Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHASE
“Get off your ass and help,” Elliot barked.
“No can do, brother.” I tipped my beer bottle back and kicked my heels up on my parents’ patio. ‘Today, I am celebrating my achievements as an American worker.”
Jay and Emma Everton celebrated every single fucking holiday on the calendar, but Labor Day was one of their favorites. Dad was a fan of the patriotism, and Mom enjoyed hosting one last hurrah during the warm months out in the backyard of their home on the orchard.
“You’ve been gainfully employed for less than a year.” He slapped at my feet, knocking them off the table. My boots landed on the deck with a loud thud, and my beer sloshed out of the bottle. “Get. Up.”
“Jesus, fine. No need to spill my beer, ya douche canoe.”
“What a colorful insult,” Charlie chirped as she walked by carrying a tray of watermelon slices. I plucked one from the plate and took a big bite, letting the juices run down my chin.
I miss juices running down my chin.
My mind drifted to Elena; it never strayed too far from her, to be honest. I hadn’t held her or kissed her or buried my cock inside her in weeks, and it felt fucking wrong.
I’d had a few glimpses of her around town. She looked good, and from what I’d overheard from Tessa, she was doing good, too.
“Go grab a couple bags of ice from the barn,” Elliot demanded.
“Aye aye, Captain!” I offered my twin a watermelon slice salute and bounded down the porch steps.
On my way to the barn, I passed Tessa, who was setting up Mom’s folding tables in the yard, decorating them with red, white, and blue tablecloths, star confetti, and little centerpieces that looked like glittery plastic fountains.
“Hey, Tess.”
“What’s up, buttercup?” She spun to face me, blonde hair wild.
“Is Elena coming?”
Tessa’s eyebrows bunched, and she shifted on her bare feet.
Her scrutiny made me squirm. I had no clue how much Elena had told her, but given the fact that my balls were still attached to my body and I hadn’t received a stern, “Don’t do drugs,” from any family members lately, I was guessing not much.
“No. She has company this weekend.”
Company? Who the fuck would be visiting her?
I knew from spending months wrapped up in her, safely under the covers in her cottage, that her trusted circle consisted of people with the last name Everton.
Her mother had passed, her father had abandoned her, and she had no siblings.
I guess, technically, she had a husband and his family, but might as well throw me in jail right fucking now if anyone with the last name Stone was visiting her.
I chucked my watermelon rind in a nearby trash can and balled my fists at my side. “Who?”
“It’s not my place to tell you, Chase. She’s had a lot going on lately.
Maybe it’s time you two talked.” She sounded hesitant.
I was, too, if I was being honest with myself.
As much as I missed Elena, I still hadn’t forgiven myself for the way I’d scared her.
The look in her eyes would haunt me. I hadn’t done what she’d asked, either.
“Yeah. Maybe.” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw before patting my sister-in-law on the back and heading toward the barn.
If I was going to face Elena—and find out who was visiting—I was going to need a little bit of a pick-me-up.
Six beers and two bumps later, I was golden. Loose, sharp, and ready to face the girl—to grovel and beg for her to take me back.
I was parked on the street in front of Elena’s little cottage. Flipping the visor down, I checked the damage. Pupils a little wide, but I looked good. No way she could say no to this face.
Breath smelled like the floor of a bar, but whatever. I dug through the glove box and found some ancient gum—cracked like drywall, still minty. Good enough.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a truck pull into her driveway, and my head whipped in that direction so fast I made myself a wee bit dizzy. Shaking my head to steady myself—which had the exact opposite effect—I squinted and watch some big, burly cowboy-looking douche climb out of the F-350.
This was her company?
The plates were from Arizona, so probably a rental, because who the fuck did she know from Arizona? Actually, who the fuck did she know who wore a straight up cowboy hat and boots? Gross.
I watched as Rip Wheeler strolled up to Elena’s porch like he owned the place and knocked.
The door whipped open, and a bright smile lit up my girl’s face.
I winced at the sudden ache in my chest. I hated that this fuckstick had made her smile, that he got to see that smile, and I couldn’t even remember the last time it was for me.
Their lips moved, but I couldn’t make out the words. They looked almost hesitant, standing there chatting on the porch. Then, the unspeakable happened. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Elena. My Elena. And she sank right into the embrace.
“Motherfucker.” I slammed my palm against the steering wheel and glanced back at the house.
Shit. She must have heard me, because our eyes met and held, but I couldn’t decipher the look. God damn it, I hated this shit. Hated this feeling. Hated missing her and wanting her and not knowing what the fuck was going on.
I turned over the engine, threw my truck in drive, and sped off back toward town.