Chapter 18 Pippa #2
Remembering that I, too, have a job to do, I stride down the hall.
It’s time I let my old beliefs go and give myself more credit.
I don’t need my mother to play matchmaker and I don’t need my old crush either.
Just some coaching and I’ll be well on my way to happily ever after.
I can have a purely business relationship with Chase.
Despite everything from high school, he seems to be an otherwise good guy.
And a good-looking one as he emerges from the Blancbourg salon.
My new mantra echoes in my mind and I bring it to my lips. “I won’t let Chase work his charms on me.”
He distracts me when his dimple pops because, yeah, he definitely heard me break my filter rule. I walk straight into a vacuum cleaner, stubbing my toe in these open-toed leopard print heels. I knew they were a mistake.
Rubbing my foot, I hop on the other and the strap of my handbag catches on the handle, snapping me backward.
I somehow get tangled in the power cord.
As I flail to get free, I work my way under a long table positioned beneath a painting of a very poised princess.
It’s an unintentional but providential hideout.
“I should just stay here.”
Chase rushes to help, but I need to retain the last shreds of my dignity and get up by myself. I wave him off and as I move, the still-tangled cord jolts the vacuum forward and the handle whacks me hard in the lip.
Pain and liquid gather in my mouth. I’m terrified I chipped my newly repaired tooth.
“Pippa, are you okay?”
I nod and shake my head because I’m not sure if I’m okay.
“Is there a first aid kit nearby? Ice?” he asks, taking charge.
I point back the way I came toward the teacher’s lounge.
There’s definitely blood and it definitely hurts, but I refuse to open my mouth until I’m certain my tooth is intact.
“We’ll get this taken care of, not to worry,” Chase says soothingly.
When we enter the room, Everly startles as if caught doing something naughty. Looking at photos of her Viking beast, perhaps? She hides her phone and blinks a few times. “Oh, this is Chase Collins? I’d only recognize him from the back. I mean—”
I nod because yeah, I know what she meant. It’s impossible not to notice his assets. Everything about him is quite buff and brawny.
Then she spots me with my hand covering my mouth.
“Ice?” Chase answers his own question and gets some from the freezer.
“What happened?” Everly asks.
I try to explain using gestures and speaking without opening my mouth, but Chase hushes me.
“Pippa stumbled and I think she bit her lip.”
And not in an adorable or provocative kind of way.
Like I took a big chomp out of it as I did with my chicken sandwich.
Then I remember Chompy the Swamp King and die a little inside, because with the way this day is going, I’ll wake up next to him in the middle of the night—and I’ll be missing a toe.
Chase finds the first aid kit and digs through it until he finds what he’s looking for. Even though it pains me to do so, I rub my tongue over my teeth. Everything feels like it’s in the right place...except there’s blood and a bump—not exactly what I’d call attractive.
The grandfather clock chimes, followed by a loud bang.
“Sounds like the beast is awake. I mean Grey. Your teammate. Sorry, that wasn’t very proper.” Everly wrings her hands.
“Was he napping?” I ask, hoping she can decipher because it sounds more like uz ee apping?
“Said jet lag was getting to him,” Everly answers.
In a low voice, Chase says, “Don’t leave him alone.”
“Is he a danger to children? Private property?” Everly asks, alarmed.
“No, he,” Chase waves his hand around his head, “he can get lost in the clouds.”
“What clouds?”
“The dreary, rainy ones. The guy needs some sunshine in his life.”
Everly taps the air with her pointer finger. “And that really is my cue to go. Hope your lip is okay,” Everly calls as she rushes from the lounge.
Chase turns to me with a tilt of his head, his lips soft and poofy like he’s asking himself what he’s ever going to do with me.
“A vacuum, really?”
“In my defense, it wasn’t supposed to be there. Cate has had to let employees go and the new ones don’t always know how things are run around here.”
He lets out a long sigh and starts to peel my hand away from my mouth. “Only you, Pippa. Only you.”
His gaze flickers as it hovers on my lips, then lifts to meet mine. I almost sense a crackling between us, then realize at this rate, I’m likely to start a fire without a match, so I look away.
But that doesn’t stop the warmth from kindling in my belly, waking up the heart fluffies and sending a zing through me.
“I can do it.” I cover my mouth so he can’t see the damage.
“Remember, I’m a professional.”
“A doctor?”
“A football player. I’ve seen my share of fat lips.”
“Is it fat?” I ask, aghast.
“I don’t know. You won’t let me see.”
I drop my hand and have the distinct sensation that my lower lip is more than bee-stung.
“Okay, what do we have here?” His voice is low, rougher than that of a professional.
I suck in a breath as he shifts toward my mouth to get a good look.
Forgetting about my bloody wound, up close, I can’t help but think about how he was irrefutably cute in high school but filled out into a strongly built super-stud that makes my knees weak—thankfully, I’m sitting down—and my skin flush.
He dabs my lip with cold liquid on a cotton ball.
It stings slightly, but what’s got me is his proximity. His strong presence—same as during dinner and dancing at the Smythe’s soiree. I did everything I could to keep from bumping into him while we ate. To keep my distance from him while we danced.
But it was as losing a battle then as it is now.
I wave my hand in front of my face. “Is it getting hot in here?”
He flashes his flirty, cocky, dimpled smile as though he knows the effect he’s having on me.
I go still and focus my gaze on an impressionist painting of a lumpy old man in a waistcoat on the wall behind Chase.
But his scent fills up my nose with soap and man and something I’m so close to identifying, I can almost taste it.
But that doesn’t do the trick.
I’m deeply aware of how close Chase is to my mouth. His lips are just the right size—not too big. Not too small. Just right for kissing. Thankfully, I didn’t say that out loud.
Satisfied that my lip is clean and sterilized, Chase rifles through the med kit. His expression has turned to focused care.
Of me.
His hand cups my jaw as he angles my mouth exactly where he wants it. Then he fusses with something and his fingers brush my chin, my cheek, and my upper lip as he tends to the lower.
My heart takes off at a gallop, running willy-nilly around the room, out the door, and down the hall. I want to warn it about the vacuum. How did I manage to get through the dance when Chase held my hand? The answer comes quickly and in three parts.
1. Our meeting was a surprise. A shock. I never expected to see him again in real life. (Watching football games doesn’t count.)
2. I was wrapped up in fantasies the night before and not aware of the fact that I would be his coach.
3. Now, we’re forced to be together for an entire month. There’ll be no avoiding him or my feelings.
“Okay, all stitched up.”
“Stitches?”
“No. It’s a special kind of bandage. Just don’t get into any fights with vacuum cleaners or me.” He throws a few punches in the air.
“You’re a football player, not a boxer.”
“It’s a gladiator sport, remember? I’ve had more fat lips, split lips, bruised lips...”
A flock of heart fluffies thunders through me. “Can you please stop talking about your lips?”
His lips twist like he’s holding back a chuckle, confirming he’s well aware of the effect he has on me. “What these lips?” He points.
“Nope, my luck hasn’t changed, but I won’t let you work your charms on me.”
“My charms? My lucky charms?” He laughs. “Oh, Pippa, if that’s where we’re at, then you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Forget rules. I need a set of governing laws, otherwise, I don’t stand a chance.