Breathe (Colorado Mountain 4)

I had a close loving family. My Dad was a character. My Mom was a nurturer. My sister was a drama queen, but loving. My brother was a rebel, but also loving. I was a dreamer, a geek and shy, but, I hoped, loving.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around how Chace grew up. And the fact that he had no brothers or sisters (something Chace told me his Mom couldn’t do, something else that distressed her to an unhealthy extreme) made me sad. I’d lay down my life for Liza and Jude. They felt the same.

But no one had Chace’s back.

The more I learned, the more it seemed that this was ever. No one ever had his back. Not growing up. Not now. Not Misty. Definitely not his Dad. Not even his Mom who loved him, but depended on him. She was so frail, he had no choice but to do everything he could, even as a kid, not to depend on her.

These thoughts fled my head when Chace stopped our conversation on the couch and started kissing me. This didn’t last as long as I would have liked and got nowhere near past kissing. This was kind of a relief because I had a sense he understood I wasn’t experienced but I wasn’t sure he knew the extent of my inexperience and I wasn’t all fired up for him to know (just yet). But truthfully, it was more of a disappointment because, seriously, he was a good kisser and I was definitely into it. So into it, when he stopped it in a sweet way and in an equally sweet way announced it was time he was getting on, I was thinking that I could do nothing but just kiss him for eternity.

His leaving was not a relief, just a disappointment.

I didn’t share that, I just nodded.

He got up, pulled me out of the couch and walked me to the door. He put on his jacket. Then we made out more by the door.

He stopped that too (way too soon), kissed my nose in that sweet way he did in my office and murmured, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

He smiled.

Then he was gone.

I’d had four dates. Not a vast amount of experience.

Still, I knew that was not a good date.

It was a great one.

I knew this because it got heavy. It got deep. But it was also light and fun. He was interested in me, didn’t mind showing it and digging to learn more. He didn’t mind that I showed I was interested in him and, when I cautiously dug, he was open and honest. We laughed. We cuddled. We made out.

And chocolate peanut butter sundaes were the bomb.

Lying in bed thinking of our night, I sighed.

The last thing he did last night was promise to call.

The first thing he did this morning was keep his promise.

That was when, in bed, I smiled.

Then I threw back the covers and got out.

* * * * *

Eight twenty-nine the same day

I jumped when my passenger side door was thrown open but I didn’t cry out this time.

This was because I knew when I turned my head, I’d find Chace.

And this was what I found.

I smiled at him, accepted the heart flutter that witnessing his return smile gave me and saw he was in much the same outfit as yesterday. But under his jacket, he had an oatmeal, wool, crewneck sweater on over his jeans shirt, a jeans shirt that was a lot more faded. It looked good against his tanned skin so I hoped one day I’d see all of it.

It must be said that Chace’s clothes were cool. He always looked like he’d walked straight from the pages of a beer advertisement marketed toward wannabe cowboys, rodeo stars and country singers. But with him, the way he walked, held himself, his extreme masculinity, his height, the lean muscle evident under his clothes, it was not a case of the clothes making the man.

Not even close.

It was the other way around.

He was extending my coffee, I took it and he hefted himself in while I examined the cup.

Sunny or Shambles were branching out. In teal, purple, hot pink, tangerine, lime and yellow marker were stars and hearts with fat, colored in swirls around them. It actually was kind of a mini coffee cup work of art.

“Faye.”

My head came up from examining my coffee cup as my heart again fluttered at Chace saying my name in a soft voice.

The instant my head came up, he tagged me around the back of the neck and pulled me to him.

Then he kissed me.

This was a new one.

I had very limited experience kissing. In fact, the kisses I’d shared with Chace more than doubled the kisses I’d had my whole life. I liked them all (Chace’s, that was).

Including this one.

His mouth moved over mine then opened slightly so I followed suit. Then his tongue slid in, not a thrust, not an invasion but a lazy stroke.

My belly melted, my blood heated and I nearly lost my coffee.

He broke his mouth from mine but only moved about a millimeter away.

“Mornin’,” he whispered, his deep blue eyes looking into mine.

“Morning, Chace,” I whispered back and watched his eyes smile.

His hand took it’s time sliding from my neck, taking my hair with it in a way that felt like he was enjoying running it through his fingers.

Then he sat back in his seat and his eyes moved to the library.

I took an unsteady breath and took a sip of my coffee.

Another hazelnut latte. It didn’t occur to me yesterday but it occurred to me then that he had to have asked Sunny or Shambles what my usual was and got it for me.

A nice thing to do.

Having this thought, my eyes moved to the library too. I’d gotten smart and parked on the street but on the side opposite the library, about a house down. I’d also kept the heat pumping. But before this, I laid out the stash.

“I take it, you’re here, no sign of him yet,” Chace noted, eyes to the library, lifting his cup to his mouth and taking a sip after he was done talking.

“Nope,” I replied and watched him take a sip.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t noticed. I way had. But having had those lips on mine and now sitting in my truck with him so close and no drama happening, it hit me in a way it never had before how attractive his lips were. The bottom one full, little sexy ridges in it, the top one well formed, more ridges, a perfect match.

It also hit me how square and strong his jaw was and that I’d never seen it, not once, with stubble on it. Not even a hint.

But I bet he’d look good with stubble.

Then again he’d look good with anything.

It further hit me that he had very cut cheekbones. So cut, they hollowed out his cheeks. Since he had a perfect, straight, strong nose, blond hair and blue eyes, that jaw, those lips, his cheekbones and those hollows adjusted his Man Category. Without them, he’d be the cute boy next door.

With them, he was the rugged, rural mountain town cop who’d seen it all, wasn’t impressed by much and didn’t take any shit.