18. Chase
Ifucked up last night.
If Pepper’s cold shoulder has anything to say about the way I treated her merely an hour after tasting her…it’s that I was a dick.
I lost it. It was something equivalent to a temper tantrum when a child doesn’t get what he wants.
And I wanted her.
I couldn’t stop staring at her lips. Or the way they quivered when she was coming. Couldn’t get the luscious scent of her out of my mind. And then, when I put some distance between us—she came out wearing practically nothing and asked me why I wasn’t in bed with her.
A man can only take so much.
I’m in no position to assume what happened in that locker room was an invitation for more…later.
But I want more of her. And if she’s never been given before, then I’ll bet she hasn’t been getting much in bed either.
And that’s just illegal.
Illegal and tempting as fuck to show her what sex could be. With me.
I run a hand down my face to snap out of it.
We’re driving back to Hideaway and she hasn’t said more than four words to me all morning. But it’s more than that.
She’s distant, but almost unintentionally.
“Pepper.”
She turns from the passenger window but doesn’t face me. She just looks ahead, letting me know I have her attention.
“I’m sorry.” It comes out breathier than I planned—but then again, I never plan on apologizing for anything. “I never asked you if you were okay with all of this. Never asked you what you wanted before coming up with this plan to make you an Ice Queen or—my fiancée. When I saw the reward Troy was offering—I took action and didn’t stop to see if you were on board.”
She turns back to the window. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, Pepper. I’m bringing this up because…if you don’t want to be who we’re…covering you up to be until Troy backs off…then we’ll come up with a new plan.”
She looks at me for the first time today. “A new plan?”
I sigh. “Yes. One that you’re comfortable with. Because obviously being in the public eye isn’t wor—”
“You’d do that?”
I let a truck pass me on the left before glancing at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“People tend to give up on me.”
I chuckle. “Are we forgetting Troy in this scenario?”
Her lips quirks, but it’s not wistful, it’s almost bitter. “Except him.”
Her face falls, and I’ve lost her again. She turns to the window. “It won’t happen again.” It’s not a promise she’s making me. The distant look in her eyes tells me it’s one she’s making to herself.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand watching her berate herself for something I put her up to. I reach for her hand, tugging gently until she turns those big brown eyes at me. “Should we bet on it?” I ask with a wink.
A beautiful breathy laugh breaks from her lips, and I’m instantly relieved.
We arrive at the cottage a little after noon. I walk her in with the excuse of checking the place for toads or spiders.
With an eye roll, Pepper pushes the door open. “It’s your house, you don’t need an excuse to come inside.”
“I do. It’s temporarily yours and you’re not obligated to let me in.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Is there a reason you’re suddenly Mr. Respectful?”
With a smirk, I shut the front door behind me and spin her against it, pressing my weight into her. Then I bury my face in her hair—something I’ve been dying to do since last night and draw in a long, lingering breath, enjoying the way her breath hitches under my touch. “Because if I’m not—I might get a little carried away not being respectful.”
She swallows. “Oh.”
I pull back with a grin that likely does nothing to cover my desire to kiss her.
“I’m heading to the Inn in a bit, to check on Dad and see if there’s been any talk in town after your…coming out party.”
A wide grin matching mine spreads her lips. “Will you stop calling it that?”
“It’s what it felt like to me.”
“They were all there for you, Chase—not me.”
“You’re joking, right? Pepper Woods is back in town. No one cares about me.”
“I thought you were the end-all, be all around here.”
“Not really. Here I’m just Chase. The second youngest of the Reeves brothers. The guy with the loud bike and quick wit.”
She shakes her head as she heads to the kitchen. “Well, let me know if he heard anything.”
I take advantage of the moment alone in the living room to look around. Most of the empty boxes I’d brought months ago are now packed and spread evenly against the wall. They’re all sealed except for one.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I ask, moving away from the box.
“Ordering pizza and then cleaning out that coat closet. Or at least it should be a coat closet. It’s stuffed with…all kinds of fun stuff, currently.”
I nod, relieved I don’t have to go through it. Elliot was a sentimental guy—and a hoarder. Because of that, he got a lot of the stuff my brothers and I outgrew but were never quite ready to throw away.
We knew Elliot would hang on to them for us.
Like that stupid telephone.
I walk to the front door, and before I go, I take a peek in the closet she’s about to dissect. A musky scent spills out, and I shut the door. “Might wanna wear a mask before you do that.”
The only thing I caught before I closed the door on the memories glaring me in the face is our old baseball card collection on the top shelf.
The one that was passed down to him from the three of us—it made him happier than any of us had ever seen him. We didn’t have the heart to tell him none of them were really worth anything.
Pepper strides back into the room. She looks from the closet to me, noticing my hesitation. “I’ve got it. You don’t have to—”
“Oh, no, it just smells like something died in there.”
She doesn’t laugh. She watches me thoughtfully. “I’m sorry.”
“For what—I’m sorry you have to go through that.” I move away from the closet and toward the front door. “I can probably still hire someone.”
“No,” she says in horror. “I’m happy to do it. Please don’t hire a stranger.” She opens the closet and takes out a handful of items I can’t even see. Because all I see is her determination floating around this house in infinite waves.
I give her a small nod of a promise and she gives me a quick wave before disappearing down the hall, returning with a spray bottle and cloth. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she picks up a small shadow box, handling it delicately, taking the time to inspect it before giving it a gentle spray and dusting it clean.
I run a hand down my face. “Why?”
Pepper jumps. “Jesus, you scared me. I thought you’d left.”
I step toward her, watching her. “Why are you happy to do it. Why did you agree to this? It’s the last thing anyone wants to do.”
She drops her head, running a thumb gently over a gold medal—not Elliot’s, probably Levi’s or Dad’s. “When I had to do this…eight years ago…I would have given anything for someone else to do this for me—or even with me.” She looks around with mist filling her eyes. “Not all of it. Just some, you know? But we didn’t have anyone. And everything needed to be out by the end of the week and…” She shrugs with a smile. “I was alone.”
I picture Pepper at seventeen. Confused, in a cold empty home, stuffing boxes senselessly, bravely. Probably refusing to shed a tear if she was anything like the woman she is today.
It’s not fair.
It wasn’t fair.
“What kind of pizza did you order?” I ask.
She scrunches her nose. “Anchovies.”
I exhale a laugh. “Great.” I bend my knees and settle next to her on the floor.
“Chase, what are you doing?”
“Pepper, remember when I asked you all those years ago if there’s anything I could do, let me know?”
She nods, pursing her lips.
I point down. “This is what I meant.” I nudge her. “Give me that rag.”
Three hours later, Pepper and I have packed up four boxes. And I’m about to lose my shit. She keeps moving the ‘toss pile’ to the ‘keep pile’.
“Will you stop that?” I finally snap. “What am I going to do with all this crap?”
“It’s important stuff,” she insists.
“Yeah?” I pick up the last item she moved back into keep. “What’s this?”
She blinks at the object. “It’s… probably his piggie bank from when he was little. Can’t throw that out.”
“It’s a can of fish bait, Pepper.”
She jumps back, her palms hitting the floor behind her. “Ew. It’s been here all along? Oh my God, take it outside. Throw it out! Throw it out!”
I laugh. “It’s been empty for years, but it sure smells like Elliot and Dad just used it the other day.”
“Aww. Maybe your dad would want it.”
“Garbage!” I toss it back in the trash pile.
“Fine,” she grumbles.
I push off the floor. “Jesus, are we going to have to go through all these boxes again just to make sure we’re not keeping old fish bait?” I ask, only half joking. I stride over to the open box and pull on the flaps.
“No.” She jumps in front of me, closing them back up. “Promise, everything in there is…keep-worthy.”
I frown down at her. “Like what?”
“Stuff your brother wanted to keep. So we are.”
“Why can’t I look inside?”
“Because I don’t want you throwing it out.”
“I promise I won’t.” Not if it’s important to her.
She steps aside, and I pull the flaps open again. The first thing I see is my old leather keepsake box. Something I used to keep my crap in. I don’t know where any of the stuff in it went, but I gave the box to Elliot for his collectibles, eventually.
I lift the lid and am instantly hit with a familiar scent—several, in fact. Taking me back to blurred moments in my past.
I lift my old jersey and set it aside. My fingers spread across a small deck of my cards—all cased and in perfect condition. Then I lift the one thing I never thought I’d see again.
“What is that?”
I chuckle softly. “It’s…the puck I used to play with on Hideaway Lake in high school. I was throwing it out sometime after graduation because it was so beat up. But Elliot wanted to keep it. He asked me to sign it because I might be famous one day.” I run my finger over the faint signature. “Of course I didn’t have the fancy white and silver pens they used to sign these things so you can barely see it.”
She plucks it from my fingers. “I remember when this would land on our side of the lake when the girls and I were practicing.” She looks up at me. “You were never the one to come get them.”
My expression drops, and I stare at her. For a moment, I think I misunderstand what she’s telling me. But the way she’s looking at me, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, tells me there’s no mistake.
That was a confession.
One I’d never in a million years have known otherwise.
Pressing her lips together, she drops her gaze and hands it back to me. “Don’t throw this out.”
I press it back into her palm. “Will you hold onto that for me?”
She smirks, twisting the puck in her hand. “Okay, but don’t make it a habit of dumping your old junk on me.”
My phone buzzes, and I reach into my back pocket.
Noah:Channel 4 News
I reach for the remote on the sofa and point to the television, then jump to the channel.
It’s an interview.
With the lead anchor of the news network and Troy Mayfield.
Pepper freezes and watches. Troy is sharply dressed as usual. He doesn’t look exhausted or worn down. Or very sad for that matter. In fact, he looks very much camera ready.
“Well, we’re happy to hear that things are coming along in your campaign for mayor. Has there been any news on Ms. Walker?”
Troy’s grin tightens. “The wedding is still on. Penelope just…needed some time to…reconnect with family.”
“Oh, does she have a big family?”
“The biggest, I’m afraid. We were going to go visit them together but—I have to work.”
“Where is her family?”
There’s a beat before he answers. “All over.”
“That’s amazing.” The anchorman chuckles and raises his arms. “How will you ever find her?” he jokes. And we all know why. Because he’s not buying this guy’s bullshit.
There’s no way Pepper is marrying this madman.
I shut the TV off. “He’s still clueless.”
Pepper is staring at a spot on the floor. Her eyes hazy and distant again.
Fuck. This is getting out of hand. “Pepper!”
She blinks up. “Hmm? Yeah. I’m good. Did you say something?”
“I was saying he’s still clueless.”
“Right. Because I don’t have family. Anywhere…much less everywhere.”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to stay compassionate at a time of crisis. Because if I wasn’t before, I’m one hundred percent convinced Mr. Politics is not going away. “I can’t imagine losing both parents at the same time—and not having anyone to—”
“No, you can’t. You would never have that problem. You’d always have someone. Everyone always has someone, but even if you didn’t—your parents wouldn’t do that to you. They’d—” She jerks and blinks, catching herself and starts to pace the living room. “Sorry, never mind.”
“Pepper, sit down. I’m going to call my Dad and just catch up over the phone. Maybe have him deliver something for us later.”
“No! Please, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine. I just need a minute. You should go.” She sits on the far edge of the sofa. The furthest from where I’m standing. Her expression is blank, but I can tell she wants to be alone.
I hesitate at the idea of leaving her right now. But she doesn’t need anyone hovering either. “I won’t be long.”
“No need to rush. And don’t worry, I won’t be alone. I’ll call Charlie,” she assures me, with a smile as fake as a politician.