Page 12 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

M egan

Gavin scoots his chair backward. “I think I’ll go?—”

“ Sit down ,” Chase says, his tone unwavering.

“Yup. Sitting,” Gavin says, scooting back up to the spot he just held. He looks at me and grimaces before looking away.

I laugh in confusion. “What the hell is going on here?”

Gavin settles in as if resigned to what’s to come. On the other hand, Chase gives me a look like I’m a fool.

Words are on the tip of my tongue, and my lips part to launch them into the air. I turn to Chase … and then stop.

My head swivels back to Gavin, and I gasp.

Broad shoulders.

Green eyes.

Overconfidence.

My jaw drops. “Gavin, you little shit.”

He holds his hands out to the sides. “What?”

“How do you know her?” Chase asks, focusing his gaze on Gavin.

“ Her ?” Gavin nods toward me, his face paling. “I don’t really know her. She’s … a customer.”

“A customer?” I ask, making Gavin flinch. I point at Chase. “And how do you know him ?”

“ Him ?” Gavin sneaks a look at Chase and then quickly looks at me again. “I don’t really know him?—”

“ Really ?” Chase barks. “You don’t know me?”

Gavin cringes. Again.

The twinkle in his eye. His growing amusement …

“You’re related, aren’t you?” I ask, my blood pressure rising. “What are you—brothers?”

Chase drags a chair from a neighboring table to ours. It screeches as the legs dig into the laminate floor. Even in my state of shock, I can’t help but notice how his ass fills out his jeans.

Now is not the time, Megan.

“Will someone explain this to me?” I ask, ripping my eyes away from Chase.

Gavin sighs. “Well, Meg?—”

“Meg?” Chase asks, screwing his face up like something is foul. “ Meg ?”

“What? We’re friends,” Gavin says.

“ Were ,” I say, pointing at him. “We were friends. Our friendship is on shaky ground right now.”

“Why? Because I didn’t tell you that Chase was my brother? In the spirit of transparency, I have two other brothers, Mallet and Luke. And a sister named Kate.”

I glare at him. “Cute.”

“ What ?”

I lean forward, resting my chest against the table. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Gavin looks offended. “I knew what?”

“Last night, you knew I was talking about Chase.”

“You were talking about me?” Chase asks.

Annoyed at the situation, I whip my head to him. “Can you please stay out of this conversation?”

“Hell no, I can’t.”

“Why are you even here?” I ask, desperately trying to hold tight to my annoyance. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll rob you or something?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, but you make me want to.” I roll my eyes and turn to his brother. “Yes or no? Did you know I was talking about Chase last night?”

Gavin bites his lip and watches me.

“Gavin …” I warn.

He sighs. “Maybe. Kind of . I put two and two together when you started talking about Mom.”

I throw my hands in the air.

“So that means you knew all about Megan when we were building the fence this morning,” Chase says.

“Oh, so you were talking about me ?” I ask, throwing his question back at him.

Chase glares at me before leveling it at Gavin.

Gavin looks back and forth between the two of us. With each turn of his head, the smirk on his face grows wider.

“Careful …” Chase warns.

Finally, as if he can’t restrain himself a moment longer, Gavin bursts into laughter.

I lean back in my seat and shake my head. The men in this family are killing me .

Gavin stands and pushes his chair toward the table. “You two need to talk. This whole thing you’re doing is the most bizarre but entertaining thing I’ve seen in a long time— and Luke is our brother .” He walks backward away from the table. “I’ll see you both later. Enjoy.”

I try to stare a hole into him, but he practically skips out the door.

My chin tilts toward the ceiling in what feels strangely like defeat.

Chase moves at my side, his knee brushing against mine. A lick of fire races through my body. Nooooo, Megan. We don’t like this rude Neanderthal.

“Why are you here?” I ask without looking at him. My voice is dull, free of emotion of any kind.

“We need to talk.”

“That’s funny. I distinctly remember you refusing to talk a few hours ago.”

He groans. “Will you look at me, please?”

I don’t want to look at him because, if I do, I’ll lose the upper hand. If I even have the upper hand . But I can’t sit staring at the dollars on the ceiling all afternoon. If nothing else, my neck will ache.

Stay in control.

Grinning because I know it’ll annoy him, I lower my chin. “Only because you said please.”

He’s not entertained. But I am.

Holy fuck, he’s something to look at .

Chase is handsome in the traditional ways—excellent bone structure, great lips, and thick lashes. But it’s the more subtle things—the way he flexes his fingers, the calluses on his hands, an implacable look that makes me wonder what he’s thinking—that make it hard to breathe.

“There,” I say, looking as far into his eyes as I can. “I’m looking at you.”

His tongue sweeps around his lips. “Look, Megan …” He takes a long, deep breath. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

“I think we already established that.”

He flashes me a look. “Let’s … restart.”

I don’t want to begin again with Chase, mostly because I’m not sure why he wants to.

I’m leaving town in the morning. There’s no need to be friendly or to end our acquaintance any differently.

We’ll never see each other again … unless he wants to walk back his position on me helping him with Kennedy.

In that case, I’m better off just keeping things as they are.

The man gets under my skin like no other.

I’ll get under his before he can get under mine any more than he already has.

“Are we starting over before or after I saw you naked?” I ask, resting my chin on my hand.

His gaze shifts to the ceiling this time.

“Let’s go with after that particular moment,” I say as his cheeks turn slightly pink. “It’s the only interaction we’ve had so far that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed.”

Slowly, he lowers his gaze back to mine. When it connects, it’s so intense that I shiver.

“I’m trying to be serious here,” he says.

“Me too.”

He runs a hand down his face and then down his thigh. There are stress lines around his eyes; surprisingly, I feel bad for teasing him.

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry,” I say, frowning. I shove a hand toward him. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here. I’m Megan Kramer. What’s your name?”

He takes my hand warily and shakes it. A zip of energy shoots through me.

“I’m Chase.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Chase,” I say.

He drops my hand. “Are we doing all of this?”

“Hey, this was your idea. You said you wanted to start over.”

He stares at me.

I rest my chin in my hand again and stare back at him.

“You know this isn’t necessary, right?” I ask. “We can leave things as they are. As they were. I’m leaving town tomorrow, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He starts to speak but stops.

Something in the way he watches me—a heated promise, maybe—has me holding my breath. Why are you here, Chase?

“I acted a little out of pocket today,” he says carefully.

My brows shoot to the ceiling. That’s not what I expected .

“I was surprised to see you, and I didn’t handle myself very well.” He slides his hands down his legs again. “I think we both got fiery and should’ve approached the situation more calmly.”

Okay … “Well, you make me fiery when you accuse me of being a bad person.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“You did .”

He sits back in his chair. The legs squeak with the movement.

I study him, picking up on his frustration, which seems higher than mine. His right leg bounces to a beat I can’t hear. He folds his hands on his lap, his thumbs flicking each other back and forth.

There’s a slight, so freaking slight , softness about Chase that I feel the fight dissipating from my body.

“Let’s not argue,” I say, sitting back too. “You’re right. You didn’t handle yourself very well. And, honestly, in retrospect, I didn’t handle myself the best either.”

He stills, and the corners of his lips turn slightly to the ceiling. “Was that an apology?”

“Was yours?”

He shrugs.

I shrug too.

Then, at the same time, we both chuckle.

The relief I feel from this small, simple action is massive. My shoulders relax, and the muscle across the back of my neck eases. The heaviness of a few minutes ago lifts—even if only a bit.

Chase bends forward. His body angles toward mine, giving me an unobstructed view of his face. I wonder if it’s intentional—if he wants to permit me to see him openly.

To see the clarity. The caution. The … hope ?

“If I made you feel any way, I didn’t mean to,” he says.

I lift a brow and smirk.

The dimple in his chin deepens as he fights a smile.

“Well, if I made you feel any sort of way … I meant to ,” I say, grinning.

The air between us shifts. It almost feels natural.

Chase chuckles. “You’re a piece of work. Do you know that?”

“It’s been said.” I take a napkin out of the dispenser and fiddle with it. “So what brought you all the way over to The Wet Whistle?”

He rolls his head around his neck. His eyes never leave mine.

“The grilled cheese is good if you want some lunch,” I say to keep the conversation going. I don’t want to lose whatever rapport we’ve established.

“I’m not here for a sandwich.”

“Oh. Why are you here?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I need you to reconsider.”

“Reconsider what?”

“I need you to reconsider working for me.”

What?

My eyes widen, and I drop the napkin. I wait for him to recant. Or laugh. Or … something. But the longer we sit at the table surrounded by patrons enjoying their cheeseburgers and persimmon pudding, the clearer it becomes that his words were a complete sentence.

Chase sighs. “I want you to come and work for me.”

“What happened to all that you can’t trust me bullshit?”

“It was bullshit.”

I wait for him to expound, but unsurprisingly, he doesn’t.

“Why did you do all of that, then? Why did you make such a big deal if you’re going to circle back this fast? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I was concerned.”

“And you’re not now?”

His jaw sets into a hard line. “Can’t you just say yes?”

“Come on, Chase. Do you think I’ll say yes and skip off to your house with stars in my eyes?”

He rolls his eyes.

“I think—for your daughter’s well-being more than anything else—that if we were to come to an agreement, we need to clear the air,” I say.

“I’ll be in your house for a few weeks. We can’t devolve into bickering every time we turn around.

I, for one, don’t have the energy for it. Two, it’s not good for Kennedy.”

He smiles. The bastard finally gives me a genuine smile. It was so worth the wait .

The movement brightens his face, making him look five years younger. There’s a playfulness that I didn’t expect, a warmth that seeps into my soul by proxy. From his smile alone, I can imagine him sitting with a beer and telling stories from days gone by.

It feels so good to be on the receiving end of his smile that I have to look away.

“I just want to make sure that we can get along,” I say, studying the plaque on the wall commemorating the local coal mine like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “I don’t want to feel weird.”

“What do you want from me then?”

I look at him again. I’ll answer you . “I want two things.”

“Spit them out.”

Ignore that . “First, since you’ve apologized for being a dick already, I want your assurance that you won’t be a jerk again. I’m not going to do this if you’re going to have a bad attitude. I don’t need it.”

He starts to speak, then reconsiders. “I won’t be a jerk.”

That was easier than I anticipated.

“What’s the second thing?” he asks, his brows pulled together.

“I want to know why you were so adamant that I wasn’t the right person for the job.”

His smile fades as quickly as it appears. “What does it matter?”

“It matters to me. I won’t look at you daily and wonder what you’re thinking. Whatever your reasoning was, it must have been important for you to jeopardize your mom’s vacation over it.”

His leg stops bouncing.

“Tell me, and I’ll reconsider,” I say, drawing a line in the sand.

Chase sits up again in one swift motion. His hands rest on the table; they nearly touch mine.

Everything about the man just got serious. Stone-cold sober. The severity stills me, making me wonder if I want to do this.

But I do. The flame in my stomach begs me to hear what he has to say.

My heart thunders, pushing blood through my veins so fast that I’m dizzy. A million thoughts shuffle through my brain at max speed—postulating what might come out of his mouth.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks, his voice rough.

“Yes. And don’t lie to me. We must be able to tell each other the truth, or else I’m not even entertaining going through this.”

I think .

That sounds like a professional answer. It feels like poking a bear all the same.

Fire dances in his irises, the gold flecks nearly taking over the iciness—but not entirely. Just enough to keep me frozen in place while also melting into a puddle.

My mouth goes dry as my attention is drawn to his lips. He licks them slowly. Deliberately.

What are you doing, Chase?

“Okay,” he says. “You want the truth? I’ll give it to you.”

“Okay …”

“I didn’t want you to work for me because you would make my life much harder than you’d help it.”

My brows pull together. “How?”

A smile flirts against his lips. “Because I’m not sure how I could go thirty days with you in my house and not fuck you.”