Chapter 17 Wildfire
Wildfire
Her breath hitched as she took him in—the worn Henley that stretched across his broad shoulders, the way his jeans clung to his hips, the hint of scruff along his jaw. He looked effortlessly good, but it was his eyes that got her.
Dark and knowing.
Like he had been waiting for this moment.
Waiting for her.
His lips twitched into a smirk as she approached, that familiar cocky confidence threading into his voice.
"Took you long enough. You're late, Monroe."
Savannah arched a brow. "Excuse me? You're lucky I am here at all." She teased.
Chase pushed off the truck, stepping into her space, so close she could feel the heat of him. "I’ve been waiting for you since the day you left, Savannah. Another ten minutes wouldn’t have made a difference."
Her stomach flipped.
He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers, his grip firm, steady.
"Let’s go," he murmured.
And just like that, Savannah knew.
She wasn’t just walking into another morning.
She was walking straight into him.
Into them.
And she wasn’t turning back.
They drove with the windows down, the summer air thick with salt and warmth, rolling over their skin like a lover’s touch. Savannah let her hand drift outside the window, her fingers slicing through the golden morning light, the breeze carrying the scent of ocean spray and wild jasmine.
Chase sat beside her, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gearshift, his thumb tapping to a rhythm she couldn’t hear.
His profile was sharp in the early light—the strong cut of his jaw, the way the corners of his lips hinted at a smirk, like he knew something she didn’t.
Maybe he did. Maybe he had known all along that no matter how many miles or years stretched between them, she would always find her way back to him.
She stole glances when she thought he wasn’t looking, but Chase had always been good at reading her.
“I can feel you staring,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the road.
Savannah smirked, shifting in her seat. “And if I am?”
His lips twitched. “Then I’ll take that as a good sign.”
She shook her head, but her heart was already slamming against her ribs.
The town was slowly waking up around them—surfers catching the early morning swell, joggers tracing the boardwalk, shopkeepers unlocking their doors. The sounds of life were everywhere, but Chase had something else in mind.
She noticed when he took a turn off the main road, veering away from the bustle of the beach, down a narrow road lined with towering oaks draped in Spanish moss.
The further they drove, the quieter it became, the air growing heavier with the scent of pine and salt, the distant hum of waves softening into something even more peaceful.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her fingers trailing against the seam of her seat.
“You’ll see,” Chase said, casting her a knowing glance before turning down a dirt path.
A few minutes later, he rolled to a stop, and Savannah’s breath hitched.
They were at a secluded inlet, the kind of place only locals knew.
The water stretched out in perfect, glassy blue-green, reflecting the morning sun like a sheet of silk.
The sand was untouched, pristine, as if waiting for them to leave the first footprints of the day.
Gentle waves lapped against the shore, whispering secrets only the sea could hold.
Chase cut the engine and hopped out, grabbing a blanket and a cooler from the back of the truck. Savannah followed, watching as he led her toward the shade of a few ghost trees, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky like something out of a storybook.
“Breakfast by the water,” he said simply, spreading the blanket on the soft sand.
She settled beside him, their knees brushing as he handed her a container filled with fresh fruit, croissants, and cheese. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she took a bite, the buttery pastry melting on her tongue.
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that was full of understanding rather than emptiness. The sound of the ocean filled the spaces between their words, the occasional call of a seabird overhead making the moment feel untouched by time.
Savannah watched as Chase leaned back on his elbows, tilting his face toward the sky, his eyes half-lidded, utterly at ease.
He looked different here—unburdened. Free.
She wanted to bottle up this version of him and keep it for herself.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” she said suddenly, her voice softer than she intended.
Chase’s eyes flicked open, his gaze locking onto hers. A beat passed before he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he turned onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.
“I have always imagined bringing you here.”
Her breath caught.
“Chase—”
“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, his fingers finding hers, twining them together with effortless familiarity. “Just—know that it’s true.”
And she did. She felt it in the way he looked at her, in the way his thumb traced lazy circles against her palm. She felt it even more when he sat up and tugged her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist like she belonged there.
His lips found hers, soft and slow, tasting like salt and longing and years of waiting.
The world faded, narrowing down to just him—the heat of his skin, the press of his fingers at the small of her back, the way his heartbeat thrummed against her own.
They spent the day wrapped up in each other—walking barefoot along the shore, stealing kisses between playful splashes, laughter tangled with the drift of the tide. When he tossed her into the water, she shrieked, kicking up water that hit him square in the chest.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Montgomery,” she warned.
He grinned, wiping water from his face, his wet t-shirt clinging to every defined inch of him. “That so?”
She lunged at him, but he caught her with ease, spinning her in the shallows, their laughter dissolving into something quieter, something heavier, as his hands settled on her waist.
She stilled, her fingers grazing his jaw, her breath catching at the intensity in his gaze.
“You’re dangerous,” she murmured.
His lips curved. “To you?”
She swallowed, nodding.
Chase’s grip on her tightened. “Good.”
As the sun dipped lower, Chase pulled away, his eyes holding a flicker of mischief.
“Give me three minutes,” he said, then disappeared around the bend.
Savannah watched him go, confusion knitting her brows. Moments later, the low rumble of an engine met her ears.
She turned just in time to see Chase pulling up in a boat.
He stepped onto the bow, holding out his hand.
“You coming, Monroe?”
Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t hesitate. She took his hand, letting him pull her onto the boat, the warmth of his palm sending a shiver through her.
He guided them away from the shore, taking them where the inlet stretched wide and seemed endless. The boat rocked gently as he killed the engine, the silence between them thick with something unsaid.
“This is my favorite time of day for this spot,” he admitted, his arm wrapping around her waist.
She tilted her head up at him. “Why?”
His eyes held something deep, something reverent.
“Because it’s yours.” He said softly, as if he was unsure if he should say it.
Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“Turn around and look,” he said.
She did. And what she saw stole the air from her lungs.
There, just beyond the bend, sat the midnight blue house on the hill. The dock where everything had changed.
Her chest tightened.
"Last night, when I told you about the Echoes of Us… this was part of it." His fingers brushed against her cheek. "I told myself if I ever got another chance with you, I’d give you everything you deserve."
She swallowed hard, tears pricking her eyes.
"You deserve the ocean and the shore, Savannah." He kissed her temple. "But this is the best I can do."
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Chase wiped it away with his thumb, his touch achingly tender.
"I think I get it now," she whispered.
He smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.
"I knew you would."
As the sky deepened, she curled into him, the stars blinking awake above them. He pulled out a blanket, wrapping it around both of them as they sat on the bow, watching the sky melt into twilight.
Savannah traced the inked patterns along his forearm, the warmth of his body seeping into hers, the steady rhythm of his breath grounding her in the moment.
"You know," she murmured, "I wish we could stay like this forever."
Chase’s fingers skimmed her jaw, tilting her chin up until their eyes met. "We can."
Her breath hitched at the weight of those words, at the way his gaze darkened with something more, something deeper.
But before she could speak, he kissed her—slow and unhurried, his lips moving over hers with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.
It was something infinitely more dangerous.
It was a promise.
She knew this wasn’t just a rekindled spark.
It was a wildfire.
And she was already burning.