Chapter 19
REESE
The hotel gave us rooms right next to each other.
After hanging my dresses in the closet, I stripped out of my clothes, pulled my hair up in a ponytail, and took a quick shower.
Letting hot water massage my shoulders, I relaxed and thought about how much I’d loved spending the day with Chase.
Working side by side, shopping together, sitting in the car as we drove to our hotel—everything just felt natural.
What didn’t feel natural anymore was pushing the man away from me.
Instead, it felt like I was depriving myself of something that could possibly be really special.
Bill and Melinda Gates had started out working together. He was her boss even.
Michelle Obama was Barack’s mentor at the law firm where they both worked.
Celine Dion married her manager—who was more than twenty-five years older.
Some things worked. Some things didn’t. There were more consequences when things didn’t last and you worked together, but sometimes the possibilities outweighed the consequences.
Possibilities.
When Chase knocked a little while later, I had just finished getting dressed. My hair was up in a messy bun, and I’d traded my sleek black suit in favor of a simple jersey wrap dress with a lively print of greens and blues. My red heels were now open-toe sandals.
His eyes slid over me. “We could skip dinner…”
I shoved at his chest and exited my room without putting on the necklace I was going to wear because I didn’t trust myself to invite him inside while I finished getting ready.
The way Chase looked at me while we waited for the hostess to seat us—his eyes dropping to my cleavage—I don’t think he missed the diamond pendant I hadn’t had a chance to fasten around my neck.
During appetizers, we talked about the focus group and plans for tomorrow before moving on to more intimate conversation. I was mindlessly tracing my finger through the condensation on the base of my wine glass when Chase reached over and traced the scar on my hand.
“It almost looks like a tattoo. Even your scars are beautiful.”
I remembered what I’d noticed on Chase’s body earlier. “Speaking of tattoos…I couldn’t help but see yours this afternoon. Is it your only one?”
Chase leaned back in his chair. “Yes.”
The fact that he didn’t offer more and seemed anxious to move on from the subject made me pry even further. “What does it say? They’re words, right?”
He looked around the room, then lifted his drink and took a healthy gulp. “It says Fear does not stop death. It stops life.”
I waited until his eyes finally settled on me to speak. “Well, I can certainly relate to that.”
We stared at each other. I struggled to find the right words of encouragement to get him to open up as his eyes left mine and went back to my scar. I hadn’t found those words yet when he unexpectedly continued.
“Peyton and I went to high school together. We were friends—didn’t get together until my last semester of college. My life was moving really fast by then. I had patents, office space…I was hiring staff.” He paused. “A year after we graduated, I proposed. She died two days later.”
My heart practically leaped into my throat. There was pain in his voice, and I literally felt tightness in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded and again took a minute before continuing.
“I was pretty screwed up afterward for a long time. It’s why I initially licensed most of my products.
I was drinking heavily and knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do everything it would take to bring new products into the marketplace myself.
Luckily, my lawyers were in the right frame of mind.
They negotiated deals where I got a generous royalty just for letting companies use my patents for a few years.
I kept my research team, so I had something to focus on, but there wasn’t much else I had to do. ”
“Sounds like you did the right thing.”
“Yeah. In hindsight, I did.”
I was dying to ask the question but wasn’t sure what words to use. “How did…your fiancée…I mean…was she…sick?”
He shook his head. “No. She was assaulted. Seven years ago next week. Never caught the guy who did it.”
I reached out and took his hand. “God, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” He paused then said, “It was a rough few years. Even when I began to date again, I don’t know that I was capable of doing anything more than…you know—” He gave me a sexy half smile. “—dating.”
“You mean having sex.”
He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong—I don’t want to sound like a total asshole.
I never led women on. I just wasn’t interested in more than a physical connection.
It wasn’t intentional. At least I don’t think it was.
I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t ready to move on.
Or maybe I just hadn’t met the right person to move on with. ”
“That makes sense.” My stomach was in knots.
It wasn’t lost on me that he’d said he wasn’t ready and he hadn’t met the right person, as if those things were past tense.
He’d made it clear he wanted me physically almost from the beginning—that was never a question in my mind.
I wanted so much to ask if he thought more was possible now, but I was afraid of the answer.
I mean, how do you move on—fall in love with another woman—when you’ve never stopped loving someone else?
When I said nothing, Chase reached over and put his hand on my chin, gently lifting until our eyes met.
“I want more with you. I can’t promise you what that is or where it will go, but it’s more than just physical.
I’m attracted to everything about you—you’re smart, honest, funny, brave, a little nutty—and you make me smile for no reason.
There’s no denying I want you in my bed.
I think you’ve caught on to that part by now.
But I want this, too. I’m tired of looking back.
It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to live in the moment. ”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Thank you for being so honest.”
Just then, the waiter came with our dinner. The air was heavy, and I had no idea how to lighten the mood, yet I felt like we needed it. If there was one thing I knew, it was that talking about sex usually made Chase playful.
I cut a bite of my steak and brought the fork to my lips. “Have you ever played Would You Rather?”
His brows drew down. “When I was a kid.”
“My friend Jules and I play it all the time—usually after a few drinks.”
“Okay…”
I sipped my wine and held his gaze. “Would you rather pay for sex or be paid for sex?”
He cocked a brow. “Be paid. You?”
“I think I’d rather pay for it.”
“I like this game.” Chase leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. “Top or bottom?”
“Bottom.” I paused. “You?”
“Top.” He pointed his fork at me. “See how compatible we are. Lights on or off?”
“On. You?”
“On. So I can watch your face while I sink inside of you.”
Warmth prickled my skin. I gulped. “You’re not supposed to elaborate. You’re only supposed to say your pick.”
“Why would I do that, when giving a more descriptive answer makes your skin turn such a sexy shade of pink?”
We went back and forth like that for the rest of our meal, sharing snippets of both sexy and not-so-sexy preferences. It did what I’d intended it to do—lightened the mood—but it also had desire fighting the voice of reason inside of me.
And, at the moment, desire was kicking reason’s ass.
After dinner, when Chase and I arrived at our adjoining suites, I felt like I was ending a first date in high school.
He took both my hands in his, keeping a few feet between us as he spoke. “Thank you for having dinner with me. And for letting me crash your trip.”
“You were on the plane when I got on. It’s not like I had much of a choice.” I was joking, of course.
“I’m going to take off after the morning focus group, head back to New York on an afternoon flight.”
“You’re leaving? Why?”
“Because I keep pushing, hoping you’ll break. And tonight I realized you need to get there on your own. I’ll be waiting when you do.” He pulled me to him and planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Now go inside before I change my mind and you’re up against the door instead of behind it safely.”
***
I leaned my head against the door for a solid ten minutes once I was inside. After five, I’d heard Chase’s door click open and close, and I wondered if he’d been standing on the other side struggling like I was.
I couldn’t remember ever wanting another man as badly as I wanted Chase.
For a while, I’d thought it was because he was my boss—that exciting feeling of being tempted by the forbidden.
But I knew it was more than that. So much more, it scared the hell out of me.
I’d been using the fact that he was my boss as an excuse to keep distance.
But the truth was, the things I felt around the man terrified me.
I hadn’t exactly been lucky in love. Neither had my parents.
Could I find true love in the shadow of another woman?
I was afraid—and I was also tired of being afraid. That realization made me think of his tattoo.
Fear does not stop death. It stops life.
Eight little words, yet it held the story of both of our lives.
As I took a deep breath, it hit me that I hadn’t turned on the lights in my room yet.
That was totally unusual for me. Ordinarily, I’d have performed my sweep of the room within ten seconds of entering—checking in the closet and shower, looking under the ever-intimidating bed.
Sighing, I forced myself not to look, even though it was now gnawing at me since I’d mentally acknowledged I’d been remiss.
At least there was one fear I wasn’t going to allow to control me tonight.
Lying on the floor of my hotel room in the dark, I felt dizzy from my mind spinning. I kept replaying bits and pieces of the conversations we’d had over the last month in my head.