Chapter Fourteen
The first thing Emma did when she got back to the guest house was drop her bag without unpacking it, turn on the fireplace, and throw herself down on her bed to try and process everything swirling in her brain.
She had kissed Chase. She was supposed to hate him and be bitter about spending money from her inheritance on a cocky millionaire action star — and then she kissed him.
Emma wondered what her grandmother would've thought of that. She made this challenge for Emma to spend money and have some fun apparently, and Emma had done just that with a gorgeous dress and a gold-leafed cheeseburger.
But was her grandmother trying to play matchmaker from the grave? Was there a reason she roped Chase into this? And why would she do that when she was planning her will?
Emma thought back to those nights at the hospital when Nana was struggling with the flu.
It was so silly and stupid and probably just a little bug she picked up at church or the grocery store or something.
But Nana was older and it was taking its toll on her.
They expected her stay at the hospital to be temporary.
She would have to miss one of her favorite conventions with Chase and Emma remembered Nana sending a text to him about rescheduling and she would see him in Palm Springs.
Emma didn't realize her grandmother had a superstar's phone number.
And then things started to go bad quickly and her grandmother was too weak to fight off the infection. She called her dad to come in, but he wasn't able to make it until after the funeral. They visited the cemetery together, just the two of them, and had lunch afterward before he left again.
Now things were even more confusing, and the one person she wanted to talk to who could sort all of this out was gone.
Emma was going to be back at the library on Monday, back to her normal life while still living in Chase Warwick's guest house. The action hero who was way out of her league.
The action hero who kissed her.
The action hero she ended up wrapped around this morning pretending to be asleep until he slipped out of her grasp, leaving her alone in bed to sort out her feelings and then barely saying anything more than polite conversation.
Chase used to have drinks with Nana. That didn't mean he was interested in Emma.
There was a soft knock at the door of her guest house, but it still felt jolting with Emma wallowing in her feelings. She knew there was only one person who would be knocking, and he was a man she both wanted to look at some more and couldn't get away from fast enough.
Emma pulled herself out of bed and walked over to find Chase on the other side of the door when she opened it.
"Hi," she tried to say casually.
"Good evening," Chase replied with a small smile. "I brought dinner."
Emma moved out of the way and gestured for him to come in.
He had changed into a black t-shirt and a pair of those slim-cut sweatpants that made him look amazing and probably cost more than all the clothes she had in the guest house closet.
He wore the hell out of those pants, which just infuriated Emma more.
He looked amazing and had a bazillion dollars and he was stuck with Emma until she spent enough money for him to run out.
But the way Chase stood in that space, staring at the bed as if he wasn't sure what to do or how to act, felt different now after their weekend at the convention.
"So... the bed?"
He raised a teasing eyebrow in her direction, back to his cocky self, which just made Emma wonder if there was a reason her mind chose the word "cocky" to describe him.
Rather than dwelling on that any longer, she just waved her hand towards the rumpled sheets, welcoming him in as she sat down on her side while Chase started unpacking the bag.
"I think Marcus just got the same order as last time for us."
Chase pulled the containers out with a flourish while Emma wondered how much Marcus knew about her favorite foods — and how much he knew about her night with Chase.
Sure, Marcus was Chase's assistant, but they were friends too.
Marcus knew about this challenge and about Emma before she had even met him. So what else would Chase tell him?
"Also, he said don't worry because he put this on your card and added the receipt to the envelope in the kitchen."
"Thanks," she replied quietly.
That only brought up another thing that Emma had never thought about until this stupid challenge. A receipt envelope. She and Nana had a take-out menu drawer that also had a screwdriver and a bunch of notes on scrap paper. The envelope of receipts was a temporary Marcus thing.
They ate in silence for a bit with Emma holding on to her small sushi tray to avoid looking at Chase. He had decided to prop himself up with the other pillow on the bed, his lanky legs in his slim-cut sweatpants stretched out on her bed. She knew if she looked, she would just end up staring.
"So can we talk about last night?"
He said it without looking at her, keeping his eyes on his sushi as he picked at it with his chopsticks.
It seemed like he was trying to be nonchalant about it, like it was no big deal, but there was something about the way he said it that made Emma think there was more there.
She couldn't give herself that hope though. It would be too much.
"Do we have to talk about it?"
She looked over to see a sly smile spread across Chase's face. "You're starting to sound like me," he said teasingly.
"Perhaps spending all that cash on you is wearing off on me."
She was trying to match his teasing, but there was something bitter about the way she said it that she couldn't help creeping into her voice. But she could see on Chase's face that he noticed it too, and perhaps even stung him a bit.
He sat up and quickly ate the last piece of sushi out of its container before getting up and tossing it in the trash can in the kitchen. Then he turned back and leaned over the bed, his lanky frame bent over as he looked down at her in a way that made her feel hot.
"Are you done with that?"
She looked down at her half-finished California roll that she had been poking at for too long. "Yeah."
"Great."
He took the container from her, put the lid back on, and carefully placed it in the fridge, moving around the place like he owned it.
Well, technically, he did own it, but Emma had tried to make it her own now that she had unpacked and spent some of her nights here — alone.
It was weird watching him feel so comfortable in this space that she had finally started to feel normal in.
But then he sat down, his leg folded under him on his side of the bed and Emma wondered when she had started to think about it being his side of the bed.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I do, so can you just let me say something?" Emma nodded and watched as Chase took a deep breath to continue. "I just want to tell you I'm sorry about what happened last night. Your grandmother trusted me to hang out with you and not... you know."
"You know?"
Chase gave her a scathing look. "Kiss you, Emma. I was supposed to just hang out with you, and I kissed you."
Emma scrunched up her face and closed her eyes. He made it sound like kissing her was a bad thing, but it wasn't. And why was he making it sound like it was his fault when she was the one who kissed him first?
She had been thinking about this since they got in the car this afternoon and it was just the two of them coming back from the convention.
It was the same route that her grandmother probably took from Palm Springs last year when she went to this convention.
Now she wondered what her grandmother would've thought of Emma sitting in Chase's BMW coming back from Chase's convention after kissing Chase's lips.
Emma could feel her shoulders slump as she tried to put words together for what she was feeling as if the weight of all of it was physically pushing down on her. But there was something about this whole arrangement that didn't sit right with her since it started.
"I honestly don't know what my grandmother wanted me to get out of this, so you shouldn't worry about what she trusted you to do or not do."
"Wow." She opened her eyes to see Chase staring at her. "So we're going through the anger part of your grief now?"
"Did I sound that bitter?"
His eyes lit up a little as he gave her a small smile.
"For normal people, no. For you, yes." He reached out and grabbed her hand, and there was that spark again that she felt when he kissed her.
"I'm sure this has been a lot for you and it's OK to not be sure of some things. So, say it. What are you unsure of?"
"What?"
Chase waved his free hand in the air. "I'm sounding like Marcus, I know. But I'm trying to be helpful and listen. So, what are you unsure of?"
She took a deep breath and looked down at her hand entwined with Chase. "I don't know why my grandmother never wanted to know how much she had in that account and how much she was going to make me spend on a millionaire action hero."
Emma looked up to see Chase staring at her, expecting something from him, anything. But she couldn't read his emotions at all. He was steeling his face to hide his feelings as if he was an actor who had trained to do things like that.
"That's fair," he said quietly.
"I mean, did she ever tell you why she was roping you into this?"
He gave her a tight smile. "Honestly, no. And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't get roped into anything. I'm happy to do this for you."
"Thank you." It was almost a whisper as if she couldn't fully explain what that meant to her along with all the other thoughts she was trying to clear in her head so she could focus on Chase. "There are just so many things I'm not sure of right now. It just all feels like a jumble in my head."