Chapter Ten
Chase
Morning light slants through the bedroom window, turning the tangled sheets into something that belongs in an ancient Roman painting… if painters had been into depicting post-sex chaos.
And the kind of satisfaction that makes a man feel like he could bench-press a mountain.
Piper's sprawled across three-quarters of my bed, one leg hooked over mine, her hair a wild mess across my pillow. She's wearing nothing but my T-shirt from last night, the hem riding up to reveal the curve of her beautiful bare ass.
I'm pretty sure I've died and gone to some kind of heaven. A heaven where the goddess sleeps in, and occasionally steals the blankets.
We've been at this since she arrived yesterday evening.
The frantic reunion sex on the living room floor where we finally got what we both so desperately wanted, but neither of us was brave enough to ask for the last time she was here.
We had round two in the actual bed, slower, sweeter, with her wrapped around me like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.
Somewhere around two in the morning, with Betty's pot pie consumed and my new sheets a wreck, I woke her up with kisses trailing down her spine until she was writhing and begging for more.
We went again. Her face pressed into the pillow while I gripped her hips from behind, losing my goddamn mind at the view of this woman on all fours for me.
Then this morning.
Oh, this morning.
I'd stumbled to the kitchen around seven, determined to be the kind of guy who makes breakfast for his girl. The cinnamon rolls I picked up, scrambled eggs, toast with too much butter, sliced strawberries and two mugs of coffee... you know the deal.
I'd carried the whole production back to the bedroom on a tray I didn't even know I owned only to find Piper finally blinking awake, sleepy and rumpled and so beautiful it physically hurt.
The eggs went cold while we kissed. Then she'd declared the shower was calling her name, and I'd followed like the lovesick fool I am.
Jesus Christ, the shower.
I'd barely gotten the water hot before I had her pressed against the tiles, her legs wrapped around my waist, steam rising around us like we'd conjured our own private fog bank.
I fucked her hard and fast, one hand braced on the wall, the other gripping her thigh, water cascading over us while she clung to my shoulders.
It was quick. Filthy. So goddamn good I'm still riding the smug satisfaction hours later.
Now we're back in bed, dozing in that lazy post-everything haze where the world feels soft and far away.
Her toes wiggle against my calf, and I crack one eye open to find her grinning at the ceiling.
"We should probably do something," I murmur.
Piper's head turns, and that look, the one that says she's already mentally undressing me again reappears.
"Whoa, whoa." I hold up both hands in surrender. "You need to chill, baby. My dick officially hurts."
She laughs against my chest. "Awwww… poor baby. Would it help if I rubbed it?"
"I'm serious. I'm not eighteen anymore. There's a limit." I shift against the pillow, wincing for effect. "I meant we could go for a hike. Or hit the farmers market. You know, vertical activities that involve clothing."
"Vertical activities." She's grinning now, fingers walking up my chest. "How romantic."
"All I'm saying is if we stay in this bed, I'm going to need medical intervention." I catch her wandering hand, press a kiss to her knuckles. "Plus, I want to show you off. Let the whole town see you wearing my flannel again."
"Your flannel is currently somewhere on the living room floor."
"I have others. One for every day of the week, in fact."
"Of course you do."
"So?" I tug her closer. "Farmers market? Or fresh air?"
She pretends to consider, those long lashes batting in a way that makes her look so pretty, I don't think she even needs to try.
"Well… do you think my boots know they're about to be famous?"
"A hike it is. But if they squeak, I'm tossing them off the mountain."
She moves up my body, propping her chin higher on my chest, eyes bright with mischief. "You know… you're awfully cocky for a man I just wrecked in the shower."
"Please. I'm brave, not stupid." I brush a strand of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "Now hydrate and let's go for a walk. Or I might just fold and snap my dick in half trying to ravage you again."
"You? Fold?" She pokes my ribs. "The guy who carried me piggyback for half a mile?"
"You were in danger of twisting an ankle. Now you've got fancy boots. Time to field-test them." I sit up, pulling her with me. She stumbles out of bed, her bare ass flashing right in my face, prime real estate for smacking. "Go, you good thing, go!"
I land a smack on her ass, and she yelps, clutching her butt cheeks as she skips down the hall, laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own feet.
"Chase Morrison, cut that out!"
"You love it," I call after her, grinning like an idiot.
"Maybe!" She disappears into the bathroom, still giggling. "But I'm locking the door this time!"
"Coward!"
Her laughter echoes back and I flop back against the pillows, chest warm with something dangerously close to happiness.
Eventually, I swing my legs off the bed, stretching until my spine cracks. "Guess I'll pack the snacks."
Ten minutes later, I've assembled what I'm calling the 'Keep Piper Happy Trail Kit.'
Which is basically a thermos of coffee, trail mix heavy on the chocolate chips, two apples that are only slightly bruised, and a pack of Betty's lemon cookies.
I slip a mini pack of gummy bears into my jacket pocket, then grab Piper's favorite flannel from the back of the chair and stuff it into the daypack.
Piper emerges from the bedroom in those new boots, dark jeans that hug her in ways that should be illegal, and one of my old Stone River Mountain Rescue hoodies that swallows her whole.
She's pulled her hair into a messy-but-hot-as-fuck ponytail, and she looks like every fantasy I didn't know I had.
"Ready?" I ask, slinging the pack over my shoulder while reconsidering this idea altogether.
She does a little spin, modeling the boots. All I see is her stunning backside. "How do I look?"
"Like you're about to kick the mountain's ass."
"Damn right." She grabs my hand, tugging me toward the door. "Let's go, Morrison. Daylight's burning."
I lock up behind us, and the crisp mountain air hits like a blessing. The day outside is beautiful. Clear sky, pine-scent in the air, the distant sound of the creek running high from the midday snowmelt. Perfect.
"Let's go get lost," I say, and she squeezes my hand.
"Lead the way."
***
After a short drive, we pile out of my truck, and soon the trail unfolds like a love letter to everything I've come to treasure about Stone River Mountain.
Pine-shadowed trails where the low sunlight breaks through the overhead canopies, a narrow footbridge over a creek that tumbles over smooth stones, and finally a sun-dappled ridge where the sky stretches so blue and endless it feels like I'm bragging about spending every day of my damn life here.
Piper walks beside me, her new boots thudding confidently against the packed earth. She's got that focused expression she gets when she's fully present, not thinking about Chicago, or her mother.
She's just here. Just living in this moment with me.
I hand her the thermos at the first switchback, and she drinks with her eyes closed, savoring the rest stop.
"This is perfect," she murmurs, slightly out of breath.
"The coffee or the view?"
"Both." She passes it back, grinning. "Though I'm reserving final judgment until I see these lemon cookies you promised."
We crest the ridge, and I pull out an apple, tossing it to her. She catches it one-handed and takes a bite.
"Well? What do you think?" I gesture at the panorama stretching before us… valley, peaks, everything.
"I think you're showing off." She takes another bite of apple, eyes dancing. "Bringing me to the prettiest spot on the planet just to prove a point."
"And what point would that be?"
"That I should quit my job and move here immediately."
I laugh, but something in her expression shifts. The playfulness fades, replaced by something quieter. More vulnerable.
She stares down at her boots. Then her gaze travels up to her jeans, my oversized hoodie, the flannel that's now tied around her waist.
She shakes her head slowly, looking like she's on the verge of tears. It breaks my damn heart.
"What?"
"I dunno. Just being here, in the middle of all this. It makes me think."
"Is that a bad thing?"
She shrugs. "I don't know."
"Well, why don't you tell me?"
"This week was just… a lot," she says, voice light but carrying an edge I recognize. "Chicago is always… a lot, and I don't know if it's anything to do with—" She stops, then looks up at me, blinking.
"To do with me?"
"Yes… No…" She shrugs with floppy arms, nearly sending the apple flying down the cliff. "I don't know, Chase."
I keep my tone easy, non-threatening. "Tell me more about your week. Maybe that will help."
She takes another bite, chewing slowly like she's deciding how much to share. Then she shrugs, and it all spills out.
"Well, let's see. I scrubbed in for a tricky case and nailed it, but got yelled at by the head doctor anyway because apparently perfection isn't good enough when you're also supposed to read minds.
" She rolls her eyes. "I ate a dessert so tiny I had to zoom to see it at some charity thing Mother insisted I attend on her very late command.
Um, what else… Oh yeah. I sent you a photo of me in that dress and almost got you fired. "
I grin, remembering the way my phone lit up mid-rope drill with Piper in that dress. Midnight blue, backless, the kind of thing that made me want to book a flight to Chicago just to peel it off her.
"Nah. I saved that by claiming hydration break." I bump her shoulder. "Lucky for you, you looked so hot I was only gone five minutes. So please, continue."