Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIZZY
A bell over the door dings as I enter the pizza parlor, the tantalizing aroma of crisp crust, tomato, and spicy sausage washing over me. A “Help Wanted” sign hanging in the window confirms that the owners are hiring, and the starting pay listed is good.
I just hope they haven’t found someone already.
Little Slice of Heaven is warm and inviting, with a huge brick pizza oven and red-and-white checked cloths spread over the tables. A friendly female voice calls out from the back, and a freckled woman with coppery-chestnut hair emerges, wiping her hands on her apron.
She’s heavily pregnant — probably close to full term — and her cheeks are flushed with the heat from the oven. I instantly get a good feeling about her, especially when her mouth stretches in a welcoming grin. “Dining in?”
“Uh, no,” I stammer, glancing at the sign. “I’m actually here to apply for the waitressing job.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “I just moved here from Denver, and Chase Griffith is my neighbor. He said you were hiring.”
“Yeah, we are.” She holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Sienna.”
“Lizzy.”
“Ooh. Sorry about the —” She waves her hands, which are still coated in flour.
“It’s all right. Flour is better than movie theater butter. I was popcorn girl for a summer.”
Sienna’s smile widens. “Well, I’m glad Chase sent you our way.
” Her brow furrows, and she tilts her head toward the back of the restaurant as she half-yells, “My husband seems to think I need to hire more help for some reason.” She gestures impatiently at her gigantic bump, and a male voice grumbles something from the back.
Her husband, I imagine. I bite back a grin of my own.
“I’m thirty-eight weeks, and then we’ll have a newborn, so . . .”
My heart sinks. “Is the position . . . temporary?”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “We’re headed into summer, which is almost as busy as ski season. And more and more people seem to be discovering the place, which means we’ve been slammed.”
I nod, feeling better.
“Do you have any experience?”
“Yes. I’ve waited tables on and off for six or seven years. I’m a photographer, but it doesn’t quite pay the bills.”
Sienna’s brows shoot up. “You’re a photographer?”
“I am. Well, sort of.”
“Oh, Gunner!” Sienna exclaims, turning to yell into the back. “She’s a photographer!”
Another male grunt, though this one sounds interested rather than annoyed.
Sienna turns back to me, running a hand over her bump.
“I really want to get some newborn photos taken. Nothing cheesy like when they put the baby in the middle of a big fake flower or anything. Just a few pictures to capture them when they’re all pink and tiny .
. .” Her eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t get to do it the first time around, and .
. .” She sniffs, wiping her eyes with a corner of her apron.
It’s then that the man in the back makes an appearance, sliding up behind his wife and wrapping his arms around her. He’s huge, and his eyes skim over me as though his wife’s tears are my fault.
“Sorry. Pregnancy hormones,” Sienna sniffs. “Anyway, I also want to get some photos of the four of us . . . You know, as a family.”
I nod, fresh excitement bubbling up in my gut. “Absolutely. I’d love to do a session with you whenever you’re feeling up to it.”
I’ve never photographed a newborn before, but a sleepy, brand-new baby has to be easier than some of the toddlers I’ve wrangled for photoshoots.
“Great!” says Sienna. “And if you can start waiting tables next week, you’re hired.”
“Really?” I can hardly believe my luck. A steady job and a photography gig? “Thank you. Thank you,” I stammer, looking from her to Gunner. “Yes, I can start next week.”
“Perfect.” Sienna grabs her phone to take down my details, promising to text me my schedule.
I leave the pizza parlor with a light, buoyant feeling in my chest. If I do a good job for Sienna and Gunner, maybe they’ll refer me to their friends. A few more clients here and there, and I might actually have a shot at making my dream job a reality.
I stop by the general store to stock up on groceries, picking out all the ingredients I need to make a thank-you dinner for Chase before heading back to Blue River.
When I reach the A-frame, my stomach tightens, and I find myself searching the outside of the house for any sign that Bryce has been here since I left. There are no fresh tire tracks and no sign of a vehicle, but I’m still on edge as I grab my keys and carry the groceries inside.
Cinders meets me as I open the door as if he’s been mine all his life. He purrs as he rubs up against my ankle, and I feel some of my earlier tension ebb away.
I always wanted a cat, but Bryce claimed he was allergic. Knowing what I know now, however, I’m thinking he just didn’t like them.
Cats and wolves don’t mix.
The thought that he was lying about being allergic makes me want to become the world’s craziest cat lady just because I can.
Without Bryce trying to control me, I’m free to take in whatever pets I want and build the life I envisioned.
I can keep doing my photography on the side without him complaining that it takes up too much of my time and even make friends with the handsome marine next door.
Buoyed by that thought, I unpack the groceries and set about making Chase’s casserole. I was distracted, to say the least, when I unpacked my kitchenware, so it takes twice as long as usual to gather the things I need and get the dish in the oven.
Even with something to occupy my hands and mind, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering to Chase.
I keep picturing how he looked stretched out on the bathroom floor, his muscles bulging, and those few inches of golden skin along his waistband.
I keep thinking of how safe I felt curled up in his arms and the memory of his delicious masculine scent all around me.
Stop, I tell myself as the timer beeps. You just got out of a relationship. You don’t need to be jumping into another one. Dad would have wanted you to stand on your own two feet.
But the truth is, I can’t stop myself from thinking of Chase. It’s not just his gorgeous blue eyes or that dazzling smile. And it’s certainly not those yards of taut muscle.
He’s kind and strong and brave enough to stand up to Bryce. Since the moment we met, he’s gone out of his way to take care of me and make me feel safe. Any woman would be lucky to have him, but he sure as hell doesn’t need a broke, hot mess of a girl like me.
Trying to get a grip on myself, I go into the bathroom to comb my hair and dab on some fresh lip gloss. I tell myself it’s because I’ve been running around all day, but the truth is that I want him to want me, even if I can’t have him.
My heart lodges in my throat as I walk the short distance to Chase’s cabin and knock on his front door. He answers after a few seconds, and I don’t think I imagine the way his eyes light up when he sees me.
“Your thank-you casserole, as promised,” I say.
Geez, why didn’t I even try to think of something better to say? Anything would have been preferable to “thank-you casserole.”
But Chase’s mouth stretches into a broad grin, and he steps aside to let me pass. “It smells amazing.”
“My secret is two cups of shredded cheese and a whole stick of butter.”
A sexy chuckle rumbles through him, and I try not to stare at how good he looks in his low-slung jeans and the light blue T-shirt that brings out the color of his eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, gesturing for me to sit down at the kitchen table. “I hope you don’t mind, but while you were in town, I got your new security system up and running.”
“My new what?”
Chase grimaces, rubbing his neck. “I . . . should have asked first. I overstepped. Only, you were worried he might come back, and I thought —”
“You thought it would make me feel safer,” I say gently, my heart nearly bursting as I watch him squirm.
His face brightens, and he gives a sheepish nod, his gaze darting to his laptop.
“Show me,” I say quietly, still marveling at this gorgeous man who went out of his way to make me feel secure in my home.
The tension in his shoulders seems to ease as he gestures to the screen, which shows a video of my front yard. My Blazer is parked outside, and as he flicks through the camera views, I see that there are video feeds of the front entrance, the back, as well as both sides.
“The cameras are motion-activated, and the system stores all the videos in the cloud. You’ll probably get a lot of footage of deer and Cinders, but at least you’ll be able to see if anyone’s been there.”
My throat burns with emotion as he downloads the app onto my phone and shows me how to reset my password so that only I can access the security feeds.
“How—” I break off. I can’t afford this. But, more than that, I’m curious how he managed to get these cameras up in such a short amount of time.
“A buddy of mine works in private security,” Chase explains. “He’s always telling me to get this set up for my place since I’m gone so much, but I’ve never gotten around to it. I had all the components here.”
“I can’t accept this.”
Chase grins. “It’s already done.”
I blink back tears, my chest aching at the thought of Chase spending his morning on a ladder installing cameras just so that I would have an added sense of security.
It’s not just that he wants to protect me from Bryce. He wants me to feel safe to live life on my own terms. It’s more than anyone has done for me since my dad was alive, and I feel my earlier resolve start to crumble.
I came here intending to drop the casserole off and return to my cabin. I told myself that I would set some healthy boundaries and keep things neighborly with Chase.
No more relying on him to make repairs.
No more falling asleep in his arms.
But the way he’s looking at me now, it’s hard to pretend that I haven’t started to develop feelings for this beautiful, thoughtful man.
“Thank you,” I say hoarsely. “For everything.”
He swallows, his gaze flicking to my lips so fast I almost missed it. “It was no trouble.”
We’re both bent over the laptop, so when I turn fully to face him, he’s mere inches away. I can see every dark lash curling beneath those stunning blue eyes.
My gaze drops to his lips the way his did only seconds before, and I curse myself for my own weakness. Chase leans forward almost imperceptibly, and I’m overcome with the urge to wrap myself around this man and never let go.
It’s not the security cameras that make me feel safe, I realize. It’s him.
Throwing caution to the wind, I close the distance between us and brush my lips against his.