Page 17 of More Than A Fixer-Upper (Hope Runs Deep #13)

Rosalie

Lunch with Chase is just as easy and fun as dinner the other night.

The conversation flows naturally never forced.

He tells me about the town’s back to school traditions: a parade before the first football game, a fall festival, and all the little things that make this place feel like home.

It sounds like the kind of town where my kids can thrive.

Drew sends pictures of him and his new friends. I send him money so they can grab lunch. Winnie and Hailey are having fun at the mall, and Hailey’s influence is showing Winnie’s even sending me photos of the clothes she’s picking out. I approve of every one.

The internet tech arrives, and Chase helps him while I clean up from lunch and prep dinner. It’s nice having someone to bounce ideas off of. Chase and the tech laugh as they walk into the kitchen, and I smile.

“You now have the highest internet we offer,” the tech says. “Mrs. Rosa already had everything just needed a few upgrades. If you could sign here, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks so much,” I say, signing the paperwork and returning to the meatballs.

Chase lets the tech out and comes back into the kitchen. I’m not paying attention, and we collide. The bowl of spaghetti sauce I’m seasoning spills all over his light blue shirt.

My eyes widen. I tuck my lips in, trying not to laugh.

“I am so sorry,” I say, but the giggles burst out of me.

“I don’t think you are,” he grumbles, scowling playfully.

“I’ve got a washer through that door,” I say, rushing to clean up the mess before it stains the tile. I hear the washer lid slam shut as I mop up the floor and toss the dirty dishes into the sink.

I grab the sprayer and start rinsing dishes, mentally listing what I need to replace now that the sauce is ruined.

“Can I help?” Chase asks, and I spin around spraying him square in the chest.

He grabs the sprayer, and somehow we both end up drenched. The sprayer clatters back into place, and suddenly I’m in his arms. My lips find his before my brain can stop me.

The kiss starts frantic, then deepens. I moan into his mouth, and he pulls me closer. His hands are firm, steady, and warm against my back.

“Rosalie,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Take me,” I whisper, breathless.

He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist. We’re kissing again by the time we reach the landing. Inside my room, the tension builds. We shed our wet clothes in a rush, laughter mixing with desire.

“This first time,” he says, voice husky, “is going to be fast and intense. I’ve imagined you like this more times than I should admit.”

I crawl onto the bed, slow and deliberate. He groans. I love that I have this effect on him.

We come together like we’ve been waiting years for this moment. It’s raw, electric, and full of need. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise.

Afterward, I lie there catching my breath, heart pounding, skin flushed.

I glance over at Chase, who’s watching me with something unreadable in his eyes.

I hope this isn’t a onetime thing.

Because this man?

He’s more than I ever expected.