Chapter 44
CHAPTER
FORTY-FOUR
APRIL
This is beyond embarrassing. Lightyears, eons beyond horrifying.
I do not cry.
I didn’t when June took off.
Didn’t when dad was diagnosed.
And I didn’t when I found out Evan was cheating—though, technically, I did cry in the days following that.
But at least then, my heart was broken, I was unemployed, and a good cry session was long over-due.
Tonight, none of those circumstances apply, so I have no idea why I’m leaking tears now.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Chance pulls me into his chest and gives me a hug.
I inhale his intoxicating, spicy cologne and the tears, despite my best attempts, fall faster.
Get yourself together, April!
Not only am I having the most horrifying cry fest of my life, but I’m doing it against a 6’4” hockey player’s six pack abs.
What even is this madness?
I sniffle and pull a little away from Chance. He refuses to let me go so, while still in the circle of his embrace, I tilt my head up and use the power of gravity to keep the tears in.
“Let me get you a tissue,” Chance says. Rather than release me, he walks me backward toward the sink, plucks a tissue while keeping one hand secure around my hip, and dabs under my eyes.
Next, he grabs another tissue and moves to press it around my nose so I can blow. Embarrassed, I take the tissue from him, turn my face to the side and make an elephant-like noise that threatens to blow the roof off the suite.
When I’m done, Chance holds his hand out, palm up.
“Er, I’ll throw it away,” I mumble.
He allows me to step across the bathroom to the trash and doesn’t touch me again when I return. I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness. Right now, I can use the space. My head is spinning and I kind of wish I could hide under the bed until the horror fades.
“You want some time alone? I can go downstairs,” he offers.
“Dressed like that?” I sniff.
Chance spreads his bare arms wide, looking down at his body. “It would spice things up, don’t you think?”
I laugh through the tears.
He smiles and studies me with a soft, warm look. “I don’t ever think I’ve made a girl cry by calling her special before.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything.” I reach for another tissue. “I don’t know what came over me, I just…” My words falter and, sensing I need encouragement, Chance comes over and squeezes my hand.
“I think… for a long time, I haven’t felt very special at all.” Emotions well in my chest again. “I was the invisible presence in people’s lives. No one really saw me.”
Chance remains silent, taking in everything I say.
“Like June… she just up and left without even telling me. And then dad got sick and he couldn’t even remember my name…” I sob and the hand squeeze turns into a back rub of encouragement. “Wow, this is a trauma dump. I’m sorry.”
“No, I want to hear it. I want to know what hurts so I can make it better. And if I can’t, I want to make it feel lighter.” Chance swipes his thumb over my cheek, chasing away a tear. “Don’t cry, baby. It breaks my heart.”
My lashes quake, burdened by the tears. The tip of my nose burns.
I can’t describe what I’m feeling, but there’s a tide in my chest. A wave crashing into me. It feels… monumental.
“Are you real?” I look up at Chance in hushed wonder. “Are you really real?”
“If I’m a figment of your imagination, then you need a psychiatrist. And an exorcist.”
I chuckle, glad that he’s joking around. I’m so off-kilter that nervous laughter is the best I can do right now.
Chance presses a kiss to my forehead and then cages me against the bathroom sink, setting both hands on either side of me. “I’m not perfect, if that’s what you’re asking, but I also,” he brushes a lock of my hair aside, “have never been more ready to choose a woman the way I want to choose you.”
His sweet words are a balm and the tears stop flowing at last.
“You’re mine, April Brooks. I’m not saying that to be possessive. You’re my responsibility, you’re my partner. You’re my ‘I’ll get up in the middle of the night and come right over if you call’. You’re my ‘I’ll hand over wrenches and spanners and whatever tool you ask for even though I don’t know anything about cars’. You’re it for me.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “You know… a spanner is just another name for a wrench.”
“Really? Wow.”
I laugh again, louder than I have all night. “I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”
“That’s why you’re the mechanic, and I’ll just hand you the tools,” he responds. “Once I figure out what the tools actually are, of course.”
My laughter fades as I stare into Chance’s eyes. The heat of his bare arms on either side of me chases away the cold. His face is so close that I can see the outline of each of his impossibly thick eyelashes.
Heart laid bare and my emotions at an all-time high, I step into him. Chance McLanely might not be a figment of my imagination, but his chiseled features are a work of art so captivating, it’s almost fantasy.
Fingers trembling, I trail a line over his forehead.
Chance sucks in a sharp breath.
I move down the slope of his nose.
His eyes flutter closed and he sighs happily.
I brush across one cheek and then the other.
Trace the angles of his sharp, defined jaw.
Finally, my exploration arrives at his mouth. Soft. Firm.
My own mouth parts on a sigh as I let my touch linger there.
Chance’s eyes flash open. They’re stormy, pupils dilated until the blue bleeds into black. He stares me down ferociously with equal parts craving and hunger.
My heart thumps in my chest.
Heat zings down my spine.
That heat roars to inferno levels when he lifts a hand and grips my chin between his calloused thumb and forefinger. I expect him to drag me closer and ground his lips against mine, but instead, Chance turns my face away with a deep, reluctant groan.
“I’m not going to kiss you, April. Not like this.”
“Why not?” I ask, surprised by the disappointment spinning through me.
His voice escapes on a tortured moan. “Because… I don’t think I can stop at a kiss right now.”
I can’t breathe.
I also can’t see him because he’s turned my face aside. My only view is of the lamp sconce on the bathroom wall. Fighting to turn my head back toward him results in Chance stepping fully away.
“Chance…”
“You keep giving me those eyes and I won’t be able to control myself.” He shakes his head and takes another giant step back. “I’ll call the concierge desk and ask someone to send up a T-shirt.”
Just then, there’s a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Chance says, hurrying into the other room.
I follow, unwilling to let him out of my sight. The view of Chance from behind is just as appealing as the view of him from the front. Ropes of muscle and sinew contract and release as he reaches to open the door.
“Mom?” His voice rings in surprise.
Corinth steps into the room, immediately shifting the energy with her poised stature and sharp eyes. She stares pointedly at Chance’s undressed state before her gaze swings to me in clear accusation.
I blush, despite the fact that Chance didn’t even kiss me. We were both thinking about it though and it seems that Corinth can sense that.
“While you two were entertaining yourselves, several people have been asking about you downstairs.” The word drips with torrid meaning.
Chance doesn’t correct her and I’m not sure she’d listen even if I defended myself.
She hands over a pressed white shirt on a hanger. “I asked my assistant to bring you a shirt. It occurred to me that your father’s may not fit.”
“Thanks.” Chance accepts the shirt and looks back at me. “I’ll change into this quickly. It won’t take me long.”
I nod at him.
“I’ll head back down,” Corinth announces, turning away as if she can’t stand the sight of me.
“Wait.” I stop her when she steps through the door.
Corinth swings her head around, her shrewd gaze making me want to put myself in time-out. I square my shoulders instead and dig deep for courage.
I may not have her money, power, and connections, but I am not inferior to her… even if it feels like it.
“Corinth, I’m not sure what I did to offend you, but I’d like to clear something up. I lo—” My eyelashes flutter as I realize what I was about to say. I amend, “I care deeply about your son. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be with him. After everything we’ve been through, Chance has proven himself to be trustworthy, dependable, and disciplined. I don’t know what your intention was inviting Fina but?—”
“Darling, do you think I have so much time to waste as to sabotage my son’s relationship with you?”
She cackles and I start to feel very, very foolish for thinking I could confront her and win.
“I am not interested in getting to know you, not because of your occupation or your lackluster background. It’s because you won’t be around next year.” She wags a manicured finger. “See, I know how this will end. Your relationship will implode on its own, without any effort from me.”
Her words are sharp enough to cut. Outside, I keep my expression steady but, on the inside, my confidence shakes.
“You see, Miss Brooks,” Corinth’s heels click on the floor as she looms over me, “the mistress you should fear is not another woman.” Her eyes flash knowingly and she offers a prim smile. “It’s hockey.”