Page 32 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

M egan

“I win. Again ,” Kennedy says, yawning. “That’s seriously pathetic.”

“How is that pathetic?” Chase asks.

“Because you both are way older and have played rummy a lot more than I have. Yet I still kick your butts.”

I hold out a hand. “Hold up. I didn’t grow up playing rummy, so that’s not true.”

“Were you raised in a barn?” Chase shakes his head. “ Didn’t grow up playing rummy . What did you do with your time?”

Come to think of it, I’m not sure .

I scramble around in my mental trunk full of memories and try to remember how I killed time in my childhood. “I rode bikes. I made sandcastles. Swam. Built forts, climbed trees … played with dolls. But I didn’t play card games.”

Kennedy yawns again, resting her chin in her hand. “Where did you learn how to play, then?”

“My best friend, Calista, was my next-door neighbor in LA. When I first got there, I had an apartment the size of your bathroom, Kennedy.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It was tiny. And I paid out the nose for it, which is wild now that I think about it. Anyway, Calista lived next door, and because of the rent, we couldn’t afford to go out. So she showed me how to play rummy.”

Chase gets up from the table and grabs Kennedy’s snack plate.

“Do you know how to play euchre?” Kennedy asks.

“What?”

“Euchre. Do you know how to play that?”

“I have no idea what euchre is,” I say.

Kennedy looks at her dad and sighs. “We’re gonna have to teach her. She can’t possibly go to Sunday dinners at Gram’s and not know how to play euchre. Luke will never let her live it down.”

Chase puts the plate in the sink. His shoulders are tight as he turns on the faucet. “Yeah, we’ll have to teach her.”

His tone is hollow. Uncertain. And after he shuts the water off and turns back around, he’s watching me warily. I understand why.

I shift in my seat. “Well, thank you for thinking of me. But when Maggie gets home, I’m going home. So no euchre for me.”

My breath stalls in my chest as I wait for one of them to say something.

It’s the truth. I won’t be here for Sunday dinners. They know that.

So why are the three of us acting so weird?

“I got some ice cream today.” My chair screeches across the hardwood. “Anyone want a bowl?”

“Nah, I think I’ll go to bed early,” Kennedy says. “My head hurts a little. Is that okay, Dad?”

“Sure. Go on, and I’ll come up and say good night in a little bit.”

Kennedy smiles at him. Her gaze slides past mine. The only acknowledgment she makes that I’m in the room is a slight nod before she disappears down the hallway.

Chase dries his hands while I sit, holding my breath. Something just happened, and I’m not sure what it was. But the room reads differently now. It’s stale, stuck as if it’s holding its breath too.

He walks by me toward the mudroom. “Come on.”

Huh? I’m confused, but I do as he asks. “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

We’re quiet as we put on our jackets. I smile at the memory of picking out the calf-high rubber muck boots as I slide them on. Chase opens the door for me, and I enter the chilly evening air.

Mud slops around our steps as we round the side of the house. The breeze bites at my face, and I pull the top of my jacket over my mouth.

“I have to be out of here early. Earlier than usual tomorrow,” he says.

“Well, don’t expect me up then.” I look up at him and grin. “Five o’clock is my limit, and I barely make that.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Yeah. I thought you weren’t a morning person.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ve been up every morning since you got here.”

“Well, drinking coffee and watching you putter around shirtless is my reward.”

Chase’s fingers flick my knuckle. I open my hand, and he slides his palm against mine, his fingers lacing through my cold digits.

I tingle at the sweet, innocent contact that feels as intimate as anything we’ve done.

“I thought I’d be worried,” he says. “I’ve never left Kennedy overnight with anyone besides my parents since I got her.”

“Well, I’ll take good care of her.”

He squeezes my hand. “I know you will.”

Really? I peer up at him through the misty night and take in his sharp jaw and dimpled chin. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s thinking, and it’s adorable.

“I’m at a strange place in my life,” he says, his breath billowing.

“How so?”

“Well, on the one hand, I’m trying to hold on to my daughter. Maybe too much. I don’t fucking know. She’s a teenager now, and I’ll have to give her more rope, but that’s terrifying. It’s like her future relies on the decisions I make. I’ve already failed her once.”

I rub his knuckle with my thumb. “You haven’t failed her, Chase.”

“If I hadn’t been so careless or self-centered, maybe her life would’ve been different. Maybe she wouldn’t have been in the car with her mom in a shitty neighborhood and gotten carjacked. I could’ve helped them, you know.”

My chest tightens. “But you didn’t know.

That’s not on you. And I’m not blaming Monica either because I have no idea why she didn’t tell you.

I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and say she had her reasons.

But, Chase, you did the right thing as soon as you knew Kennedy existed. You can’t blame yourself for the rest.”

He shrugs like he’s not so sure I’m right. “The other side of the coin is …” He exhales. “I’m ready to have a life again.”

I try to release his hand, but he clamps down on it. He refuses to let go.

“I talked to Kate today,” he says. “And she told me I’m not irresponsible if I want more for me.”

My palm sweats despite the cold. The heat of my breath puffs into the air like a train. But the more I try to regulate it so Chase doesn’t notice, the more noticeable I think it becomes.

What is he saying? He wants more? More … what? More who?

More me?

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think … this is your choice.”

“That’s a non-answer.”

I laugh. “It was a reply, so it counts as an answer.”

Chase leads me to a wooden swing beside the lake. We sit on the damp surface, and the cold bites into my backside. He notices, lifts me, and sets me on his lap with his hands around my stomach.

We swing gently for a long time, enjoying the cool breeze. I rest my head against his shoulder and let the rhythm lull me into a false sense of security.

“Do you find it hard to trust people?” I ask.

He hums. “No, not really. That’s pretty surprising, now that I think about it. But I’m not generally a distrusting person unless Luke is involved.”

I grin.

“Why? Are you?”

“Surprisingly, I am. Or maybe not surprisingly. I don’t know.”

“Why do you ask?”

I turn my head so I can see his face. “Because of this.”

It takes him a few moments to understand what I’m saying.

He pulls me tighter against him and kisses the top of my head. The gesture feels like a million butterflies in my stomach—as if someone took the world's stress off my shoulders and handled it for me. It’s nice .

“Do you think it’s weird that we’re sitting here like this?” I ask, playing with his fingers. “I mean, not that long ago, I didn’t know you existed.”

“It is funny, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

He moves beneath me, adjusting his position. “But maybe it’s not weird, Megan. Maybe this is …” He chuckles. “Forget it.”

“Forget what?”

“Nothing.”

I pry his hands off me and stand. “Remember our agreement?”

He grins, amused. “We shredded that thing a long time ago.”

I climb onto the swing, straddling him. He wastes no time wrapping his arms around my bottom and scooting me as close to him as I can go.

His face is animated as he watches me. My lord, he’s so damn handsome .

I cup his cheeks in my hands, the scruff scratching my palms. My thighs tense at the sensation—and the memory of what it feels like between my legs.

“Forget what?” I ask again.

“Maybe this is what two people do who want to fuck.”

I snort, my core clenching. “That’s not what you were going to say.”

He leans his head back arrogantly—like he knows he’s in control. “What do you think I was going to say?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“What did you want me to say?”

What I wanted you to say is ridiculous for two people who barely know each other . My face flushes with embarrassment, and I start to extricate myself from his lap. But he holds on.

“How about this,” he says, his tone low. “I’ll tell you what you wanted me to say.”

“Chase—”

“You wanted me to say that maybe our connection isn’t so weird after all.

” His eyes shine under the moon. “You hoped I would tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you and that you’re wrecking my life.

That I want to come home and see you. That I wait for your texts during the day.

That I’m so fucking unsure what this all means, but I’m also so damn certain that this is different from anything I’ve had before, and I can’t imagine ever finding it again. ”

I lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. His words sink into my psyche, but I pivot away from the seriousness of it all. “Are you saying you have a crush on me, Mr. Marshall?”

He rests his arm along the top of the swing and laughs.

I rest my cheek between his collar and jaw, smiling from ear to ear.

He refastens his hands around my ass and sighs. “So that’s it? I say all that, and you accuse me of having a crush?”

“Not just a crush. A big crush .”

“Yeah, well, here’s the bullshit—I knew this would happen. As soon as you climbed out of that rental car, I knew you were my weakness. That you’d be trouble.”

I hum against his chest.

We swing back and forth. I know I haven’t said anything in return, but I’m afraid it'll be wrong if I say too much. But as I nestle against him and hear his beating heart, I know I have to say something.

I can’t pivot forever. And really—I don’t want to.

“This isn’t like anything I’ve felt before either,” I say, wading into the conversation slowly. “And that scares me a little.”

“Why?”

I sigh, wishing the answer was as simple as the question.