Chapter 14 Sound of Us
Sound of Us
Mallory wanted to shop, and Savannah just wanted to walk around; at least that's what she told Mallory.
Knowing that she was having Chase come pick her up in town, Savannah played it cool, but her heart pounded a little faster each time she checked her phone for the time.
The anticipation was a slow burn, creeping into her bones with every glance at the clock, every brush of the warm evening breeze against her skin.
As the sun dipped low, Chase arrived, his truck rolling to a stop beside her.
The sight of him, backlit by the golden hues of the setting sun, made her stomach flip.
The moment she slid into the passenger seat, she felt it—that slow burn of something unspoken between them.
The scent of leather and cedar filled the cab, mingling with something uniquely him.
They drove in silence at first, the kind that wasn’t awkward, just charged.
Every glance out the window, every shift in his grip on the steering wheel, every breath felt weighted, like they were on the edge of something monumental.
The winding road stretched before them, shadowed by towering pines and tangled branches that wove a canopy overhead.
The golden light of dusk filtered through the trees, casting long, fleeting shadows.
Then, the road shifted, turning into a gravel drive that seemed to go on forever, curving through dense woodland until the trees parted like a grand reveal.
Her breath caught.
The house stood against the dusk like something out of a dream.
Midnight blue, two stories, its honey-oak stained shutters framing each window like a picture.
The porch wrapped around the entire structure, stately columns standing tall beneath the soft glow of lanterns that flickered in the settling twilight.
The matching colored door, strong and sure, was a stark contrast to the warmth spilling from inside.
It wasn’t just a house—it was a home. His home.
She turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is your house?”
Chase smirked, his fingers drumming casually against the steering wheel. “Yes ma'am. It is.”
Savannah swallowed, the weight of that admission settling over her. This wasn’t the Chase she remembered—wild and untamed. This was something different. Something steadier. Something she wasn’t sure how to define.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, a mix of anticipation and nervous energy curling in her stomach.
As the truck came to a stop, he turned, his eyes locked on hers, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m cooking dinner for you.”
A flutter of surprise rippled through her.
“If that’s okay with you,” he added, his voice softer now. “We’ll eat out by the dock.”
Her heart did a strange little flip, her pulse quickening.
Inside, his home was just as breathtaking—vaulted ceilings, exposed wooden beams, and warm lighting that cast everything in a golden glow, and it’s only the kitchen.
It was masculine but inviting, like him.
She watched as he moved effortlessly through the space, rolling up his sleeves, pouring them each a glass of wine.
His movements were confident, sure, like this was just another ordinary evening. But nothing about this felt ordinary.
“You cook now?” she teased, trying to lighten the air between them.
He glanced at her, amused. “I always have.”
“That’s debatable.” She mocked.
He handed her a glass, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smirk. “Sit tight. Let me impress you.”
She asked if she could help, his response was calm and demanding. “No, just sit there—look beautiful, and talk to me.”
Her brows raised. “Well damn,” she thought, heat curling low in her stomach.
“Can I at least know what you’re cooking?”
Turns out, it was—Seared salmon, perfectly seasoned, a lemon-dill sauce that melted over the top. Roasted vegetables, crisp and golden, and a risotto so creamy it was almost sinful.
Once dinner was finished, Chase plated the food and asked her to grab the wine and join him out by the dock. As he pushed open the screen door, Savannah followed—only then realizing that his house sat right on the sound. The sight took her breath away.
The water stretched endlessly beyond the backyard, calm and shimmering under the last light of dusk, reflecting the sky like melted gold.
A dock jutted out over the glassy surface, and at its edge, beneath a pergola wrapped in soft, flickering lanterns, a table was set for two.
It was intimate, secluded, like something out of a dream.
As they sat, the sound lapped gently beneath them, the air thick with something unspoken, something more than just shared history.
The conversation started light—old memories, laughter that came easy. But then, somewhere between the lingering glances and the glow of the lanterns, it deepened.
They spoke of the past. Of regrets. Of the people who had come before.
“I didn’t treat them right,” Chase admitted, his voice quieter now, laced with something raw. “The women I dated. I was always looking for something that wasn’t there.”
Savannah studied him, noting the weight in his words, the honesty in his expression. “Something you could never find,” she murmured.
His eyes met hers, holding them. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Her chest tightened—because she knew exactly what he meant.
After a moment, she asked softly, “Why haven’t you settled down, Montgomery?”
Chase exhaled, setting his wine glass down before reaching for her hand.
There was confusion in her gaze, but she didn’t pull away as he guided her toward the fire pit at the end of the dock, where chairs circled around a bed of unlit wood.
He pulled one out for her before striking a match, the fire flickering to life between them.
Then he asked, “Are you ready to know?”
Something in his tone made her pulse quicken. “Yes,” she whispered.
He took a breath. “People don’t see this side of me, Savy. What I’m about to tell you—it’s probably the most reckless thing I’ve ever said.”
Her heart skipped at the name. She hadn’t heard him call her that in years.
“Close your eyes,” he said gently.
She did.
“Listen to the wind—the way it brushes against your skin,” he continued.
“Listen to the water drifting to shore. The way the seagrass rustles in the salt air. Now—listen to your heart. The rhythm of it. The way it moves with the tide.” A pause.
Then, his voice softer now—“This is my second favorite place in the world. Do you hear it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “It’s beautiful.” When she opened them, she found him watching her. “But—what makes it your favorite place?”
Chase’s expression shifted—something deeper, something unguarded. He inhaled slowly, then said, “Savannah, this place—this dock—it’s the echoes of us.”
Her breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
He looked out at the water for a long moment before answering. “Because of me—you, it's the Echoes of Us.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
“No matter how breathtaking this place is… it will always be my second favorite.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“My first?" A brief pause, "Well, my favorite place is wherever you are.”
Savannah inhaled sharply, her heart pounding. Because for the first time in years, she realized—he wasn’t just the echoes of her past.
He was the promise of something more.
Something worth taking a chance on.
Savannah tried to steady her breath, but it was impossible with Chase so close, his forehead still resting against hers, his fingers still tracing the edge of her jaw like he was memorizing her. Every touch sent a shiver through her, every breath between them thick with tension.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
And yet… it was inevitable.
She swallowed hard, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Chase—”
His name was a warning. A plea. A whisper of something both fragile and unbreakable.
But he just smirked, like he knew exactly how this would play out. Like he knew she was already his, whether she admitted it or not.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he murmured, running his thumb over her cheek, his voice soft but weighted with something dangerous, something consuming. “Why haven’t you settled down?”
Savannah exhaled, looking past him, out at the water. Because the truth—the real truth—was something she had never spoken out loud.
Not to Trevor. Not to herself. Not to anyone.
“I stayed with Trevor because he was good to me,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because he was easy.”
Chase’s jaw tensed. His fingers flexed against her skin, his body coiled like he was holding himself back. “And I was never easy.”
She looked back at him then, eyes locking, something raw twisting between them, something that had never faded.
“No,” she admitted, her voice uneven. “You weren’t.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, laced with all the things they had never said. It pressed against her ribs, settled in the spaces between every heartbeat, every inhale, every stolen moment they had let slip through their fingers.
Then Chase leaned in, his voice so quiet, so certain, it sent a shiver down her spine, "But I was yours.”
Her breath caught.
Her fingers curled around the stem of her glass, gripping tighter as the moment expanded, as the air crackled between them.
"You still are." She said softly.
The words hovered in the space between them, unspoken but deafening.
And then—before she could stop it, before she could convince herself this was a mistake—his lips were on hers. It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t cautious. It was everything unsaid, everything missed, everything they had both been too stubborn to admit.
Savannah gasped against his mouth, and Chase took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her jawline. It sent a shiver through her, the kind that made her press closer, needing more. Wanting everything.
She had kissed other men. She had thought she knew passion, had thought she understood what it felt like to be wanted.
She had been wrong.
Because this kiss—this—was something else entirely.
His lips moved against hers with purpose, with heat, with years of restraint breaking apart like waves crashing against the shore.
He tasted like wine and fire, like something forbidden and fated all at once.
His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer, deepening the kiss until there was nothing left between them but raw need.
By the time they broke apart, breathless and dizzy, Chase rested his forehead against hers, his smirk lazy and confident, his fingers still tangled in her hair, his other hand gripping her waist like he wasn’t ready to let go. Like he never wanted to let go.
“That,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, his voice rough with want, “was definitely worth the wait.”
Savannah exhaled shakily, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Chase, I—”
She stopped, her throat tightening, the words pressing against her tongue, desperate to escape.
But how did she say it? How did she tell him that he had been right all along?
That no matter how far she ran, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, she had always belonged to him?
Chase’s fingers tightened around hers, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes—they saw straight through her. They always had.
“Say it,” he whispered. Not a demand. Not a plea. Just a quiet, steady invitation.
She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering to where their hands were intertwined, where his thumb brushed slow, lazy circles against her skin like he had all the time in the world to wait for her to be brave.
She had spent years convincing herself she had made the right choice. That choosing Trevor, choosing stability, choosing the easy path had been the only way to keep herself safe.
But Chase Montgomery was never safe.
He was wild oceans and crashing waves. He was lightning in the middle of a summer storm. He was everything that made her heart race and her soul ache.
And standing here now, in the glow of the fire, his warmth wrapping around her like the tide, she realized something.
She didn’t want safe anymore.
She wanted him.
She took a breath, steadied herself, and finally—finally—let the truth fall from her lips.
“I never settled down because no one was ever you.”
The second the words were out, she felt Chase’s breath hitch. His fingers tensed against hers, like he was holding himself back, like he needed to be sure she meant it.
But Savannah didn’t look away. Didn’t run. Didn’t hide.
“I never chose you, Chase,” she whispered, emotion thick in her throat, “because if I did, there would be no going back. You were never just someone I could love and then walk away from. You were… everything. And that scared the hell out of me.”
Chase exhaled sharply, his grip tightening as he took a half step closer, his presence overwhelming, consuming.
“And now?” he asked, his voice rough, low, edged with something dangerous.
Savannah’s heart pounded, but for the first time in years, she wasn’t afraid of it.
She lifted her chin, met his gaze head-on, and gave him the only answer that had ever been true.
“Now—I’m ready to take the chance.”
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. “Are you?”
She let out a breathy laugh. “I am.”
That was all he needed.
Because in the next second, Chase pulled her against him, crashing his lips to hers in a way that told her—no more running, no more regrets, no more what-ifs.
This time, she was his.
And this time, she wasn’t letting go.