Chasing Home (Cherry Peak #3)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

JOHNNY

I’m late. It’s not much of a surprise, but with Bryce amongst the friends waiting for me at Peakside, I know I’ll hear about my tardiness regardless. My friend’s got an obsession with punctuality that borders on straight up crazy.

“Our impending doom is completely your fault,” I say, glancing across the truck at Darren.

The volunteer firefighter ignores me, his mind somewhere else tonight. Most likely on the messy status of his relationship with his daughter’s mother. It’s tricky territory.

“How are you doing?” I ask, softening my tone.

“I’m fine.”

It’s the most obvious lie I’ve ever heard. Who’s fine after watching their ex-wife drive off with the daughter they share custody of and a new man he’s hardly met? He needs a drink the most out of everyone we’re meeting at the bar.

“Well, I’m here if you want to talk.”

He tips his chin jerkily. “Thank you. Sorry you saw all that.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

“I’m a grown man. I can handle my own shit,” he grunts.

His anger is a front for a deep feeling of hurt, so I don’t take offense to it. Fuck me, I’d be pissed with everyone and everything if I were in his shoes.

“I can drop you off somewhere else if you don’t want to go to Peakside,” I offer.

“If I don’t go, Poppy will know something’s up. It’s fine.”

“I’m sure your sister is well and truly distracted right now. And if not, I can make sure she doesn’t worry tonight. Tomorrow, I make no promises.”

Darren shifts his body to look at me now. His blank expression makes my chest pang, but I keep my concern to myself.

“Leave it. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this position, and it won’t be the fucking last either if I know Sasha.”

“It still ain’t right, Darren. We’re all here for you. Anytime.”

“I know. I appreciate it. Now, don’t mention my sister being distracted again, you fucking dick. I hear enough about her and Garrison from our mother. Don’t need it from you too.”

I bark a laugh, offering a completely half-ass sympathetic smile. “You poor thing.”

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, alright. No more talking about your sister and my best friend. I’m sure they’re sitting at the table lookin’ pretty right now and nothing more,” I say, thickening the drawl in my voice.

His hand flies toward me at lightning speed, and I jerk the wheel to avoid being smacked upside the head. Thank fuck the road is empty and no deer decided to prance into my front bumper or through my windshield.

Darren acts tough, but he likes his sister’s boyfriend enough. Myself, on the other hand, I love the guy. Garrison Beckett isn’t my usual type’a friend, but he’s good people. You just have to push past his walls of steel to get to that ooey-gooey inside.

The rest of the drive to Peakside is spent in a comfortable silence, Darren not up for more talking about his ex or sister or much of anything. I don’t mind the silence, although I much prefer filling it. Talking is my thing, as outgoing as I am. The quiet bores me.

The moment I pull up outside the bar, Darren’s up and out of the truck before I’ve shifted it into park. He leaves me with a quick wave as he weaves around the few vehicles in the parking lot and ducks inside the building. His first stop will be at the bar. A tall glass of whiskey will be in his hand the moment I step inside.

Poor guy. He’s been through the goddamn wringer this past year.

I pull my truck keys from the ignition and step into the night. Once my boots hit the pavement, I reach up to bend the brim of my baseball cap and then readjust the buckle on my belt before chasing after Darren.

It’s been a scorching summer, and tonight, that June heat lingers, slipping its sweat-slicked fingers along the back of my neck. My farmer’s tan is atrocious. To the point I’ve been considering stripping my clothes off during the day just to try and tan my bright white ass and chest.

Wade Steele would kick my ass three ways to Sunday if I walked around his ranch with my dick out, though. So it’s best I keep my clothes on while I’m working unless I’m itching for punishment.

Peakside is as busy as it’s ever been when I step inside. The music is loud, a handful of couples out on the makeshift dance floor two-stepping along with it. Some do a good job, while others look like they’ve never heard a steady country beat in their lives.

I suck back a laugh as I lock onto Poppy and Garrison. Poppy leads him through the simplest dance I’ve ever seen, and he manages to only stumble a few times. The stuffy, arrogant CEO who arrived in Cherry Peak two months ago now is a far cry from the guy I see today, holding his woman like he’s terrified of ever letting her go again. I won’t say I’m responsible for their relationship, but I’m not about to deny that I had something to do with it. Or rather, something to do with kicking his ass into gear when he needed it.

The next couple I find is Brody and Anna, the most well-known duo in this town due to Brody’s country music career. Goddamn, everywhere I look, happy couples greet me. It’s a kick to a romantic man’s gut. I feel the tip of the boot against my ribs, the impact nearly pushing the air from my lungs.

Avoiding the dance floor, I loop around the outside of it and then stall, my head going empty in a blink. Air whooshes through my ears before everything comes flooding back, creating a pulse in my brain that should hurt but doesn’t.

Her.

The woman sitting all alone at the table my friends and I always occupy is the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Long, dirty-blonde hair with golden streaks, full pink lips that naturally lift on the right side, and eyes that I want on me. Stormy ocean-blue ones. The colour of rough waves beneath the helm of a ship.

They’re dim, dull, despite the startling colour. Her long fingers tap on the edge of the table, over the scratched wood and years’ worth of stains that just won’t come off no matter how hard they’re scrubbed at. She watches the couples dancing but makes no move to get up and join them. I want to know why.

The moment she looks up, as if feeling the weight of my stare on her, I’m moving. Making a beeline in her direction, my long legs eat up the space between us. A few people turn to stare at me as I sidestep out of their way, not risking looking away from the woman to watch where I’m going. One blink and I fear she’d be gone. A figment of my imagination. A dream, maybe.

My heart is racing, thumping so damn hard against my ribs that I’m scared it’ll burst right through them. I don’t stop walking until I’m standing in front of the table, my breaths huffed as I stare down at her in awe.

Finally, our eyes lock, and just like that, I know I need to dance with her. Need just a single moment in her presence, with her in my arms, before the moment disappears.

“Hi,” I say, offering her a shaky hand. “Feel like dancing with me?”

She blinks slowly, digesting both my sudden presence and question. Her posture straightens, and I know I’ve come on too strong, but I don’t give a shit. Now isn’t the time for subtle.

“I don’t know how to dance,” she says, the rough rasp in her voice sounding far too natural. I feel the effect of it deep in my gut as it burns hot.

“I’m a damn good dancer, darlin’. I promise I won’t let you slip up.”

“Promises from a stranger don’t mean much to me.”

“So let’s not be strangers. I’ll tell you all about myself while we’re dancin’.”

I grin, wide and bright, knowing that both my dimples are on display and loving the way she can’t help but glance at them. Some of her steel softens, and I take advantage of the change.

I lean down and slip both of her hands into mine, using them to turn her in the booth until she faces me. She shakes her head but doesn’t pull away. Her soft hands stay tucked inside my loose hold.

“A woman like you deserves to dance.”

She lifts her brow, staring me down. “A woman like me?”

“A woman beautiful enough to make a grown man’s knees shake at the sight of you. To have him tripping over his feet just to get over to you before someone else swoops in.”

“Do you even know my name?” she asks.

“’Course I do, Aurora.” It rolls off my tongue far more seductively than I meant it to, but fuck does it ever sound good.

She’s Anna’s new employee. The new girl in town that two weeks ago stumbled in out of nowhere. Nobody knows a damn thing about her. But I want to.

I’m incredibly fucking curious about her now.

Her cheeks turn a soft pink, and those plump lips part on words that get lost in the music around us. I tug her up and out of the booth before sweeping her into my arms and leading us into a slow, easy sway between the tables.

She’s stiff, her eyes wide. I wait for her to shove me off. Instead, a beat later, her hand settles on my shoulder. I keep a hand on her round hip, ensuring my touch is respectful despite every inch of me screaming to explore the soft, curvy body so close to mine.

“You’ve drawn a crowd, Johnny,” she whispers, tipping her head back to stare up at me.

She’s tall, but the way she still has to crane her head to look at me right now has my pride tripling in size.

“You know my name.”

“And I was expecting you to be wearing a cowboy hat tonight,” she says.

“Disappointed?”

I spin us around, glancing over the top of her head to find Poppy and Garrison and Brody and Anna watching us without a care of how obvious they appear. Ignoring them, I give Aurora’s hand a squeeze and pull her a hair closer.

“Not disappointed. Just surprised,” she says.

I can’t keep from smiling again as I wink. “If I had brought it, I’d have already set it on your pretty head.”

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t think I’d look good beneath it?”

Oh , we’re flirting now, are we? I’m a downright feral beast beneath my calm exterior. Her perfume drifts up my nose, and I swallow a groan.

Dipping my head, I bring my lips to the hot shell of her ear and say, “No doubt in my mind you’d look perfect beneath it. But there’s a rule when it comes to a man settin’ his hat on a woman, Aurora.”

Her breath hitches. “A rule?”

“Curious now? ”

“You know I am,” she mutters, jerking her head to the side so I’m forced to give her space again.

“I’ll tell you the rule if you keep dancing with me,” I barter.

“I’m already dancing with you.”

“I want more time.”

“I wasn’t even going to come tonight. I’ve given you enough of my time.”

Her attitude makes me stiffen in my jeans. I fight the urge to readjust myself and spin us around again, this time maneuvering so she can roll out along my extended arm without hitting a table. Her plain tan sandals scuff along the floor when I pull her back into my grasp and quicken our pace.

“I can beg if you want. I’m not above it. Just don’t make me get down on the floor. It’s filthy,” I tease.

Her eyes aren’t dull anymore. They’re alive, bright, the blue nearly glittering. They light up her face like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume she’s having fun with me right now.

She rolls her lips together before letting the corner of her mouth tug into a half-smile. “Something tells me you don’t mind getting filthy.”

“I sure as shit don’t. But not here. I have a feeling the moment I let you go, you’ll take off on me.”

Her throat strains with a swallow that I nearly miss behind the curtain of her wavy hair. My fingers itch to touch the shiny strands just a single time. But I keep my hands where they are, one on her waist and the other wrapped around her fingers.

“You’re smart,” she replies.

“So why haven’t you shoved me off yet? I’d hate it, but I’d let you go.”

Her fingers splay over my shoulder, and I fight off a shiver when she lowers them to my bicep, keeping them there. The soft prick of her nails through my shirt is criminal. A threat or a promise, I’m not sure yet.

I’m out of my depth here right now. Not once in my life have I experienced anything like this before. Love at first sight or something cheesy like that. Yeah, it’s gotta be. Or close to it.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, her perfectly plucked brows scrunching together. They’re thick and bold but somehow work on her features without being too much.

“Just let go, then. Let yourself have fun.” With me , I don’t say. It goes without saying.

Another song starts, this one slower than the previous ones. I almost laugh when I recognize the male voice on the track. They do this every damn time Brody’s here, either to bug him or to flatter him, I’m not fucking sure. He hates it either way.

I dip my chin and chase Aurora’s gaze as she attempts to keep it darting around the bar. Her expression has shifted in the past few seconds. To one of concern, fear maybe. My mind runs laps, attempting to come up with something to say to make her stay or to recall what it was exactly that could have sparked this.

She doesn’t give me the chance.

As if struck by a realization of something, she drops her hand from my arm and yanks her hand from mine. I freeze, taking a gutted step backward as she twirls and grabs a long-strapped black purse from the booth and loops it over her head.

My throat is dry as I blurt out, “Don’t go.”

“You got your dance, but I’m not here for fun.” She doesn’t look at me when she adds, “Bye, Johnny.”

By the time I get myself to move, she’s already shoving open the door and all but leaping into the night. I stare at the door and lean back against the table behind me, hoping to fuck it will support my weight because my legs are doing a piss-poor job of it.

I should chase after her, right? Fuck , no, I shouldn’t. In the few minutes I just spent with her, something tells me she wouldn’t appreciate me following after her like a desperate fool.

No, for now, I’ll let her run. But I’m far from done getting to know Aurora, and I intend on learning all I can.

Soon.

It would be a crime against the universe not to, after all.