Page 23

23

HONOR

The top-secret getaway Chase promised turns out to involve a private plane—courtesy of Red Mark. I shouldn’t be surprised by their resources, but still, it feels like stepping into a world I don’t belong to.

“Just a few mini must-haves for Laramie,” Ivy Connor says, handing me a bag as we wait at the airport.

A few? That thing could fit an entire toddler’s wardrobe.

I freeze for half a second, unprepared for her presence. Ivy Connor. I know that face—I’ve seen it on TV a lot when she was attorney general. She’s just as stunning in person, and there’s a polished warmth about her that I can’t help but admire. She’s the kind of woman I almost want to be when I grow up a little more—fearless, eloquent, and effortlessly composed.

“Thank you,” I say, my eyes dipping to the bag she hands me. “There’s a lot in here,” I comment, though Chase immediately takes the bag as if it’s his duty.

Ivy waves it off casually. “Oh, use whatever you need. Trust me, with Ethan, Noah, and the twins running the show, Mark and I aren’t planning on adding more little ones to the mix anytime soon. Well…” She pauses, grinning. “Never say never, but not right now.” She leans down to smooth Laramie’s hair.

Huxley is nearby, his hand brushing against Laramie’s cheek. “Be good, little one,” he whispers affectionately. Then he straightens and looks to Chase and me, all business again. “If she’s affected by the altitude, give her a pacifier. Sucking helps equalize the pressure.”

I nod. “Got it. Thanks for the tip.”

We board the plane, and even after an hour in the air, I still have no clue where we’re headed. Chase is being his usual infuriatingly cryptic self.

Finally, the pilot’s voice cuts through the quiet cabin: “Well, ladies and gent, we are approaching MYF.”

It’s cute that the pilot acknowledges Laramie, but, “MYF?” I glance at Chase.

“Montgomery-Gibbs Executive Airport,” he says with a smirk that makes me suspicious.

“And where might that be?”

“San Diego,” he replies, his grin widening. “Now that’s a place Damon won’t think to look.”

“San Diego?” I repeat, arching a brow. “You’re from California?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Born and raised in Bozeman. But it’s a special place.”

I narrow my eyes. “Special how? Something to do with your SEAL past?”

Chase laughs, his tone teasing. “Good thinking, my dear.”

My dear. Again. And for some reason, I can’t summon the energy to argue about it.

He adds, casually, “My mother lives there.”

I blink. “Your mother?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not a mama’s boy or anything.” His grin shifts into something playful.

I can’t help but laugh, though it does feel a bit like I’ve wandered into a meet-the-parents scenario. “Does she know we’re coming?”

“She does.”

“And your dad?”

His smile falters slightly. “My dad was from San Diego. He met my mom there—she was on vacation. He fell hard enough to follow her back to Bozeman. They stayed there for love—and Dad’s business actually thrived in that city.”

The sweetness of the story makes my heart ache a little.

Chase continues, “Now that Dad’s gone, my mom moved back to San Diego. I think it’s for love too—she misses him. He had an estate there, and she didn’t want to see it fall apart.”

I tilt my head, curiosity piqued. “The estate—is it called Santa Sophia?”

He chuckles, and there’s that mysterious glint in his eye again. “Not exactly. But you’ll see.”

He leans back, clearly done giving away secrets, and I don’t push him further. There’s something in the way he looks out the window, his thoughts miles away, that tells me whatever this getaway is, it’s about more than just hiding from Damon.

* * *

The landing is smooth. By the time we disembark, a sleek Lexus SUV is already waiting for us on the tarmac. I feel like a hundred percent VIP—like I’ve accidentally stumbled into a world I have no business being in.

Chase opens the passenger door for me with a grin that borders on cocky. “After you.”

I eye the car suspiciously. “Okay, are you a secret billionaire or something?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Not even close. I mean, I won’t lie—I grew up with means. Dad was a developer, built some impressive stuff back in his day. But I swear, I’m not some spoiled rich kid. Or adult.”

As if to prove his point, he steps aside to reveal the backseat setup. There, in perfect precision, is a specialized cot for Laramie, complete with safety straps and cushions. He must’ve planned this ahead of time.

“All right,” I say, sliding into the car. “You’re winning me over.”

Chase shuts my door with a chuckle, clearly satisfied.

As we leave the airport behind, Chase drives us away from the bustle of the city and into the woods. Trees close in around us, their shadows flickering across the windshield. Laramie lies in her cot next to me, wide-eyed at the scenery rushing past.

Chase glances at us through the rearview mirror. “Enjoying the view back there?”

I shrug, though I can’t resist a smirk. “I just didn’t want to sit up front and give you any ideas.”

He laughs, his voice rich with amusement. “What kind of ideas would those be, Honor?”

“You know…” I wave a hand vaguely. “The ones where you start thinking we’re some kind of suburban family. I sit in the back to make sure we’re clear on the boundaries.”

“Oh, sure. Nothing says ‘boundaries’ like making me feel like your chauffeur.”

I can’t help laughing. “Well, you’re a pretty good one. I’ll give you that.”

The forest thickens as we wind deeper into it, and then the trees part to reveal something straight out of a dream. The estate comes into view, nestled among the greenery like it’s been waiting for us all along.

“Your mother lives here?” I blow out a slow breath, staring at the sprawling property. It’s big, sure, but it’s not ostentatious. There’s a charm to it, an elegance that blends seamlessly with the surroundings.

“She does,” Chase says, pulling the car to a stop. “Come on, let’s meet her.”

We step out, and I’m immediately struck by the air of quiet peace around the place. It’s nothing like I imagined—not cold or imposing, but warm and alive, as though it holds decades of stories within its walls.

Chase leads me to the front door, which swings open before we can knock. Marianne Samson steps out, petite and graceful, with a smile that instantly disarms me.

“Chase,” she says, enveloping him in a hug before her gaze shifts to me. “And you must be Honor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I manage, still trying to reconcile how this powerhouse of a man came from someone so small and delicate.

“And this,” she says, excitement bubbling beneath her controlled tone, “must be Laramie.” She kneels slightly. Her nurturing expression glows as she takes in the baby.

“She is,” I say, handing Laramie over. “Here, hold her.”

Marianne takes Laramie in her arms, her expression alight with a grandmotherly glow. “Oh, my. She’s beautiful. What a darling little girl.”

Laramie coos, clearly delighted by the attention, and Marianne’s smile grows even warmer.

I watch them together. I hadn’t expected her to be so… welcoming. So genuine.

Marianne glances up at me, her eyes twinkling. Then she looks down at Laramie. “Who wouldn’t fall in love with this sweet face?”

For a moment, I just stand there, taking it all in—the kindness in Marianne’s eyes, the way Chase watches his mother with quiet affection, the calm around this place. It’s not what I expected.

It’s better.

Marianne leads us down a short path to a cottage tucked away from the main house. It’s quaint and charming, with ivy curling up the walls and a little porch that looks like it belongs in a fairy tale. Inside, it’s just as cozy—wood-paneled walls, a thick braided rug on the floor, and a fireplace that’s already stacked with logs. It’s fall, so the chill in the air makes it feel even more inviting.

“Thanks, Mom!” Chase says, dropping the bag of baby supplies near the small sitting area.

“I didn’t have time to find a proper crib for Laramie,” Marianne says, motioning toward a corner where an antique oak box has been turned into a makeshift bed. A small mattress fits perfectly inside, and there’s a quilt draped over the side. “I remembered this box and thought… well, it might do for now.”

“It’s perfect, Marianne,” I say, genuinely touched. Honestly, it’s the most creative baby bed I’ve ever seen—and the kind of thing that’ll have Laramie sleeping better than I will tonight.

Marianne smiles, though she lets out a mock sigh. “If only Chase had told me earlier, I would’ve prepared more.”

“This is more than enough,” I assure her, settling Laramie down in the box. Laramie seems to approve, cooing as she stretches out against the mattress.

“Well, Chase, darling,” Marianne says, turning to her son, “I could use your help with something. The hot water’s been hit or miss, and I’d hate for Honor to get a cold shower.”

“Got it. I’ll take a look.” Chase rolls up his sleeves like it’s no big deal.

As soon as he steps out, Marianne turns to me, her expression softening. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. I don’t know what you said to him, but I’m glad you’re here. Both of you. And Laramie.”

Before I can respond, she pulls me into a hug, warm and firm. It’s comforting, but my thoughts spin wildly. Did Chase say something to her—something that gave her the wrong idea?

“Um, Marianne,” I start hesitantly, “Chase and I are just… friends.”

She pulls back, her smile knowing. “Oh, I know. And don’t worry—I also know Laramie isn’t his.”

“Good,” I say awkwardly, unsure how else to respond.

“It’s just,” she continues, her tone quieter now, “he’s never brought a girl here before. Not once. So, forgive me if I’m a little… curious.”

I manage a small smile, but my cheeks are definitely heating up.

Marianne’s gaze shifts to Laramie, her expression softening even further. “He’s our only child, you know. Between you and me, I always wanted a girl. My husband, well, he got his way with Chase, and I wouldn’t trade him for anything, but…” She trails off, her head ducking slightly.

“It’s okay,” I say gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

Marianne hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “Chase had a… complicated relationship with his father. They loved each other, truly, but it didn’t always come out the right way. They grew apart when Chase was a teenager. He made choices—ones he’s not proud of.”

One of them must’ve been joining the Stoneborn Circle. The thought drifts into my mind unbidden, but I don’t say it out loud.

She looks at me, her voice quieter now. “He’s not perfect, but he knows how to love.”

“I’m no different, Marianne,” I admit.

She nods, her eyes kind, before Chase steps back into the room. “All fixed,” he announces, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “A couple of pipe joints were loose, and there was a small leak, but nothing major.”

“Thank you, love,” Marianne says, walking over to him. She gives him a kiss on the cheek, then turns back to me. “I’ll leave you two to it. If you need anything, just call.”

She steps out, leaving the cottage feeling quieter, but not empty. Chase casts a quick look my way, and for a moment, I think about what Marianne said—about the kind of man he is beneath what I see.