Lost Hart, page 2
“She’s certainly getting impatient with her lack of mobility,” Stacey said, taking a seat on the couch. “I’ve known since day one this was going to be my challenging child.”
Chase’s mother clapped her hands together. “Before I forget, I want to have a dinner next Saturday night now that Chase is home. Rex will be back next Friday, so I’ll invite everyone. Can you guys come, too?”
Chase squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Stacey turned his mother down. The last thing he needed was his brother’s relationship flaunted in front of him for hours over the dinner table. His brother’s relationship with the woman Chase had fallen in love with.
“I think we can make it,” Stacey said. “Can I bring anything?”
“Your spinach and artichoke dip,” Heath said, wandering in from the kitchen. “You know I could drink that stuff straight.” He had what appeared to be a giant sandwich in one hand and a tall glass of milk in the other.
Everyone, including Thea, seemed to be giving him the same look.
“What?” he finally asked. “I’m hungry. It’s not like I’m eating all the cookies. I do listen.” He sat down in one of the reclining chairs, set his milk on the side table and dove into his sandwich.
“Over thirty years old and you’re still raiding your mama’s fridge,” Chase said with a headshake, doing his damnedest to keep his gaze from drifting back over to Stacey on the couch.
“You can raid my fridge until you’re ninety,” their mother cut in. “That’s what a mother’s house and fridge are for.” She glared at Heath. “Though would it kill you to use a napkin? Or maybe offer to make the rest of us lunch?”
Chewing, Heath lifted his sandwich toward all of them. “Anybody want a bite?”
Chapter 2
She knew when she finally saw him again, she’d feel a series of different things, one of them being relief, another being anger, and the final, the most predominant—love. God, how she loved this man. Five months apart had not diminished her feelings for Chase one bit, and yet the way he was looking at her, with hurt and confusion in his eyes, said he didn’t feel the same way.
Had he moved on while he was away?
She’d heard through the grapevine that Chase was a bodyguard for a young woman in college. He’d probably become more than her bodyguard.
Just like he had for Stacey … for one night.
She thought it would be more than just that one night. Thought that night was the start of something real, something possibly permanent.
But he’d clearly had other ideas.
He gave her a bit of comfort, a few orgasms, and then he was gone. On to his next damsel in distress, one with less baggage, no doubt, and probably a body not destroyed by having children.
He was trying hard not to look at her, she could tell, but as he played with Connor—who was currently trying to climb up Chase’s legs while Chase held his hands—he would sneak glances at her.
And each glance gutted her more.
But she’d done nothing wrong.
They’d done nothing wrong.
After a scary day involving Connor falling on the playground and needing to be rushed to the hospital for stitches, she’d turned to Chase that night.
Not that their days and weeks hadn’t been riddled with stolen glances and a sense of companionship she hadn’t even felt with her late husband. Which was why she’d hoped, nay, thought that Chase felt something more, too. That the heated looks of longing and the connection she felt growing weren’t entirely one-sided or manifested by her exhausted, hormonal, lonely mom-brain.
Up until their night together, they’d only kissed—once. It happened after they’d been approached by a Petralia stooge in a parking lot. Nothing happened—because Chase was there and in full-on protector mode—but it’d rattled Stacey nonetheless.
He’d been patient and kind with her frazzled nerves. Taking her in his arms, shushing her, he even kissed the top of her head. Something that normally wouldn’t have sent butterflies into a frenzy in her belly but did anyway. Because she was falling for him, lonely, and hoped she was becoming more than just a job.
And then, later that night, with the kids asleep, as they washed and dried dishes in the kitchen like your average domestic couple in the suburbs, their hands touched, he pulled her in, and he kissed her.
And it wasn’t just a sweet peck.
Oh no.
Chase Hart knew how to kiss, and he knew how to kiss well.
There was tongue. There was passion. There was an iron bar poking her in the hip in under seven seconds.
And she certainly hadn’t pushed him away.
No.
She had mom-brain, but she wasn’t insane.
A widow, a new mother and angry at the world for the shit her family was having to go through, she lunged at the blissful sensation of being wanted. Of being desired and considered sexy. She wanted to cling to the feeling of hope he instilled inside of her heart, that this, too, shall pass, that she was more than just a widow or a mom. She was a woman. A woman worth love and the desire of a good man.
Chase filled her heart with hope, the idea that the future might not be as bleak as it seemed and that good things and good men were not out of her grasp like she thought they were.
So feeling like they were finally on the same page, she grappled at him, pulled him down to her, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her aching, milk-filled breasts against his chest.
But he broke the kiss after a moment. A moment much too short, in her opinion. She’d reached for the hem of his shirt, wanting to see and feel more of him, and instead, he pushed her away, both of them left panting and flushed.
She hadn’t been able to control where her eyes went, and of course, they drifted down to those gray sweatpants and the stiff snake hidden inside.
He claimed it was because he was on the job that they couldn’t go further, that it wouldn’t be right. But perhaps he didn’t want to go further because in truth he wasn’t attracted to her.
And why would he be?
She was damaged goods.
Her husband was dead—not that she missed him. And she had two children, one of whom wasn’t even a year old and still used her body like a vending machine.
She ran and did workouts in her living room when she had time, but that fupa, or whatever you wanted to call the pouch of fat below her belly button after giving birth, hung on for dear life, no matter how many crunches she did.
A man like Chase, virile and chiseled like a Greek statue, didn’t want somebody like her. Not when he could have any woman he wanted.
But then why, when they finally had that magical night together where they did a hell of a lot more than just kiss, did he make her feel like he was attracted to her? He’d been receptive to her advances.
Hell, he’d been more than receptive. Chase had made love to her like no man ever had. He’d been gentle but demanding, generous but also greedy. He was greedy for her. For her body. He’d taken her three times in the span of a few hours, bringing her to climax over and over again. She didn’t think he’d left an inch of her untouched or unsatisfied by the time she fell asleep.
But when she woke up the next morning, with glorious aches in her muscles and body parts long neglected, he was gone. And not just gone from her bed or her room.
He was gone gone.
“Oh my God!” Joy cried, bringing Stacey back to reality. “Look at Thea!”
Stacey pulled her gaze away from Chase and her wayward thoughts to find Thea up on all fours and slowly crawling toward Chase. “Oh my God!”
“Look at that. She’s a mover now. No turning back,” Heath said, licking mustard off his thumb.
Diesel got up from where he’d been staring at Heath’s sandwich, to investigate the excitement. He sniffed a few times at Thea’s ear, making the baby smile and close her eyes. The closed eyes had her wobbling, even in the crawl position, but she caught her balance by leaning against Diesel’s leg.
Only, when the dog sneezed it shook his body, and Thea’s too. The baby giggled, let go and fell on to her belly.
But she wasn’t discouraged and in less than ten seconds, she was back up
Diesel wandered back over to stare at Heath and his meal.
“Good job, little one,” Joy cooed, getting down to Thea’s level. “Look at you go. You see your big brother playing and you want to play, too. Monkey see, monkey do. I remember that well with my boys.” She glanced at Chase. “Brock would do something and you’d have to do it, too, even if you got bruised and bloody in the process.”
Thea placed her chubby little hand on Chase’s socked foot, scooted forward more and started to pull herself up to standing.
“Careful of your sister, Connor,” Joy said. “She’s right below you.”
Connor, who was now hanging upside down off Chase, his legs over the man’s big shoulders, glanced down at his sister. “Hi, baby. You want up, too?”
Gently, because for his size, Chase could be extremely gentle, he put Connor down on the floor just as Thea, with her wobbly legs, used his pant leg to pull herself up to standing.
“She’s never done this before,” Stacey said. “And she normally plays strange with people.”
“Probably remembers Chase from when she was a fresh little squish,” Joy said, welcoming Connor into her lap.
With a grunt and more wobbling, Thea gingerly removed one hand from his pant leg and lifted it into the air.
“She wants up,” Connor said. “I know what my sister wants because I just turned four. I’m a big kid now.”
“You certainly are, sweetheart,” Joy said, brushing Connor’s hair off his forehead and kissing his crown.
Stacey was grateful for the woman holding Connor. Joy Hart had embraced Stacey like a daughter, welcoming her and the kids into her home and life like she was family. She offered to watch the kids constantly, baked for them, baked with them and always had a treat or surprise for Connor. She had grandchildren of her own, Brock’s kids, Zoe and Zane, but she said she had room in her heart for more than just two grandkids and wanted Connor and Thea to think of her as Nana Joy.
Chase bent down and scooped up Thea, plopping her on his hip and kissing her on the cheek. “Hey, baby girl. You’ve changed since I last saw you. You’ll be driving a car before we know it.”
“Me first, though,” Connor said. “Because I’m older. And I don’t want a car. I want a truck like you, Chase.”
“Cookies should be cooled off and ready to put into a container to take home,” Joy said, gently encouraging Connor to stand up with a soft pat to his butt. “Help me?” She reached for Connor’s hand, and he took it with a smile.
“Can I take out a cookie to give to Uncle Heath? One that won’t burn his tongue,” Connor asked.
“Uncle Heath has had enough cookies,” Joy said from the kitchen.
“Let Uncle Heath be the judge of that,” Heath said, his voice booming around the living room.
Chase’s gaze fell to Stacey, and his nostrils flared. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer by the second, and it wasn’t because the fireplace was on next to her.
Joy’s house was always warm and cozy. And on this particularly chilly day, the warmth from the hearth was welcome. Winter seemed to be hanging on with both hands, refusing to let go, even though that groundhog most certainly hadn’t seen his shadow.
But it was more than just the toasty house that had her temperature spiking; it was the way the man with the black wool cap and forest-green eyes was looking at her. Like he’d seen her naked, tasted her body and wanted to do it again and again and again—but wouldn’t. But couldn’t.
Why couldn’t he? He’d returned to her house once more after leaving the morning after they slept together. Rex was over helping her with something. Chase took one look at them, turned around and left again. Then she heard he took a job in Georgia, and that was the last she saw of him.
Heath’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “Well, this is awkward,” he said, not quite under his breath.
Stacey couldn’t agree more. But it wasn’t her who was making it awkward. It was Chase.
She’d done nothing wrong. At least, that’s what her friend Emma kept telling her. Stacey had done nothing wrong. It was Chase who needed to sort his shit out. If a one-night stand was all he wanted, then he should have been clear about that and not worshipped her body like it was a damn temple, leading her to believe he planned to return with more offerings and a promise to convert.
Chase grunted and looked away, taking Thea over to the mirror slightly down the hallway and making faces at her in it.
A moment later, Connor came bouncing out of the kitchen with a big tin of cookies. He sidled up next to Heath and did a crappy job of trying to sneak the container open so Heath could grab one. For the sake of the four-year-old with the enormous heart, they all pretended not to look, and Heath went in like a covert operative and grabbed one.
Connor put his finger over his lips and went shh.
Heath’s smile was sweet, and he nodded, hiding the cookie behind his hand as he took a bite, much to the elation of Stacey’s little boy.
She wasn’t just grateful for Joy. She was grateful for the whole Hart family.
Clearing his throat, Chase drew her attention away from Heath and Connor. He was handing Thea over to Joy, but Thea didn’t seem to be keen on the pass-off. She reached for Chase again.
Weird.
Her daughter normally played strange with people she didn’t know, and for all intents and purposes, she didn’t know Chase. Neither do you, clearly. She pushed down the growl.
Not right now.
He’d been gone for five months.
The last time Thea saw him, she’d been just shy of three months old.
Surely, Thea didn’t still remember Chase, did she?
“You leaving?” Joy asked her son, bobbing her body up and down to keep Thea from fussing.
Chase nodded and headed toward the door. “Gotta get home and unpack. Check in with Brock.”
Joy’s disappointment filled the room.
Recognizing the growing signs of frustration and hunger in her nine-month-old, Stacey stood up and took Thea from Joy so Joy could follow Chase to the door.
He barely gave her a glance but made sure to give a smile and a wave to Connor and Heath before retreating behind the wall that divided the living room and foyer.
She heard whispering but couldn’t make out anything specific, and within moments, the door opened, a gust of cool air whooshed around the corner into the living room, and she saw him stalking out to his truck through the big bay window.
“Gonna head out, too,” Heath said, extracting himself from his chair, chewing what appeared to be another cookie. He ruffled Connor’s hair just as Joy came back around the corner wringing her fingers, looking frustrated. Heath bent down and planted a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Thanks for lunch, Mama.”
She swatted him playfully on the shoulder. “Did you at least do your dishes?”
“Always.” He grinned, ruffling Connor’s hair as he passed by. “I’ll see you Saturday for dinner.” He focused on Stacey for a moment. “Don’t forget that artichoke dip.”
She saluted him and nodded. Though with the frosty welcome and goodbye from Chase, her heart really wasn’t in the mood or into the idea of a big, noisy Hart family dinner.
She wasn’t a Hart, and although they’d all embraced her with open arms, now that Chase was home, she felt a lot less welcome, a lot less like she belonged.
Joy saw her youngest but also largest son to the door as well, returning less than a minute later. “That boy,” she said with a headshake. “Now he’s off to the gym.”
Stacey snorted. “Has to keep that svelte figure somehow.” Thea was now aggressively tugging at the front of Stacey’s sweater, so settling into the cushions on the couch, she brought out her breast, and the baby latched on immediately. Thea, no longer a newborn by any stretch of the imagination, began to kick her feet wildly until Stacey had to hold on to them with one hand and give her daughter a stern look. Thea smiled around the nipple like it was all a game.
Joy brought out a bin of blocks from the bookcase in the corner, and Connor immediately began to build “the biggest castle in the world,” as he put it.
Diesel was in front of the fire on his dog bed snoring. For a Pitbull not even a year old, he was actually very chill. His puppy-mode was insane, but it didn’t last as long as some dogs. And he was so good with all the kids.
“Ask it,” Joy said, taking a seat in the chair Heath had vacated.
Stacey’s brow scrunched. “Ask what?”
“Whatever’s got you making that face.”
She was making a face?
She must have been. She was certainly thinking a lot of things and had even more questions.
“What is up with Chase?” she finally asked on a deep exhale. “I can’t figure him out.”
Joy’s expression turned sad. “Hard for anybody else to when the man can’t figure himself out.”
“What happened to him? Why is he so …”
“Lost?”
Yeah, that was probably as accurate a word as any. As much as he was kind and fierce, strong and protective, he also did seem like a bit of a lost soul. Searching for meaning, never certain in his decisions or his worth. She wasn’t sure what actions of his made her think that, but the moment Joy said it, said the word lost, it all clicked. Chase was lost.
When they’d made love all those months ago, she thought for the first time since they met that she finally saw certainty in his eyes. Finally saw past the gruff, tough, bald, behemoth alpha exterior and deeper into who Chase Hart really was. Which was a kind, patient, generous man not only she but also her children were falling in love with.
