Page 29 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

M egan

“It’s kind of weird not having Gram and Pap around,” Kennedy says, sipping her butterscotch milkshake.

She sits across from me, next to Chase, inside Melvin’s, a little sandwich shop in Brickfield. They brought me to the town next to Peachwood Falls to get a pair of muck boots. Apparently, it’s a sin not to have good rubber boots in the country.

Who knew ?

“Gram called to see if I went to church this morning,” Kennedy says.

“What did you tell her?” Chase asks.

“I told her no.” Kennedy laughs. “I’m not lying to save you—especially about church.”

Chase rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. You’re going to throw me under the bus like that?”

“Better than me getting thrown in hell.” She slurps her milkshake again. “Sorry, Dad.”

Chase stretches his legs under the table. His eyes hold mine as his foot settles against me. I smile at the contact, and he grins back.

We’ve managed to keep our hands off each other and play it cool. Kennedy came home from Neve’s yesterday shortly after we got out of bed— Chase’s bed . Thankfully, she called before she arrived, and we jumped in the shower and got ourselves sorted before she came through the door.

We spent the beautiful, if not chilly, Saturday watching movies and doing chores around the house. I made cheeseburgers for lunch, and Kennedy wanted a chicken and rice casserole that Maggie makes. She called her gram and got the recipe, and we gave it our best shot.

It didn’t turn out too bad.

After dinner, we took a walk down by the lake, where I managed to slide down the bank and into the water—hence, the need for boots. Because, apparently, I can’t go too long without embarrassing myself around Chase Freaking Marshall.

Chase strokes my leg with his foot. “Do you go to church, Megan?”

“No,” I say, screwing up my face. “I have off and on in the past. I mean, I believe in God—a greater being that created the world. I don’t think I need to sit in a pew one day a week and listen to someone tell me what’s wrong with my relationship with Him.

” I pause. “Or Her. Why does everyone assume that God is a him ?”

“Right?” Kennedy huffs. “That’s so sexist.”

“What about you?” I ask Chase. “Do you go to church?”

“Not enough to make Gram happy,” Kennedy says, bumping shoulders with her father. “But she picks me up every Sunday. She sits in front of the house and honks her car horn at precisely eight thirty. And if I don’t come out, she comes in and gets me.”

Chase smirks. “You’re getting no sympathy from me. I survived my years with your grandma. It’s your turn.”

“She’s so old-fashioned. I love her more than anything, but she doesn’t get me sometimes.”

“If that means Gram doesn’t understand your need to go to a high school dance at fourteen, then maybe you don’t get her. Because she and I are on the same page.”

Kennedy sticks her tongue out at her dad. He gives her a look that hits its target because she quickly turns back to her drink.

I smile at their interaction. It’s so sweet and honest, yet I can see Chase’s concern. Kennedy is at an age where she behaves just enough to remind you that she’s still a child. Then she wallops you with an attitude, request, or insight that scares the shit out of you.

Kids know way more than I did at that age .

“What about you, Megan?” Kennedy asks.

Her tone for the question tips me off—she will try to rope me into supporting her point.

“What about me?” I ask.

Chase’s gaze is trained on me, probably to warn me about what’s to come.

“Were you allowed to have fun at my age?” she asks.

Chase starts to respond, most likely to bail me out, but I got this. I answer before he can get a word in.

“Yeah. I was allowed to have fun,” I say. “I wasn’t going to high school dances until I was in high school, though. Come to think of it, I don’t even know if you’re allowed to attend high school events until you’re a student there.”

“Well, at Peachwood High, no one cares about that,” she says like she knows everything. “My friends go all the time.”

“Do you want to know what my friends did at fourteen?” I ask. Not that I had many, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“What?”

“They snuck out to meet boys. They told their parents they were at one place, and they’d stay the night somewhere else. They drank alcohol at parties they weren’t supposed to attend and pierced their belly buttons using rubbing alcohol and needles.”

Chase coughs. “Don’t give her any ideas.”

Kennedy grins, and it’s full of mischief.

“Want to know what happened to them?” I ask.

“Sure,” Kennedy says.

I start to tell her a bunch of baloney to scare her straight. But as I form the stories to share, I realize Maggie probably already did that. I bet Chase has done the same, and it’s not working.

Glancing at Chase, I will him silently to be patient. Then I turn to Kennedy.

“They went on to graduate, get a job, and have families,” I say. “Well, most of them, anyway.”

Kennedy grins smugly. “Shocking.”

“Really, Megan?” Chase asks.

“Kennedy,” I say, sitting back in my chair. “When your dad, or your grandma, gives you rules, it’s not because every single thing you do is going to ruin your life.”

She grins at her dad out of the corner of her eye.

“You might sneak out and not get caught,” I say. “Or you might get in the car with someone you shouldn’t and make it back just fine. But all it takes is for something to go wrong one time. One single time . Your whole life might be over before it’s even begun.”

“But what’s the odds that it happens to me? Like you said, nothing happened to your friends.”

I lift a brow. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you said they went on with their lives like normal.”

“Sure, they did. But one graduated with her baby boy in the crowd. She missed prom because she just gave birth.”

Kennedy’s smile wobbles.

“We took our senior trip,” I say. “And a boy in my class was on probation and missed it. He couldn’t leave the county.

There was a car accident on Christmas Eve during my junior year.

A bunch of kids from my chemistry class were out having fun in the middle of the night and wrecked the car.

Killed one of them. Another still walks with a limp, and a third, the last I heard, was traumatized over being the car's driver that night and watching his friend die. He’s had to live with that every day. ”

Her face pales as she listens. Her eyes widen.

“My senior year,” I say, “there was a big party before the last day of school. Each class had done this for decades before us. My mom didn’t let me go.”

“At all?”

I shake my head. “I was so mad at her. Everyone was going, and this was the party of the year. I’d waited for this thing since August. I remember pacing my room and crying, fighting with my mother about how mean and strict she was and why she had to be such a tyrant.

It was really easy to hoist all of my anger on her. How could she do this to me, right?”

Kennedy stills.

“A whole bunch of parents had to pick their kids up at the police department that night … but not mine,” I say.

She looks at her dad. Chase crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t say a word.

“You see, Kennedy, I get it,” I say. “I understand how it feels to be the only one not getting to do stuff. I was that girl. I sat at home while everyone was out having fun, and I was the one that had to listen to all the stories on Monday morning about the events of the weekend. It didn’t feel good.

I wanted to be a part of that so badly. And trust me when I tell you that I understand how left out it can feel when your classmates are doing things and you can’t.

” Because your mom wouldn’t let you … or more often because you weren’t invited.

“Yeah …”

“But I get it now. She was protecting me. Was she overbearing? Sometimes. Did she make all the right choices? Probably not. But she was trying to keep me from the situations where that one thing—that one life-altering event that I couldn’t come back from—might happen.

She had to weigh the pros and cons of each situation and make a game-time decision, knowing that if she made the wrong one, it would be her fault.

Or she’d feel like it was, anyway.” I smile.

“And now? I have a great life. I’ve traveled the world and had important jobs.

I get to have experiences now and, I promise you—the experiences as an adult are head and shoulders better than anything you could have as a teenager. I swear it.”

I don’t have to look at Chase to know he’s grinning.

His foot taps the top of mine before he slides it back and sits up again.

“Well, now that both of you are against me …” She sighs and looks at the door. “Hey! There’s Uncle Luke.”

Our attention turns to a younger version of Chase and Gavin walking to the table.

Luke is a touch shorter and thinner than Chase but carries the same playfulness I associate with Gavin. His hair is styled to the side. His legs are clad in denim, and a flannel shirt sets atop a white T-shirt. Is that a gold chain around his neck ?

“Fucking great,” Chase mutters just loud enough for me to hear.

“What do you know?” Luke says, sitting beside me like we’re long-lost buddies. “It’s like I saw your truck out there and came in to see what’s happening.”

“What are you doing in Brickfield?” Kennedy asks, clearly smitten with her uncle.

“Well,” he says, narrowing his eyes and earning a giggle from his niece. “You are entirely too young and innocent for me to divulge such things.”

Kennedy makes a show of rolling her eyes.

Luke turns to me and smirks. His chin hosts the same dimple as Chase’s. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes that I’m familiar with—Gavin has the same one.

“You must be the woman everyone is talking about,” he grins.

“ Luke …” Chase warns.

“I am the woman everyone is talking about,” I say, feeling him out. “My name is Megan, and it’s nice to meet you.”

Luke seems impressed. “

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I tell him.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

“It was all good, right?” he asks. “My brothers have a habit of making me look bad because they’re so intimidated by my good looks.”

Chase snorts.

“It was mostly good,” I say. “Gavin talked a little crap, but it wasn’t too bad.”

Luke’s jaw drops. “That bastard.”

Everyone at the table chuckles, and I’m relaxed once again.

“Dad,” Kennedy says. “Can I get a cookie?”

“You just had a milkshake. Do you need more sugar?”

Luke huffs and pulls out his wallet. He takes out a five-dollar bill and hands it over to his niece. “Yes, she needs more sugar. What kind of question is that?”

“Don’t tell Uncle Gav, but you’re my favorite,” Kennedy says.

Luke winks at her. “If he starts pulling on me, let me know. I have to stay ahead.”

Kennedy gives him a thumbs-up and leaves for the ordering counter. As soon as she’s gone, Luke leans in.

“I have news,” he says. “Alyssa isn’t pregnant.”

“You better go buy a fucking box of condoms,” Chase says, shaking his head. “Tell me you learned something from this.”

“I learned something from this.” Then he tilts his head toward me and whispers, “I did not learn anything from this.”

Despite Chase’s unamused stare, I laugh.

“What are you guys doing here, anyway?” Luke asks.

“We came to get me boots because apparently boots are required clothing for Peachwood Falls,” I say.

Luke snorts. “From what I hear, I’d have thought my brother would require no clothing from you.”

“Mind your business,” Chase tells him.

“You’re a bit of a shit starter, aren’t you?” I ask Luke.

“Oh, just a bit. I like to keep everyone on their toes.” He yawns. “I just left Alyssa’s.”

“The woman you thought was pregnant?” I ask.

He nods. “Yup. That’s her. And it took us all night and all morning to decide to take a break.

At first, she was pissed at me over a joke.

Then I was pissed at her for being pissed at me.

Then she thought she was pregnant, so we were both panicking.

But now that’s behind us …” He shrugs. “We’ve maxed out my emotional reserve. ”

“That’s understandable,” I say.

He waves at Kennedy. “I’m going to get going. I just wanted to come in and give Chase some crap.”

“Gee, thanks,” Chase says.

Luke gets up. “I’ll call you later, Chase. Nice to meet you, Megs. You’re everything Gavin said you were.”

I laugh, mainly at Chase’s reaction. “Well, I hope that’s good.”

“It’s great.” He walks backward toward the door. “Bye.”

“Goodbye, Luke,” Chase says. Then he sighs. “Well, that’s Luke. See? You weren’t missing much.”

I lift my foot until it’s in his lap. His eyes go wide as I rub his crotch.

“I think he’s funny,” I say. “A nice mix of you and Gavin. What about your other brother? Mallet? Is that his name?”

Chase holds my foot against him. His fingers slip beneath my jeans, and he grips my ankle. I don’t know what’s hot about that, but my temperature spikes.

“Mallet’s an asshole most of the time,” he says. “He’s a good guy. I probably like him better than Gavin and Luke. But he’s … always pissed off.”

“Who? Uncle M?” Kennedy sits down with her cookie.

Chase grins, letting go of my leg. “That cookie is as big as your head.”

“I know. And I still have two dollars.”

I giggle and drop my foot back to the floor.

Chase looks at me. “You girls ready?”

“Yup,” Kennedy says, spraying cookie crumbs across the table.

I nod, even though I’m not.

Sure, our lunch is over, and there’s no reason to take up a table. But sitting here with the two of them, chatting about random stuff and making each other laugh—it’s one of the breeziest, most relaxing Sundays I’ve had in a long damn time.

At least I get to go home with them.

“Let’s go,” I say.

We get to our feet, and Kennedy leads us to the door. Chase walks behind me, pressing his hand into the small of my back.

“Thank you,” he whispers in my ear.

Kennedy skips off to the truck.

I stop as Chase walks around me to hold the door. “For what?”

He doesn’t give me enough room to step outside without running against him. I don’t mind.

“Thanks for trying to talk some sense into her,” he says. “I appreciate it.”

“You know what I appreciate?”

“What’s that?”

The door swings shut behind us, and we head to the truck too. I dip my chin so no one can read my lips.

“I appreciate how freaking sore I am today,” I say softly. “You stretched me out.”

He growls and takes a step to the side, away from me. “Behave.”

I stop in front of his truck. “Or what?”

He watches me with hooded eyes.

“Or you’ll spank me?” I pout. “Oh, what a shame.”

“Get in the fucking truck before I bend you over that bench over there.”

I laugh, wishing I could kiss him but knowing I can’t. Then I climb in the truck, and off we go.