Chapter 33 Finding Everything
Finding Everything
Chase decided to take the rest of the week off from work.
It wasn’t something he did often. Hell, he never did it. He had built his life around routine, around discipline—knowing where he needed to be, when he needed to be there, and exactly how much time it would take to get things done.
Structure. Order. Control.
That was who Chase Montgomery was.
At least, it had been.
Until Savannah Monroe walked back into his life.
She was the opposite of predictable. The opposite of safe. And for a man who had spent his entire life making sure things stayed manageable, she was a walking contradiction to everything he thought he wanted.
And yet, he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything.
So for the first time in as long as he could remember, he ignored his responsibilities. Turned off his phone. Told his team to handle shit without him.
And just like that?
He was free.
Free to spend every second chasing her, memorizing the way she laughed, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. Free to kiss her whenever he felt like it, touch her whenever he needed to, hold her for no other reason than because he could.
For once in his life, he wasn’t thinking ahead. Wasn’t calculating, wasn’t planning.
He was just living.
And what he wanted?
Was her.
All of her.
Every damn moment he could steal before she left.
It started with a question.
“Wanna get lost with me?”
Savannah had been sitting cross-legged on his porch, her legs tucked beneath her, the morning air crisp against her skin as she cradled a steaming cup of coffee.
She was wearing his Henley, the sleeves hanging loose past her wrists, and Chase had never seen anything look better on her.
The fabric swallowed her in the most effortless way, and the sight sent something warm curling in his chest.
She glanced up, her gaze lazy, her lips quirking at the edges. “Define lost.”
Chase leaned against the doorframe, grinning in that way that always made her stomach flip. “No maps. No plans. Just us and the road.”
Savannah bit her lip, pretending to consider the offer, even though she already knew her answer.
Because truthfully? She wanted nothing more than to get lost with Chase Montgomery. With a slow stretch, she slid on her sunglasses, the golden morning sun catching the messy waves of her hair as she stood. “Let’s go.”
That was how it started—the adventure neither of them knew they needed.
Some mornings, they flipped a coin at every intersection, letting fate decide whether to turn left or right. Other times, Savannah would pull out a worn road atlas she found in Chase’s glove compartment, close her eyes, and point to a random spot on the map. That was their destination.
Chase loved the unpredictability of it, the thrill of winding down roads they’d never been on before, discovering places they weren’t supposed to find.
Savannah loved the feeling of freedom, the idea that for once in her life, she wasn’t on a timeline—that she didn’t have to be anywhere but here, beside him.
And somehow, in the middle of chasing nothing, they found everything.
One afternoon, they drove until the pavement turned into cobblestone, the streets narrowing into a charming coastal town tucked near a marina.
It was the kind of place that smelled like fresh salt air and old memories, where the locals sat on their porches, watching the world pass by with easy smiles and slow sips of iced tea.
Chase rolled down the windows, letting the warm breeze fill the truck.
“You ever been here?” Savannah asked, watching as a group of kids raced past on their bikes, their laughter echoing against the brick-lined streets.
Chase shook his head. “Nope. But it feels like a place I should’ve been.”
She hummed in agreement, her gaze sweeping across the pastel-colored buildings, the weathered shop signs, the golden retriever lounging outside of a coffee shop like he owned the place. It was quiet, peaceful—the kind of town that felt like it belonged in a novel.
And then, she saw it. An old bookstore, sandwiched between a coffee shop and a fishing supply store. The front windows were filled with towers of hardcovers, their spines faded from the sun, and the hand-painted wooden sign above the door creaked softly in the breeze.
Savannah’s eyes lit up. Chase noticed the way she stilled, the way her fingers reached for the door handle before she even realized she was moving.
“You wanna go in, don’t you?” he smirked, already knowing the answer.
Savannah turned to face him, her grin so wide it made his chest ache. She didn’t even reply before she practically skipped through the door.
Inside, the scent of ink and parchment wrapped around her like a second skin.
The store was small, but in the way that made it feel intimate, the kind of place that held secrets in its pages.
The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, bending slightly under the weight of forgotten stories.
A dusty chandelier hung in the center, its light dim, casting a warm glow over the wooden floorboards.
There was no order to the books—no genre labels, no alphabetized system, just stacks and stacks of stories waiting to be found.
Savannah’s fingers brushed over the spines, whispering their titles under her breath, her lips parting slightly as she soaked in the sheer magic of the place.
Chase? He hadn’t so much as glanced at a book.
He just stood there, leaning against a nearby shelf, watching her.
The way her fingers skimmed the edges of pages like they were something fragile, something worth treasuring.
The way her eyes softened when she found a well-worn paperback, its spine cracked from a hundred lifetimes of love.
She turned toward him, eyes alight with something he couldn’t quite place.
“You know, the guest room on the first floor would make a great study,” she said, her voice filled with quiet excitement.
“The natural light from the bay windows overlooking the sound, the warm oak shelves already built in—I can picture it—rows and rows of books, a little nook under the window to sit and read. God, that would be perfect.”
Chase chuckled, shaking his head. “A library? In my house? I don’t even read.”
She tilted her head, smiling. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right book yet.”
Something about the way she stood there—bathed in the soft glow of dim bookstore lighting, a novel cradled to her chest like something sacred—stirred something in him. He had never seen her like this. So at home. So completely in her element.
“You look like you belong here,” he murmured, the words slipping out quieter than he intended. Savannah stilled, fingers resting on the spine of a novel before she turned to face him fully.
A slow smile spread across her lips, warm and knowing. “Books are my love language.”
Something in Chase’s chest tightened. He stepped forward, closing the space between them, his fingers reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
His touch lingered.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “Good to know,” he said softly.
Savannah swallowed, her pulse hammering in her throat.
She had never had someone memorize her like this.
They stayed in that bookstore for over an hour. Savannah got lost in forgotten paperbacks, poetry collections, and hardcovers with yellowed pages while Chase wandered, picking up the occasional book just to watch her light up when she recognized the title.
At one point, she handed him a leather-bound novel with no cover image, just the title scrawled across the front.
“What’s this?” he asked, flipping through the pages.
“One of my favorites,” she admitted, watching him closely.
Chase smirked. “Are you testing me, Monroe?”
She tilted her head. “Maybe.”
He chuckled, slipping the book under his arm. “Then I guess I should buy it.”
Savannah blinked, surprised. “You’re actually gonna read it?”
Chase shrugged, that easy smirk still on his lips. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”
Her heart skipped. There was something in the way he said it, something that made her forget, just for a moment, that she was leaving soon.
That this—whatever this was—had an expiration date.
Savannah looked at him, this man who had never belonged to anyone.
And suddenly?
She wanted him to belong to her.
They left the bookstore with a small stack of novels and two cups of coffee from the shop next door. Chase drove while Savannah sat in the passenger seat, her bare feet resting on the dashboard, flipping through the pages of her new book.
“You're actually gonna read while I drive?” Chase teased, glancing over.
She smirked, tilting the book just enough for him to see the text. “You should be honored. I don’t let just anyone distract me from my books.”
Chase laughed, reaching over to squeeze her thigh. “I’ll take it.”
And as they drove down the open road, chasing nothing but time, Savannah realized something terrifying.
She wasn’t just getting lost in the adventure.
She was getting lost in him.
And she didn’t want to be found.