Chapter Five
A s planned, the following Saturday evening, Lauren took an Uber to the address Chase had texted her, to a building in Manhattan’s Flatiron District, where he lived. After the driver dropped her off, she headed inside the upscale lobby and checked in with the doorman. Chase had already informed him she’d be arriving and he sent her up.
Since the elevator required a key card, the doorman used his. He punched the number for Chase’s floor, and she made the ride up alone, acutely aware of just how wealthy Chase had to be to live in not only this area of the city, but in this condominium. Even the air she breathed smelled like money.
He’d modestly referred to his place as an “apartment”, but as the doors slid open and she stepped directly into a foyer, which in turn led to a spacious living area that flowed into a ridiculously large chef’s kitchen, she recategorized his home as a penthouse . She’d known he was wealthy, but as she took in the massive floor plan and the unfettered view of the Flatiron District, the term filthy rich came to mind.
Lauren set her purse on the coffee table, knowing she was probably gawking, but she found herself awed by the wide-open views of the city and walls of windows that added a sense of space and light. Double doors opened out onto a terrace with potted plants and a sitting area, and while the October evening had a bit of a chill in the air, the lit gas firepit outside promised coziness and warmth.
The interior décor was just as understated as the man himself, painted and furnished in bright whites and grays, with a touch of navy blue here and there, and state-of-the-art finishes throughout. Modern conceptual pieces of artwork hung on the walls, but overall the place was uncluttered and tastefully designed.
“I see you found the place okay,” Chase said, snapping Lauren out of her awestruck moment.
“I did,” she replied, and followed the sound of his voice to the jaw-dropping kitchen, which was equipped with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, including one of those fancy French door refrigerators, a double oven, and an indoor grill. The countertops were a dark gray quartz, matching the obscenely large work island in the room.
And then there was the man himself standing on the other side of the counter, wearing a deep gray Henley and a pair of dark denim jeans—both no doubt designer brands because she couldn’t imagine a man like Chase purchasing anything from a mid-range department store. Her eyes were drawn to the way he’d pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his strong forearms, as he uncorked a bottle of wine, before traveling up to his face. Though his hair was a bit disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through the strands, his jaw was smooth and clean shaven and she caught a hint of his enticing cologne in the air.
She was used to seeing him in expensive tailored suits, but she couldn’t deny that he looked equally hot in this more casual attire. He was always so well put together, exuding confidence and a sense of authority despite what he wore.
In comparison, she felt a bit frumpy in her own choice of clothing. She hadn’t wanted him to think she was trying to dress to impress him, and had opted for comfort over style. She’d chosen her favorite purple and well-worn light sweater top and a pair of soft, faded jeans. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and since she wasn’t much of a makeup girl on the weekends, she’d only used tinted moisturizer, a bit of mascara, and lip gloss.
But the way his gaze darkened as he looked at her caused a seductive heat to swirl in her belly, and her very neglected pussy clenched with that ever-present awareness that simmered between them.
She cleared her throat, and ignoring the warmth suffusing her cheeks, she walked more fully into the kitchen and toward him, inhaling the delicious scent of something savory. “This is an impressive setup,” she said, complimenting his culinary space as she ran a hand over the smooth quartz countertop. “Do you like to cook?”
“Not particularly,” he said in a wry tone as he poured two glasses of the red wine before handing her one. “But my chef enjoys having the space to spread out while he’s cooking and prepping my meals for the week.”
Of course he had a personal chef, she thought as she took a sip of the smooth and flavorful pinot noir. She felt slightly overwhelmed by all his wealth and conveniences compared to how modestly she’d grown up—and even where and how she currently lived. Then again, after reading as many articles as she’d been able to find on Chase Gossard on the internet, she got the impression he was a self-made man and didn’t necessarily have all these luxuries growing up, either. She supposed if she had the money, she’d enjoy the finer things in life, too.
“How about you? Do you enjoy cooking?” he asked, leaning a hip against the counter before shocking her with a rare and sexy grin. “For the sake of getting to know you better, of course.”
“Yes, I love to cook,” she replied, warming to the subject. “I grew up in a small town, where my parents still live, and while there are a few family-owned restaurants, we couldn’t really afford to eat out very often. All our meals were home-cooked and made from scratch, which I can appreciate more as an adult,” she said with a light laugh. “Unfortunately, I don’t get to do that kind of cooking in my tiny apartment, but I do miss baking and making those home-cooked comfort meals that are my favorites.”
“Like what?” he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.
She thought of some of the dinners she’d enjoyed the most. “Like chicken and dumplings, shepherd’s pie, chicken fried steak, and fresh buttered green beans picked right from our very own garden, where we grew most of our fruits and vegetables.”
“Sounds very… Mayberry,” he said, surprising her by using the term coined by an old TV show that referenced an idyllic and picturesque fictional town.
Which wasn’t far from the truth, she mused, complete with busybodies who liked to be in everyone’s business. “What do you know about Mayberry, city boy?”
He shrugged. “My father used to watch reruns of The Andy Griffith Show .”
“So did my gramps, right along with Gunsmoke . I used to love watching those programs with him and wanted to be just like the saloon proprietor Miss Kitty when I grew up, and I was secretly in love with Marshal Dillon,” she said, grinning at the fond, but silly recollection. “Did you watch those shows with your dad?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
Chase’s tone was surprisingly gruff, telling her that it wasn’t a pleasant memory for him. Based on the small bit of information Billie had revealed, Lauren knew his father was a touchy subject. And as much as she wanted to ask about their relationship, the way Chase abruptly turned away to open the double oven to retrieve their dinner told her he probably wasn’t in a sharing mood when it came to his dad.
Instead, she watched him grab some pot holders and remove one of the two casserole dishes from the oven to set on the small dining table adjacent to the kitchen, then he did the same for the smaller, second dish.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said as she joined him at the table, bringing both of their glasses of wine with her. “Marcus made us chicken marsala and risotto.”
Chase had been kind enough to ask her if she had any dietary restrictions, of which she had none, and she loved Italian food. The savory, delectable scent of dinner almost made her groan, but she wasn’t able to hold back the loud growl of her stomach, a reminder that she’d skipped lunch that day.
He chuckled as they each took a seat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’m starved and this looks and smells fantastic,” she said, spreading her napkin on her lap. “My compliments to the chef.”
“I’ll be sure to pass them on to Marcus. He’ll be pleased that he managed to impress you.” He reached for the chicken marsala and added a portion to her plate, then his own, followed by the risotto.
They started in on the meal, and after a few delicious bites, Chase spoke.
“So, tell me what I need to know about your family and what to expect when I meet them,” he said.
She appreciated him initiating the conversation. Talking about her family was an easy enough topic for her to warm up to, and after finishing her bite of chicken, she gave him a quick rundown. “Well, my parents, Dale and Penny, have been happily married for almost thirty-one years, and have lived their entire lives in Fairview, which is a small town about ten miles outside of Springfield, Massachusetts,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her wine before continuing. “I only have one sibling, my sister, Ashley, who is the one getting married.”
He nodded. “And what about your grandparents? Are they still around?”
She’d been expecting him to ask about Ashley being involved with her ex, but he surprised her by not broaching that subject yet. At some point she’d have to give him the details so he understood the situation, but she was grateful to talk about something else while they ate.
“My grandparents on my father’s side have both passed, along with my grandma on my mother’s side. But my gramps is still going strong at eighty-three, though he did just recently have a stroke.”
Chase met her gaze, his own kind and caring. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah, he’s pretty damn tough.” Despite knowing that her gramps was good, she still felt a lump form in her throat that she had to swallow back. “I adore him, honestly. Ever since I was a little girl, we’ve been super close, and growing up I used to spend all my free time on my grandparents’ farm.”
“Your sister, too?” he asked.
She shook her head and cast a glance at Chase, who was still eating his dinner, but his attention was focused on her and what she was telling him. “My sister and I were complete opposites and we didn’t spend much time together. She was the beauty queen and I was the tomboy. She liked frilly dresses, dolls, and tea parties, and I loved fishing with Gramps, riding horses, milking cows, and collecting eggs from the hen house. More times than not, I came home smelling like a farm, with muck all over my clothes, which my sister hated. Ashley grew up in the pageant circuit, always immaculately dressed and perfectly put together, while I went rock climbing and rode my bike through the mud and wore my scrapes and bruises like a badge of honor.”
He chuckled in amusement, which was the last thing she’d expected him to do when she’d just painted a very vivid picture of how different she and her sister were. And how Ashley was clearly the more glamorous of the two of them.
“Damn,” he said, placing his fork on his empty plate. “So, you’ve always been feisty and independent, and basically not giving a shit what others think?”
She secretly loved that’s what he’d taken away from what she’d divulged, and found herself grinning. “Go ahead and add stubborn and determined to the mix, too.”
He smirked. “Oh, yeah, I saw that for myself firsthand.”
It wasn’t a dig or said with criticism, which told her how far they’d come in such a very short time since the evening she’d purchased him at the bachelor auction, then their confrontation in his office. He was so much more relaxed now, and while she sensed that he was still very emotionally guarded, there was no more strain between them, or with their conversation.
She decided to take advantage of that and switched the spotlight onto Chase, eager to learn more about him.
“Okay, your turn to give me the rundown on your family.”
She didn’t miss the way he visibly tensed, or the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he responded in a cool tone. “There’s not much to tell. Both of my parents are gone, and you know that Billie is my half-sister. That’s the extent of my family.”
His reply didn’t invite further discussion, but that didn’t stop her from prying a bit more. “Did you have a close relationship with your parents?”
He laughed bitterly. “No.”
End of conversation , his tone said, but hadn’t they just agreed that she was stubborn and determined? Chase was clearly a man who held his cards close, but Billie had given her enough bits and pieces about this man to pique her interest. He was such an enigma, and she found herself wanting to know everything about him and what had happened in his past to mold him into the man he was today. One who didn’t let other people in, or too close, according to Billie.
She knew what she was about to ask was risky, but she did it anyway. “Earlier, when I asked if you watched The Andy Griffith Show and Gunsmoke with your dad, what did you mean when you said that you didn’t have much of a choice?”
His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened on the stem of his wineglass, as if she’d hit some kind of nerve. He turned his head, and when he met her gaze, there was unmistakable anger glimmering there—at her for prodding, or at the memories she was forcing him to relive, she wasn’t sure.
Finally, he spoke. “Unlike you, I didn’t have a charmed childhood,” he said, and while his words were blunt, his tone wasn’t hurtful or mean, but rather painfully honest. “My mother left my father and me when I was seven years old and ran off with another man. And my father stopped giving a damn about anything after that, including me. He fell into a dark depression. He lost his job and sat in his recliner drinking beer all fucking day long feeling sorry for himself, and yes, he watched those shows over and over and over. That’s all we fucking did.”
With every little bit he revealed, Lauren’s chest ached with sadness and sorrow for the little boy Chase had been. That those awful memories were all he had to look back on. She already knew he wasn’t a demonstrative man after that hug she’d given him in his office, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to climb onto his lap and wrap her arms around him, to tell him that it was okay to be angry that his father had abandoned him, just as much as his mother had. And to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that despite only knowing him a short while, she cared about him.
But she stayed in her seat and she didn’t reach out and touch him, either, like she wanted to do.
After a long moment passed, he exhaled a deep breath and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered, then dropped his hand and met her gaze again, seemingly calmer now. “The last thing I want to do is talk about my parents. As far as your family is concerned, they only need to know that they’ve both died and I have one sibling, Billie.”
“Okay,” she said softly, respecting his wishes.
He abruptly stood up and since they were done with their dinner, he started collecting their plates and silverware. “Why don’t you go out to the terrace and sit by the fire while I clean up the kitchen and put the food away.”
She stood, too. “Can I at least help you clear the table?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve got it, and I could use a few minutes to myself, if you don’t mind.”
There was nothing harsh about the tone of his request, but knowing what a private, reserved man Chase was, she understood his need for space to regain his composure. “Of course.”
He managed a small, appreciative smile. “Marcus made cannolis for dessert. How about I bring you a few with some coffee? I can add Baileys in it, if you’d like?”
“I would love that.” The last thing she’d ever turn down was dessert.
“And then we can talk about your sister, and your ex,” he said, taking the dishes to the sink.
“Now there’s a fun conversation,” she joked, but knew it had to be done. While Chase’s past was clearly off limits, hers was going to be blatantly in their faces for the weekend, and he needed to be prepared.
“By the way,” he said, stopping her before she could walk out to the terrace. “Where are we staying while we’re there?” He grimaced. “Please don’t tell me we’re staying with your parents.”
She laughed. “No, that would be extremely awkward,” she assured him. “I know staying at the house would be my mother’s preference, but once I moved out she made my room into a sewing and crafting area, and my sister Ashley’s room is now where my gramps stays. I’ll make reservations for us at the bed-and-breakfast in town.”
“I’ll pay for it, and any other expenses,” he insisted. “Call Victoria with the information and she’ll get it taken care of.”
Lauren wasn’t going to argue. “Okay. Thank you.”
Even though she really wanted to help Chase with the cleanup, she headed out onto the terrace and sat on the outdoor couch situated around the lit firepit, instead of one of the single chairs. The low flames chased away most of the chill in the October air, but she still grabbed the lightweight blanket draped over a cushion and spread it out over her legs.
She glanced back toward the condo, seeing into the kitchen through the bank of windows. Chase was standing at the island putting the leftovers into containers. There was a slight crease between his brows, but the earlier anger she’d provoked with her question about his father was gone, thank goodness.
At least he wasn’t holding her curiosity against her, and really, for the most part he’d been very pleasant and amiable. Likeable, even, as shocking as that was when she remembered the gruff and grumpy man she’d met at the bachelor auction.
Lauren found herself smiling as she continued to watch Chase as he made two cups of coffee and plated a few cannolis, remembering her conversation with Billie. She’d told the other woman that she wasn’t looking to fix Chase and his issues, and that still held true. However, in that moment Lauren decided she was going to give Billie her other wish, to shake up her brother’s neat and orderly world and get him to loosen up and relax during their time together.
Going home for her sister’s wedding was undoubtedly going to be difficult for various reasons, but why not enjoy her time with Chase, and vice versa? There was no denying their mutual attraction, so there was no reason why they couldn’t indulge in a little no-strings-attached side benefit to their arrangement, right?
She just needed to see if he was game.