Page 36 of Make Me Trust Again (Bluebonnet Creek #3)

Color rises up my cheeks at her comment. “Oh, that’s not…” I fiddle with Shadow’s leash. “I mean, we’re not…” I stutter, unsure of what to tell her.

A warm hand presses against my back, making me jump. “Everything okay?”

That deep voice sends a shudder down my spine. I look over my shoulder to find Chase watching me with that silent intensity of his. “Umm… Yeah. Just talking. Did you need anything?”

“The boys are done at this hole,” Chase says, tilting his head slightly.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be?—”

The sharp intake of breath has me turning around just to see the woman take a step back, her wide eyes fixed on Chase. I blink, confused by her reaction for a split second, until I see her horrified reaction. At Chase. At his scars. The damaged side of his face.

My blood turns to ice, and any camaraderie I shared with the woman disappears in an instant. I narrow my gaze at her and stand taller as if I can protect him from her reaction. “You were saying?”

She stutters something unintelligibly as she stumbles over her feet in a hurry to get away. I glare at her retreating back until she’s out of view before turning to Chase.

Those hazel eyes are empty, still locked on the distance, his lips pressed into a tight line, shoulders rigid.

Damn her.

“Chase…” I place my hand on his arm, weighing my words. His muscles jerk at my touch. “Don’t.”

His voice is harsh, his face stoic, the playful man from moments ago gone. I shove back my hurt at his reaction and focus on the impassive man in front of me.

“Chase,” I whisper again, my fingers sliding down his forearm and into his palm, intertwining with his. “Look at me.”

Slowly, so impossibly slowly, he blinks, his gaze coming into focus, but any sign of that gentleness that was there only seconds ago is now gone.

“I shouldn’t have come with you.”

He tries to pull his hand out of mine, but I tighten my hold on him, refusing to let him retreat. “Yes, you should have.”

“Everybody’s staring at us.”

I tilt my chin up. “Let them stare.”

“Rose…” My name is a low growl coming from deep in his lungs, his frustration evident on his face.

“I’m serious, Chase. I don’t care what they think.”

The vein in his jaw twitches. “They think you’re with a monster.”

The anguish and self-condemnation are seeping out of him in waves, and it breaks something in me to see him like this.

“That’s because they don’t know you.”

“And you think you do?”

I flinch slightly at his bitter words, and a trace of regret appears immediately on his face. “Rose, I’m…”

“I know that you’re a man who helps out a single mom whose life is in shambles.

I know that you put this hard exterior out to the world, but you can’t bring yourself to say no to a little boy when he asks you for something, no matter how uncomfortable that makes you feel.

I know that you’re fighting demons I can’t even begin to comprehend, and yet, you sit with a crying woman all night long so she wouldn’t feel so broken and alone.

” My throat bobs as I swallow the knot that’s formed there, my voice turning rough with each word I say.

“I don’t need to know all your secrets, Chase Williams, to see the man you are beneath them. ”

My breathing is ragged as we just stare at one another, my words ringing in the air. They’re true—every single one of them. I might not know every little detail about this man, but I know the things that matter, and that’s enough.

His jaw clenches as he stares at me, the intensity shining in those hazel irises making me feel bare to the bone.

For the first time in years, somebody looks at me.

Not just that, he sees me.

Actually sees me.

It’s unnerving and exhilarating, terrifying and freeing, all at once.

Chase’s fingers tighten around mine gently, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand and sending shivers down my spine.

“You’re the strongest woman I know.”

I shake my head. “I don’t feel strong.”

“You are. You just don’t realize it.”

“You make me want to be.”

The admission comes out in a breathy whisper. My teeth graze over my lower lip as I stare at those warm brown eyes that are pulling me in. Calling out to me. A silent plea. A beacon. And I can’t resist it. I can’t resist him.

Not when he makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.

His gaze. His voice. His touch.

Being around Chase makes me wish for things I never thought were possible. He’s strength and stability, a shoulder to lean on, a warm refuge in a starless night.

And as long as he’s there, I’m not afraid of the dark.

One of those calloused fingers slips under my chin, tilting my head back.

His irises have grown dim, his gaze zeroed in on my mouth as a low rumble comes out of his lungs, making my belly tighten. I want him to kiss me, and I have a feeling I’m not the only one.

The next time I kiss you, you won’t be married to another man.

His words echo in my mind, and yet I can see him fighting for control. Will he do it? I swear I can practically feel his li?—

“Yes! Mom, Chase, I did it!”

We both pull back immediately, our fingers disentangling. Tingles run through my palm, so I curl them into a fist, wishing it were his warm fingers that were still wrapped around mine.

Strong and steady.

Shaking my head, I look up. The boys are standing at a different hole. Kyle’s arms are lifted up in the air as he grins at us. “The ball went in on one swing.”

Since he’s too far to read my lips or read the sign, I lift my hands in the air and clap for him. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind because his friends draw his attention.

“We should go to them.” I peek up at Chase to find him watching me.

He nods and whistles softly for Shadow to follow, his palm sliding to the small of my back as he leads me to the boys, who’ve returned to playing and barely pay us any attention.

“I’m honestly surprised they’re doing so well. I was worried there for a second somebody would get hit with a stick in the head or something.”

“Stick?”

I glance at Chase to find his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You know that metal thingy you use to kick the ball?” I make the swinging motion. “The stick.”

For a moment, he just stares at me, but then his lips press together, and it takes me a second to realize it’s amusement I see reflected in his eyes.

He’s laughing at me.

My cheeks flush. “It’s not a stick, is it?”

He shakes his head. “Putter.”

“That makes zero sense.”

Chase raises a brow. “You’re putting the ball in a hole,” he explains, the corner of his mouth twitching again. “Putter.”

I glare at him and jab my finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Chase Williams.”

“I don’t laugh,” he mutters, his expression turning serious.

“Mm-hmm, so you’d like to think.” I huff, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I never claimed I knew anything about golf.”

“You never played mini golf?”

I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “Nope.”

“Not even when you were a kid?”

“No, that wasn’t my parents’ idea of an appropriate activity.” The moment the words are out, I realize how snobby they sound, so I expand, “It just wasn’t something we did. If you don’t count watching Sunday football, we’re not really a sportsy family.”

Chase just shakes his head, as if he can’t believe it. “C’mon.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me after him. “What?—”

The boys are just finishing at the hole and are turning to leave for the next one. Kyle looks up and smiles. “Are you coming?”

I open my mouth, but Chase answers quicker. “We’ll come soon. I’m going to teach your mom how to play mini golf.”

He’s going to… My head snaps in his direction. “What?”

He can’t be serious.

But he is.

Kyle’s whole face lights up. “Chase’s a really good teacher, Mom. And then we can come and play together.”

He seems so excited by the idea; I don’t have it in me to protest. “Fine.”

“You three go on ahead, and we’ll catch up with you,” Chase instructs, grabbing one of the putters from the bag we got as the boys go ahead. “Here you go.”

I take the putter from Chase, wrapping my fingers around it as he crouches down and puts the ball in place.

“Okay, now what?” I move in front of the ball, like I’ve seen the boys do, and take a slightly bent position. “I just swing the putter and?—”

I suck in a sharp breath as Chase comes behind me, his hands landing on my hips. “You need to relax.”

Relax? How does he think I should do that when he’s standing just behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his body’s warmth seeping into mine, and the scent of the ocean and citrus surrounding me?

“Spread your legs just so and lean a tad bit forward,” he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin as I let his hands move my body as he sees fit.

Chase’s hand shifts to my arms, his fingers covering my palms as he places them in the right spot.

“Just like that. Now you need to swing, nice and easy. You don’t want to move too fast or hit too hard, so you don’t miss the ball or send it flying. ”

He swings our joined hands a few times to give me an idea of what he wants me to do.

“Now you try it, nice and easy.”

He takes a step back, and I miss his touch almost immediately.

My mouth feels dry as I swallow and nod.

Focus, Rose. Golf. You’re playing golf.

Tightening my fingers around the handle, I try to follow Chase’s instructions as I swing the putter—only to miss.

Dang it.

Pressing my lips together, I do it again. This time, the putter connects to the ball and sends it flying across the course.

“I did it!” I turn around, putter in hand, and almost slam it into Chase, but his reflexes are impeccable. His hand shoots up, fingers curling around the bar and stopping it from connecting with his chest.

“I should have known your son got his good hand from somewhere.”

“Shit, sorry.” I let out a nervous chuckle and slowly lowered the putter. “Did I hit you? I just got excited…”

Chase extends his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The tips of those calloused fingers skim over my skin, sending a shiver running down my spine. I hold my breath as his fingers trace down my neck, making goosebumps rise on my skin.

“ Chase… ”

The images of that night flash in my mind. His hand cupping the back of my neck, his fingers rubbing over my skin as his mouth swept over mine.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” His voice is a low rumble inside his chest as his gaze falls to my mouth.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Damn him and his perceptiveness.

“Then don’t hold me like you want to.” The sassy retort is out before I can even blink.

His jaw clenches, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

I’m not sure what’s going on between us, but the pull is undeniable.

It might be stupid and reckless, but a part of me wants him.

And wanting a man like Chase Williams is dangerous.

He showed me all the things that I’ve been missing, and I know just how easily that can slip between my fingers, leaving me broken.

Chase curses under his breath and pulls his hand away, his fingers curling like I’ve burned him.

My stomach squeezes, disappointment pooling inside my belly, but I shove it down and turn my back on him, just in time to catch Kyle swinging at his ball and sending it flying right into the hole in one go.

His arms lift in the air in celebration, and the corner of my mouth lifts a little as I join them.

My son, that’s what I should focus on.

Not the grumpy, broken man who’s walking behind me like a shadow. The man who kisses me like his life depends on it, and who treats my son better than his father ever did.

No, I should most certainly not be thinking about him or all the things he makes me wish for.