Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Chase
Timber Tavern is alive tonight, and after the day I've had with Piper, I'm practically floating through the door.
The room glows with hundreds of fairy lights strung across rough-hewn beams, the massive stone fireplace crackling with flames that send heat roaring across well-worn leather booths.
I take off my coat and help Piper out of hers, hanging them on the rack by the door. The jukebox hums something low and soulful in the corner, barely loud enough to be heard over the laughter coming from the direction of the dartboard, and the sharp crack of pool balls connecting.
This place is home.
Not my apartment where I'm mostly alone, but here.
Where Charlie knows my order before I sit down, where the guys razz me about everything from my hiking boots to my taste in music, where Sunday nights feel like the family dinners I never had.
And tonight, it's even better. Because I'm bringing Piper into it.
Piper smooths her hands down the front of her sweater, a soft cashmere thing in cream. She glances around the tavern with those bright blue eyes that have been driving me insane all day.
"I can't believe I left this place to climb a fire escape last night."
"You were very determined."
"I was very drunk."
"You were very sexy." I lean closer, dropping my voice. "Still are."
Her cheeks flush, and I want to kiss the color spreading across her skin. Want to peel that expensive sweater off and discover what she's wearing underneath all over again.
Is that allowed? I've never done this before… friends with benefits… where does the line start, and where does it end?
Perhaps we could skip dinner entirely and take her back to my place to properly seal our little 'arrangement.'
The one where we're supposed to keep things casual.
Fun.
Except right now, watching firelight dance across her face and her lips part slightly as she looks up at me, casual with this beautiful woman still feels impossible.
"Chase."
"Piper."
"We're in public."
"I'm aware."
"You're looking at me like—"
"Like I want to take you home and make you climb something else?"
She laughs, breathless. "Exactly like that."
We've been to various spots around town all afternoon. We picnicked with sodas at the meadow, grabbed a beer at the overlook, then swung by the station where Knox gave her the full tour like she was royalty.
She laughed at everything. Asked questions. Fit in like she'd been here forever instead of forty-eight hours.
Now she's tucked against my side in a corner booth of my favorite bar, and I'm half-convinced I've died and gone to some beer-commercial version of heaven.
But when do I get to take her home and ravish her all over again?
Charlie spots us from behind the bar and waves, already reaching for two frosted glasses.
"Finally! Told you I'd save you the good booth," he calls, sliding out from behind the walnut counter to stand at the end of our table.
He sets down two cocktails—his signature honey-whiskey concoction he calls the 'Timber Kiss,' which is basically liquid fire dressed up as dessert.
"On the house," Charlie says, winking at Piper. "First-timer special."
"You're going to spoil me," Piper says, wrapping both hands around the glass like it's precious.
"That's the plan."
Piper leans forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her interlaced fingers. "How long have you owned this place, Charlie?"
"Going on eight years now." He gestures toward the bookshelf along the far wall. "Found it half-collapsed, fixed it up board by board."
"You did all this yourself?"
"Most of it. Had help from the locals." His smile goes crooked. "Town's good at pitching in when something matters."
"It's beautiful," Piper breathes, scanning the room like she's cataloging every detail. "You should be proud, Charlie. It feels like stepping into a different era."
"That's the idea. You'd know better than most, coming from the city… This modern world's exhausting. Figured people needed somewhere to slow down, to relax and just… be."
Piper nods, eyes bright with genuine interest, and I should be listening.
Should be contributing to the conversation.
Instead, I'm watching her mouth form words, the way her bottom lip catches between her teeth when she pauses to listen. The soft curve of it, pink and full. All I can think about is how it tasted this morning in my kitchen.
How I want to lean across this table, cup her jaw, and bite down on that lip until she makes the same breathless sound she made when I took her home last night.
Do I get to do that again tonight?
"Well, I know better than to keep this grumpy bear hungry," Charlie winks at me. "I'll go and check on your food and be back shortly."
Charlie grins and disappears back toward the kitchen. Piper sighs and smiles across at me.
"Grumpy? I highly doubt that," she says lightly.
"You've never seen me when I'm hungry."
"Is that a threat?"
"Nope. It's a warning." I slide my foot under the table, running it slowly up her calf. "I get cranky when I don't eat."
Her breath catches, eyes darkening as my foot climbs higher. "Cranky how?"
"Impatient. Demanding." I press against the inside of her knee. "Some might even say… reckless."
She catches my wink and licks her lips. "Sounds terrible."
"The worst."
She's leaving soon. Fuck. She's really leaving soon. If I don't make my move tonight, who knows if she'll follow through with the 'agreement.' Maybe she won't come back every weekend.
"Here we are kind folks," Charlie says, returning with plates that make my mouth water just looking at them.
"Thanks, Charlie," Piper says, practically eye-fucking the food dropped in front of her.
To be fair… the Elk Smash burgers are incredible.
Thick patties glazed with maple-bacon heaven, topped with caramelized onions and sharp cheddar, all stacked on brioche buns that glisten under the tavern lights.
Mountain fries are piled high on the side, crispy and golden and dusted with that addictive rosemary salt I never have enough of.
And because Charlie's a goddamn saint, he returns one last time with a cast-iron skillet brownie, sitting it between us with only one spoon, vanilla ice cream already melting into rivers of sweetness.
"Told you burgers were lookin' good," Charlie says, crossing his arms with satisfaction. "Also, maple-bacon glaze? Fuck yes. I've discovered the Holy grail, you guys. Enjoy."
Piper stares at her plate.
"Remember, Chicago," I lean closer, voice dropping low enough that only she can hear. "Per clause three of the napkin contract, public flirting is permitted."
"What?"
I weave the reminder of the contract in casually, hoping that triggers the same thing it does for me with her. I want tonight. I want her.
"Oh, come on. You're about to make out with that burger, baby."
She blinks, then laughs. "I am not. I'm a lady of good grace. Now where's my knife and fork?"
I throw my head back with laughter. "You are absolutely not eating that thing with a knife and fork. Plus, I've seen that look before." I gesture at her plate. "That's the same expression you had right before you kissed me this morning."
"Chase Morrison." Her cheeks flush pink. "That is completely different."
"Is it though?" I pick up a fry, dragging it through ketchup. "Because you're looking at that burger like you want to take it home and do unspeakable things to it."
"Oh my God." She covers her face with both hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You're ridiculous."
Her laugh is bright and unguarded, and I want to bottle it.
Charlie somehow lingers close enough to catch the entire exchange. I catch him grinning and he just winks at me and says, "Booth's yours all night. But if you two get mushy, you owe me a jukebox slow dance."
"Deal," I say without thinking, because watching Piper's irresistible body sway to music by the firelight of my favorite place in the world… that sounds like the best idea anyone's ever had.
Charlie disappears again, and I turn my full attention to the woman beside me.
She's backlit by flames, hair catching copper and gold, licking salt from her thumb. Her eyes sparkle with honey-whiskey warmth, and that sweater she's wearing makes the world feel like its ours tonight.
Ours.
The word slips through my defenses before I can stop it.
Our booth. Our place. Our forever weekends.
I shove the thought down with a massive bite of burger, because we have rules. Rules that I helped create to keep this… this thing on track.
Except I'm pretty sure I've already broken every single one.
The teen server who I helped with dishes this morning at Bear Paw Café swings by and drops extra napkins and a side of pickles on our table with a shy smile.
"From Charlie," he says. "We've got some more drinks coming too. You need anything, just wave."
"Thank you," Piper raises her glass in a toast, eyes locked on mine. "To burgers and weekly bad decisions. May my mother have a fit upon my return."
"Hear, hear!" I clink my glass against hers, holding her gaze. "To weekends that feel like always."
Her smile falters for just a second, and something vulnerable and scared flickers across her face. Then she recovers and takes a long sip before I can look too much further.
I file that reaction away under things to worry about later and focus on the present.
Right now, she's here. In Stone River. Laughing. Looking at me like I'm the only person in the room worth seeing.
That's enough.
It has to be.
Because that's more than I've ever had.
The tavern door swings open with a blast of cold air, and Knox and Travis barrel in like they always do… like they own the place. My best friends are somehow drawn to this place by some sixth sense that tells them the food is hot, and new gossip awaits at the bottom of a beer glass.
"Well, well, well," Knox says, sliding into the booth across from us with zero invitation. "Look who finally emerged from his love nest."