Chapter Fourteen
LYRIC
Four Months Later
November
The past four months have flown by. Mainly because everything is so freaking great, I can’t even express how much I love my life right now.
Love and Lavender is booming. Polly’s eating his fruit because Chase spends most of his nights here. And Chase and I are doing so well, even I think we’re disgustingly adorable.
Life. Is. Bliss.
Chase and Rory get along so well that their banter is just as good as Chase’s and mine.
But of course, I still think he prefers a good sparring match with me any day.
I do question him on his friends and why I haven’t met them yet, but he continues to tell me he’d rather spend his time with me.
I guess that’s sweet and all, a little strange maybe, but if he wants to focus on me, then perhaps that’s positive.
Though I really would like to meet some of them and get to know them like he has mine.
Maybe he doesn’t have any? Now that is a concerning thought.
Chase gets busy with work at times, and it feels like the divorce detective industry is booming these days.
It’s sad that women have to resort to that.
Why not just talk to your husband rather than framing him?
But if Chase is helping these women get what they need, then that’s a good thing, I suppose.
I don’t care if he needs to be at his office during the day.
All I care about is that he comes home dressed in his fine-ass suit, and damn does he have a fine ass in his suit.
But right now, I’m at home, it’s the weekend, and Chase will be arriving soon.
He has a key to let himself in, even though I’ve never been to his house in the Hills.
It’s strange, but this place has become our haven.
He says it grounds him, and if I’m honest, the Hills only remind me of a life I never want to live.
My vacuum roars in the living room as I sway my hips to the latest Taylor Swift mega hit.
I carry the handle for the vacuum in one hand and sing at the top of my lungs.
I can’t really hear anything over the booming music, the vacuum, and my own singing voice.
This is kind of a ritual for me when I do housework.
I may not want to be a singer, and I don’t want to perform under grand lights or rock out to a packed stadium because singing at home by myself is fun.
Sliding the vacuum down the last line of the living room, I hit the chorus of the song, dancing to my own rhythm.
I turn off the vacuum, pull it upright, and spin around to head for the kitchen.
Holy mother of God! I jump nearly a foot in the air, grabbing at my chest when I see a shadow leaning against the hall wall.
A small scream escapes my lips as I almost fall over backward in fright.
Chase is watching me.
He wears a smug grin, like catching me mid-performance is the highlight of his day, and all that does is make him so freaking handsome.
With his arms crossed and a relaxed confidence about him, he looks as though watching me is his favorite pastime.
“It’s just me, Starlight.” He silences the music with that effortless smoothness he’s made his own.
I let out a loud exhale before I slump. “Jesus! Scare a girl half to death, Chase.”
He shifts his position from the hall and walks toward me. “My bad. It’s just so amazing watching you in your element.”
I snort, moving to the coffee table, wiping it down. “Not my element. Not even in the same stratosphere.”
He exhales, stepping right up to me and grabs my elbow. “Lyri, what if I told you I knew someone… someone who was in the music industry and could help you get your singing career off the ground?”
I screw up my face in annoyance. “I’d tell you to tell your someone to go to hell because I’m not now, nor will I ever be, interested. You know this, Chase.”
He exhales. “But what if—”
“Beetlejuice!” I yell out, my arms flying into the air in frustration.
He stops instantly, his eyes widening as he assesses me.
“I don’t want to fucking talk about this, Chase. I call Beetlejuice on this conversation, okay?”
He gulps hard. “Okay…” His tone is clearly deflated as he backs away a little. “Whatever you want, Lyri. I only want what’s best for you.”
Dammit! I immediately feel like I’ve let Mother Tay Tay down. In her very poetic words, ‘I need to calm down.’
I step a little closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I know. This brings me to another point… we have been dating for about four months. When do you think we should be meeting our families?”
He tenses. “My dad’s so busy—”
“What about your mom?” I interrupt.
His eyes roam all over the place like he’s trying to come up with some excuse but is drawing a blank. “I can ask if she has some time.”
“Can you? I’d love to meet her. I’ll ask my family, but they’re all around the world on tour right now. As soon as any of them get back in the country, I will have them come over to meet you.”
His face goes still, like the idea of meeting them genuinely rattles him.
It’s the first flicker of uncertainty I’ve seen in him.
Mr. Hallmark himself is actually nervous about making a good impression?
I never would have pegged him for the type to get in his own head.
He’s usually so damn confident, it borders on cocky.
He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’d love that. But right now, we have somewhere to be. I need to get you in the shower and ready to go out.”
“And where are we going exactly?”
“To have some fun.”
I raise my brow with a smirk. “Oh, we are, are we?”
“Uh-huh, and we won’t be alone. So, we need to hurry up because they’ll be waiting.”
My eyes open wide. “Who?”
“You’ll see.” He grabs my hand, ushering me toward my shower in haste.
I grin up at him. “You look like you’ve had a tough day at work. I think you need to unwind a little before we go out. A nice, hot, relaxing shower should help you with that. Don’t you think?”
He keeps pushing me toward my bathroom. “Babe, there isn’t enough time for me to have a shower as well. I’m good. You get ready, and I’ll feed Polly,” he states.
I let out a low, sultry groan, turning in his arms and ditching my subtlety like panties on prom night.
His body stills, the shift in my tone not lost on him.
His eyes drop to mine, narrowing like he’s about to lecture me, but that righteous Hallmark energy falters the second my hand drops to palm his cock through his suit pants, and he twitches in my hand.
Oh, he felt that.
So did I.
His chest rises sharply, a curse caught on his tongue as I squeeze him just enough to remind him I mean business. “Think about it, Chase,” I murmur, my voice husky with promise. “We both need a shower, but there’s only limited time.”
I don’t break eye contact as I trace him slowly, the thick ridge of him growing even harder under my palm. His breath catches, and I feel the battle in him, the man who plays by the rules, and the man I clearly want to break them with.
His jaw ticks. His gaze heats. Then his lips part, the breath he releases coming out shaky.
I rise up on my toes, letting my body press against his while I graze a teasing kiss to his lips, soft, slow, sinful, before pulling back just enough for him to miss it.
“How ’bout it, Hallmark?” I whisper, voice dripping with flirtation. “Wanna get all dirty with me in the shower?”
He groans, low and rough, like he’s fighting every logical thought in his head.
Then his hands grip my hips, yanking me flush against him, his cock rock hard now between us.
“Babe…” he growls, leaning down until his lips brush my ear, “… you start something like that, you better be ready to finish it… soap optional.” A low growl echoes from his chest when he suddenly scoops me up and over his shoulder.
I let out a loud squeal as my face falls in line with his ass.
Damn, his fine ass. His large palm quickly slaps me, not hard but firm enough to make my cheek tingle.
“You are a troublemaker,” he calls out, rushing us through the house to the bathroom, both of us laughing.
“Rawrr… fuckers, fuckers,” Polly squawks from the other end of the house.
Chase hurries through the bathroom door, placing me carefully on the vanity. My legs dangle over the edge as he shuffles out of his suit jacket, slamming the door shut to drown out Polly’s incessant cussing.
I yank my tank top over my head, throwing it to the floor.
It lands on the round, shaggy bathmat next to Chase’s jacket.
Removing my bra, I let it fall as well before he leans in, roughly kissing my neck.
My fingers shift to the buttons on his shirt.
I hate these fucking little things. They’re the bane of my existence.
We’re short on time as it is, so I make a judgment call.
I tighten my fingers on either side of his shirt and pull hard.
Tiny white plastic circles start popping off, flying in all directions around my bathroom.
Chase’s head snaps back, his eyes focusing on me. “Did you just rip open my shirt?”
I try to hold in my giggle. “We’re short on time. They take too long.”
He chuckles like that was the highlight of his day while he shuffles out of his completely ruined shirt. “That was the fucking hottest thing I think you’ve ever done to me.”
“Oh, well, if you’re impressed by that, wait till you see what I do to your pants.”
He moves his hands to his belt. “Uh-uh… ah, I want to keep some items of clothing intact. But if you think your panties are safe from now on, you have another thing coming.”
I tilt my head as I watch him lower his pants. “Promises, promises.”