Chapter 45
The drive home should have been fun after the weekend they had.
It should have been full of teasing and laughter. Chase should have been making fun of her for nearly falling into the lake while trying to push him in, and Aria should have been threatening to leave him stranded at a gas station if he brought up the fish incident one more time.
After the weekend they had, a ride home on a beautiful Sunday afternoon through the countryside should have been another excuse for playful banter. More teasing. More laughter. More of whatever this thing between them had become.
Instead, the cab of the truck sat in uncomfortable silence.
Neither one of them talked much because the kiss had changed something.
Not in a bad way, or at least, she didn't think so, but no matter what she had imagined this drive home looking like, Chase sitting against the passenger side door staring out at the passing scenery like it personally offended him was not it.
At first, he had messed with the radio, flipping through station after station with increasing irritation. Country. Commercials. Talk radio. More commercials.
Ten minutes in, he shut it off with a quiet grumble about hating the radio and preferring a solid playlist.
He had done all of it while very deliberately not looking at her.
Not once.
And despite her best efforts not to feel slighted by it, Aria was beginning to feel hurt by the obvious avoidance.
She pretended not to notice.
She refused to cry... she absolutely refused.
Instead, she focused entirely too hard on the road while the memory of the kiss replayed itself in her head like a scene she couldn't stop revisiting.
She remembered the exact second their lips touched.
The hesitation from him at first.
That terrifying split second where she thought maybe she had made a mistake. Crossed a line neither of them had talked about yet.
She had almost pulled away, already embarrassed, already mentally planning how to pretend the whole thing had never happened.
Then he kissed her back.
And God, he had kissed her back.
I was like he had wanted to do it for a while, like he craved her lips, but was still trying not to scare her.
The brush of his bottom lip against hers had stolen every coherent thought from her head. The way he had kissed her felt cautious and consuming all at once, like he wanted more but was trying very hard not to ask for too much.
That was the problem.
Now every time she looked at him, she remembered it.
The warmth of his hands against the exposed skin of her waist.
The way his shoulders had relaxed afterward.
Beside her, Chase reached for the radio again before immediately shutting it back off.
A few minutes later, he grabbed the bottle of water sitting in the cupholder only to set it back down unopened, fingers tapping absently against his knee afterward like something under his skin wouldn't settle.
He was nervous.
The realization nearly made her laugh and cry at the same time.
Because Chase, steady, confident, annoyingly calm Chase, looked nervous.
And nervous wasn't regret.
Nervous she could handle.
Him regretting kissing her, though?
That would chip away at something fragile inside of her in a way she wasn't sure she was prepared for.
Turning slightly, she glanced over just in time to catch him looking at her.
Really looking.
His mouth opened like he meant to say something, then closed again.
His jaw tightened and, just like that, he turned back toward the window.
Turning slightly, she glanced over just in time to catch him looking at her.
Aria stared at him for a second longer before letting out the quietest sigh imaginable and turning back toward the windshield.
Coward.
And honestly?
So was she.
Because if she was being completely fair, she could have said something too.
She could have brought it up, she could have asked him if the kiss meant anything or if he had hated it or if they were both pretending it never happened because neither one of them knew what to do next.
Instead, she sat there silently spiraling while Tennessee rolled past outside in soft green hills and long stretches of country road.
Chase finally cleared his throat, the sound cracking through the silence of the cab like thunder. Aria startled at it, her head turning quickly toward him, brows pinching together as her gaze flickered between him and the dark road ahead.
"I wanna make myself clear... right now, before we get back to the house."
His voice was rough around the edges, strained. He sucked in a slow breath, holding it for a second before letting it go like the air itself weighed too much. Every inch of him looked wound tight, rigid with nerves.
Aria had no idea what he was about to say, but somewhere deep down, she prayed, selfishly, desperately, that whatever sat heavy on his chest matched the chaos unraveling inside her own.
"When you kissed me..." He paused, swallowing hard.
"Aria... I could never deserve you. I know that.
I know you're better than me in all the ways that matter.
" His jaw tightened as he stared out through the windshield for a beat before finally looking at her again.
"You love with your whole heart. You forgive in ways I don't even understand, and me?
" He huffed out a humorless breath. "Hell, I'm still learnin' how to live with myself. "
His hand came up fast, wiping at his eye before he cleared his throat again, restless fingers flexing against his jeans.
"What I'm tryin', and failin' miserably, to say is..." He shook his head once, like even the words weren't big enough for what sat inside him. "I fuckin' love the hell outta you."
His voice cracked on the confession.
"And when you kissed me..." A disbelieving laugh escaped him, softer now, wrecked around the edges. "God, babe... that felt like heaven."
He turned toward her fully then, emotion burning hot behind his eyes.
"But I don't wanna be your hell."
The words landed heavy.
"So before I ask for another kiss, before I put my hands on you again, before I lose my damn mind wantin' those lips..." He exhaled hard. "I gotta know this is what you want. Really want. Not you givin' me what you think I need. Not you feelin' sorry for me."
His gaze locked onto hers like he was afraid to blink.
"Because I need you..." His voice dropped lower, rougher, honest in a way that sounded painful. "More than a priest needs religion. More than Parker needs somethin' to keep his hands busy. More than a poet needs words." He swallowed hard. "Hell, more than lungs need air."
He leaned back slightly, shaking his head at himself.
"And if you offer me those lips again..." His mouth twitched into something soft and ruined all at once. "Baby, I'll spend the rest of my life kissin' every hurt outta you. If you give me your heart..." His voice nearly broke. "I'll die before I break it again."
He held her gaze, completely undone now.
"But I need the words first, sweetheart." His voice softened into something almost pleading. "Tell me this is what you want too."
Aria had no words.
Only tears.
So many of them that she had to pull off the road before she became a danger to both of them.
The truck rolled to a stop on the shoulder, the silence suddenly deafening except for the shaky sound of her breathing.
The moment they were safely parked, the tears came harder.
She turned toward him, chest heaving, only to find devastation written all over his beautiful face.
Oh God.
He thought she was going to reject him.
Her lips trembled as she tried to steady herself enough to speak.
"I was so scared..." she whispered, voice cracking. "I thought maybe you only kissed me back because you didn't wanna hurt my feelings." Tears slipped faster down her cheeks. "You were so distant the whole drive and I thought maybe... maybe you regretted it."
She never got to finish.
He moved fast.
One second he was staring at her like his world was caving in, and the next he was reaching for her, unbuckling her seatbelt with trembling hands before pulling her across the console and straight into his lap like he couldn't stand another inch between them.
A startled sound left her before she melted into him.
Her legs settled over his hips, arms wrapping around his shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. The scent of him, the warmth of him, the feel of his arms locking around her, it all cracked something open inside her.
The tears came harder then, tears from finally letting go of the sharp, jagged terror she had been carrying since the moment he had hesitated.
His hand moved slowly up and down her back while the other tangled gently in her hair. He let her cry. Let her breathe. Let her have the moment she clearly needed.
Only when her breathing steadied did his hands slide to her hips, giving the gentlest tug.
A silent request.
'Look at me'
Slowly, oh so slowly, she did as he requested, she leaned back to look at him.
His hand came up immediately, rough fingertips impossibly gentle as his pointer finger brushed beneath her jaw while his thumb curled lightly around her chin.
Achingly slow, he guided her closer and closer, until they were breathing only each others air.
Their noses almost brushed and her heart hammered so hard she swore he had to feel it.
He looked up at her then, a slow smile pulling at his lips, something warm and teasing bleeding through all that wrecked emotion.
"Regret the best thing that's ever happened to me?" His thumb swept softly against her skin. "Baby, I'd have to be a damn idiot."
A tiny laugh escaped her through her tears.
His grin widened.
"And sweetheart..." He tilted his head just enough to brush the tip of his nose against hers. "You married a genius."
That did it.
A laugh broke free from her, shaky and tear soaked and full of something that finally felt like hope.
And this time, when their lips met, neither of them hesitated.
The truck eventually slowed as Aria turned down the familiar gravel drive, tires crunching beneath them while the late afternoon sun stretched warm and golden across the yard.
And immediately, she smirked.
Because there, parked crooked in the driveway like it had absolutely no intention of leaving anytime soon, sat an older lifted GMC Sierra.
Black. Restored. Ridiculously polished.
The kind of truck that looked like somebody had dumped an embarrassing amount of money into bringing it back to life with it's oversized tires, gleaming chrome, paint so clean it practically reflected the sky.
It had no business looking that cool for something old enough to belong in somebody's granddad's driveway.
Yet somehow, Parker had managed it.
The driver's side door hung wide open while two booted feet rested lazily through the open window, ankles crossed.
Echo's dog bed sat shoved toward the back window beside what looked suspiciously like an abandoned gas station coffee cup.
And sprawled across the tan bench seat like a man who had completely made himself at home was Parker.
Fast asleep, or pretending to be.
His Calhoun Construction work shirt still clung to him, sleeves shoved halfway up tattooed forearms dusted faintly with dirt and sawdust. One hand rested over his stomach while the other lay above his head. A baseball cap covered most of his face.
He looked exactly like somebody who had worked ten hours, ignored basic self care, and then decided Aria's driveway qualified as a perfectly reasonable place to nap.
Aria groaned.
"Oh no."
Movement stirred in the truck bed.
Echo lifted his head.
The retired Belgian Malinois blinked once before his ears immediately perked the second he spotted her. Even half asleep, military dogs apparently never fully powered down.
Dark eyes locked onto her like he had personally been waiting for her return all weekend.
But the excited wiggle of his entire backside ruined any intimidation factor.
His tail immediately started thumping against the truck bed.
"Traitor," Aria muttered, already climbing out of the truck.
At the sound of her voice, Echo barked again, louder, and inside the Sierra, Parker stirred.
Slowly almost dramatically, he lifted the brim of his baseball cap just enough to squint toward them through the open doorway.
One second passed then two, finally recognition hit.
Then a slow smirk spread across his face.
It was a dangerous look for Parker to have because it showed he was entirely too entertained.
"Well," he drawled, voice rough with sleep as he pushed himself upright against the bench seat. "Look who finally decided to come home."
Aria immediately started walking past him.
"Nope."
Chase snorted beside her.
"Sweetheart..."
"No," she said quickly, pointing accusingly toward Parker. "Whatever this is? I am not participating."
Parker's grin widened.
"Oh, c'mon now." He climbed from the truck, boots hitting the gravel as he stretched slow and easy like a man who had absolutely planned this ambush. "I just wanna hear about y'all's romantic little weekend."
Aria groaned so hard it bordered on physical pain.
"Oh my God, I hate you."
"You love me."
Echo barked immediately like agreement.
Aria whipped around and pointed at the dog.
"You too. Traitor."
Echo wagged harder.
Meanwhile, Chase had gone strangely quiet beside her.
Then, to everyone's surprise, he laughed.
Not the polite, guarded version she'd gotten used to.
A real laugh that was all warm, easy and full bodied.
The kind that came from somewhere deep.
Parker's brows lifted slowly.
Well, that was new.
Hope filled all the hollow places inside Aria's chest as she stood there, looking between this lighter, freer version of Chase and the now visibly stunned Parker.
For the first time since Chase had come home, he was himself again.
The laughter slowly faded from Chase's face, but the warmth stayed.
Then he really looked at Parker, not glanced and not looked through him the way he had for months. No, this time he actually looked at him.
And Aria felt her chest tighten, because that look, that familiar, protective affection, the one that always reminded her of an older brother watching over somebody he loved...
It was back.
She hadn't seen it since his return.
Not really, not in the way Chase used to look at Parker when they were inseparable. When Parker had been his person, his best friend... his brother in every way that mattered.
A slow grin tugged at Chase's mouth.
"You really never change, do you?" he teased, voice rough but warm.
Parker barked out a laugh, already halfway through shrugging off the comment when something in him suddenly froze.
His expression shifted fast, like his brain had finally caught up to what his heart already knew.
He stared, really stared at Chase's face and at the expression.
At the life finally back in his eyes, the teasing disappeared from Parker's face so quickly it almost hurt to watch.
A tear slipped free from his left eye.
He didn't wipe it away, he didn't even seem to notice it because he looked almost afraid to blink.
Like if he did, this version of Chase might disappear again.
"It's damn good to finally have you back, brother," Parker said quietly, voice rough around the edges.
Then he closed the distance between them his arms opened without hesitation.
And Chase, Chase stepped into the hug.
He wrapped his arms around Parker, giving his back a couple gentle taps with his fist in that quiet, familiar way men who loved each other without saying it too often always seemed to do.
Aria swallowed hard.
Turning, she went inside giving them men some time to talk and reconnect.
After a few minutes of catching up, most of it made up of half finished stories, sarcasm, and Parker acting personally offended Chase had apparently enjoyed an entire weekend without him, Parker suddenly remembered his original mission.
His eyes narrowed.
Slowly.
Suspiciously.
"Well?" he asked, crossing his arms. "How was the lovebirds' romantic little lake weekend?"
Chase just raised a brow.
Then tilted his head slightly, lips twitching in the universal expression of a man who absolutely kissed and was never, ever telling.
Parker gasped dramatically.
"Oh hell no." He pointed between at Chase. "That look right there? Somethin' happened."
"Parker." Chase said, "Mind your own damn business."
"What?" he said innocently. "I'm invested now."
Chase huffed out a laugh before shaking his head.
"Speakin' of that..." His expression shifted, turning more genuine as he looked at Parker. "Thanks for pullin' those strings, man."
Parker's mouth curved immediately.
That dangerous, slick grin appeared, the one that usually meant he had either charmed somebody, manipulated somebody, or somehow managed to do both at the same time.
"Yeah, well," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal, "that was a hell of a favor to call in."
He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
"Now I owe the County Commission a gazebo at that same park." He sighed dramatically before grinning wider. "Crazy thing is, I've been tryin' to get zoning approval to build that exact gazebo for months."
He paused.
"Funny how life works out, ain't it?"
Chase blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "You manipulated the local government?"
Parker looked offended. "I prefer the term strategically persuasive."
Chase barked out a laugh.
"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. "Glad we could help."
Parker waved a dismissive hand.
"Think nothin' of it." Then he paused. "Actually, think highly of it. I saved your romantic weekend and secured the park's future property value."
Chase laughed again.
And this time, Parker smiled softer.
Because there it was again.
The sound he had spent years missing.