. And you. So I guess you must have got up early, too?”

I could feel my pale skin turning a bright pink as I realized with embarrassment just how much I’d been babbling.

And as if to make it even worse, he answered with such a cool, calm reply.

“I haven’t exactly been to bed yet,” he murmured with a wry smile. 

He stood there, staring at me, and it was a few moments before I could collect myself and speak again.

“So yeah,” I blurted out. “Maybe like try and be quiet when you go in? Cause you don’t want to wake them up. Cassie usually sleeps in pretty late. But then you probably know that already?”

“Whatever,” he sighed, then turned and began to head back over to his bike.

I watched, dumbfounded, as he threw his leg back over the bike, revved the engine into life, then rode off, leaving me standing there in the unreal, early morning half-light of the porch, wondering if that exchange had even happened.

 

§

 

He came back again that night, just in time for dinner. So I guess he must have been real after all.

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