2. Pepper
The last words I ever thought I’d want to hear, especially since my life has been controlled by others, starting from when I was a teenager and continuing to my current boyfriend. Who casually forgot to mention he was the president’s son.
But coming from Chase’s throaty growl, it’s almost enticing. For a brief moment, my delirious and tired brain from traveling across the country believes I’m a princess he’s rescuing from a dangerous terrorist—or dragon or mafia lord.
But then I snap out of it.
He doesn’t want me strapped up against his back. I’m a nuisance. A problem he’s stuck dealing with.
Way to go, Pepper.
What was I thinking coming back here?
Of course Hideaway Springs gets the news. And if a nobody like Chase Reeves knows of my expected nuptials to Troy Mayfield, everyone does.
What if they tell him where to find me?
With Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg gone, I have no one to turn to. They were the sweet couple who took me in after my parents died until I was old enough to be on my own. They owned Hideaway Springs Inn and gave me a free room for the few weeks I stayed with them before I left town.
What did I even expect coming back here? A welcome home party?
Thisguy is likely going to drop me at the nearest airport, which would really screw me because I’ve used up most of the cash I had just getting here.
Strands of my hair blow rebelliously in the wind. The air is cooler now that the sun is setting and I wish I’d at least grabbed a jacket before I ran out of the hotel this morning.
I scoff to myself.
This wasn’t exactly my idea of riding off into the sunset on my wedding day.
I was supposed to be on a private plane for my honeymoon. My veil wasn’t supposed to be tucked into my old leather backpack because I forgot it was still on my head when I ran.
As Chase makes his way farther away from town and onto a local highway, I glance back.
“Um…where are we going?”
“What?” he shouts back, his voice muffled through the shield.
“Where are we going?” I shout slower.
He stops at a red light, the engine still vibrating in my ears. He lifts his shield. “Some of us actually work for a living, Pep,” he calls back.
“Work? You’re taking me to work with you?” I shriek.
The engine roars louder. “Doesn’t look like you have much of a choice so sit tight and be quiet.”
“And if I don’t?”
A vibration comes from beneath followed by a deafening roar as the bike lurches forward, bursting into speed. I grip him tighter, screaming.
I gasp, collecting air in my lungs as I do, then quickly drop my shield.
I can feel the rumble in his rock-hard abdomen as he laughs at me. And it angers me.
Okay…it should anger me. But it only makes my skin sizzle. And my stomach bubble. Because goddamn he feels good.
I’m quiet the rest of the way.
I’m also surprisingly calm. As calm as I can be given that just this morning, there were thirty-five people in my bridal room, working on my hair, makeup, dress, and run down of who to talk to, who not to talk to, and who to simply wave and nod to.
And now…I’m on a motorcycle going God knows where with Chase Reeves. The kid I crushed on in the ninth grade but didn’t have the courage to talk to until tenth. And by then it was too late. The cute, goofy athletic boy became almost unapproachable, distant. The loss of his mother took a toll on a lot of people at Hideaway Springs, but it changed him the most.
He”s got a few brothers, but I don’t remember them well. Chase, I remember. Same permanent scowl. Same killer blue eyes.
And I mean killer.
One glance and I felt like I was being sliced open. I think I finally get why romance novels always say piercing. His eyes pierced deep into the core of my being.
Not in a romantic way. But rather, in that “what the hell was that” kind of way that made me turn away.
For about thirty seconds after I turned, my eyes couldn’t blink him out of my head. Like when you look directly at the sun and then blink away, but you still see that round ball of fire.
And that’s exactly what he was. A ball of fire glaring at me. Leaning back in his booth, tight chiseled jaw that worked when we locked eyes. High cheekbones, dirty blond hair, and muscles. God, those glorious muscles, inked from the shoulders down.
This guy is a Taylor Swift song waiting to be written.
The sky turns purple and pink in the clouds and I almost forgot how beautiful it is here, no matter what part of Colorado you are in.
My eyes grow heavy and I’m resigned.
I’m pretty sure there was never a plan to take me back to some empty house with a bed to crash in. I’m pretty sure Aiden Reeves, who I’m not surprised bought Larry and Edna’s Inn, asked his son to take me back to the city—where she belongs.
I realized it a few miles back.
Unless you expect me to believe Chase Reeves actually works in the city.
No, he’s dropping me off and heading back. Besides, who starts work at seven anyway?
I’m so delirious with emotion and exhaustion, I actually give myself a little exit interview.
Well, Pepper Woods. You had quite the adventure today. What will you do next?
I look up almost sleepily at a large building. Denver Kings Arena.
Hmm…maybe I’ll pick up skating again. I answer my inner voice.
The engine stops and I jolt back to the present, blinking. Following him, I remove my helmet.
“You got quiet. Did you fall asleep?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead rather than sparing me a glance.
“Something like that.” I slide off the motorcycle and hand him the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Hang on to it. You’ll need it for the ride back to town.”
“Back to town?”
“You’ve got a place to stay if you still want it. It’s not exactly the Ritz Carlton—but it should do until someone checks out of the Inn.”
I catch my bottom lip with my teeth. “So what, I’m just supposed to hang out here while you drive around a Zamboni or whatever it is you do for work in this building?”
He narrows his eyes, assessing me. Then decides he doesn’t care and shakes his head as he heads for the stairs. “Your choice, Princess.”
I race up behind him, just barely keeping up.
We enter the building through the garage and powerwalk down a freakishly long hallway. “What, they don’t let you use the front door?”
“It’s a shortcut to where I need to be.”
When we round the corner and head down another hallway, two women are walking in the opposite direction. “Hey, Chase.” The tall one with the pointy fingernails waves. She’s in an oversized Denver Kings jersey and short shorts.
I have a feeling Mr. “I’m late” will make time for the blonde, but he surprises me by barely sparing her a glance.
She doesn’t seem fazed by it and smiles at me as she walks by. “Hi, sweetie.”
Chase swivels around. “Hey Tray. Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure thing.” Her voice is so pretty it’s nauseating.
What is wrong with me? I’m not a hater. Get a grip, Pepper.
“Would you mind taking my friend Penny here up to the bleachers till we’re done?”
“It’s Pepper!” I snap. It’s the first time I’ve said my old name out loud and it makes me want to growl. Chase smirks and turns, waving his hand behind him. “Owe you one, Tray.”
The jackass.
“We’ll take care of her.” She says in a tone that sounds like she might just lock me in a closet and forget I’m there.
“Wait. How long is your shift?” This better not be the start of a seven-hour work shift.
He ignores me and keeps stalking down the hall. The girls exchange glances then each toss me a fake smile. “Right this way.”
We slip into the third row after Tracy and Lena—who properly introduced themselves on the way—grab a hot chocolate for me from the vending machine. One I accept because I don’t want to be rude. But a warm beverage that pours out of a machine with God knows what’s happening on the inside? No, thank you. I’ll just hold onto it to keep my fingers warm. And to take sips when they ask me about Chase.
I’m not sure how it happened, but I somehow let them believe we’re dating. I think I must have zoned out when they asked and just nodded. It’s probably for the best since I don’t want to get into how I really ended up on the back of his bike tonight.
I watch the girls lace up for their routine and it reminds me of my cheerleading days. For two straight winters in high school, I dragged the girls to practice on Hideaway Lake when it was frozen. They’d whine about it at first; “It’s too cold” or “what if the ice cracks”, but we all had a pretty fun time out there.
So much fun that I almost forgot I was there to…watch him.
After Chase quit the school hockey team—and basically every other extra-curricular activity—he and a bunch of other outcasts played hockey for fun on the frozen lake. They’d be there nearly every day after school, shooting around a puck until dark.
I couldn’t tell you if the others were any good, because I was only there to watch him. The only time I’d see him happy again after his mother passed. I’d convince myself that practicing on skates was good for our squad to learn balance. But I was not so subtly giving him the chance to come talk to me.
The way I thought he once wanted to.
But he never did. Hell, I don’t think he even glanced over at us across the lake. And if he did, it was probably because we were a distraction to their game.
I spot the coach beneath us and he doesn’t look happy. A new player slides on and the older man checks his watch. Then he does something with his right arm and the team repositions and appears to be starting a new practice.
I’m not quite sure what to expect since I’d never been to a game, much less a professional hockey practice. But other than all the fuss over the one who was late, the guys seem to be having fun out there. The arena is dimly lit, but it’s hard to miss the precision of these players’ movements. It seems so effortless yet so deliberate and strong.
I’m captivated.
This is way better than football. The sound of blades cutting through the ice echoes through the air. It’s non-stop. There’s almost a rhythm to it. I try to follow them all, but my eyes are fixed on the new guy. His strides are long, purposeful, exuding a confidence I don’t quite pick up from any others.
My eyes are trained on number forty-nine, and I can’t look away. His helmet covers his features, but I can sense the determination by the steely set of his jaw and the way his muscles flex beneath his practice jersey. A whistle sounds from the bench and I blink away.
“Ladies. They’re taking a break. Get on the ice.” A strong female voice comes from behind us.
I turn, finding a short brunette in black leggings and an oversized sweater. She’s older than the girls I’m sitting beside, but not by much. Maybe a few years. She’s strikingly beautiful but has that no nonsense aura about her.
The girls push off the bench and stretch leisurely. “It was nice chatting with you, Pepper,” Lena says.
“I’m Lonnie,” the woman introduces herself, stepping down to my row. “You here with one of the Kings?”
“She’s here with the King,” Tracy answers with a gossipy grin.
“Pepper,” I say tentatively, slightly confused by Tracy’s comment.
Lonnie’s brows perk. “The King, huh?” She turns back to the girls. “Go tell the others to warm up.”
They’re off in seconds, rounding up the other pretty girls onto the ice. “You’re the choreographer,” I assess.
“Until they fire me for my big mouth and inappropriate dance moves.”
“Ooh, I’ve got to see this.”
She laughs. “Where you from, Blondie?”
“Hideaway Springs.”
She chuckles again. “Wait, you’re serious? And you’re here with Chase?”
“Am I missing something?”
“I used to date Levi, Chase’s older brother.”
I bite my lower lip, jogging up my memory. “Oh, I remember him. The cute one.”
Lonnie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he’s a pretty boy alright. But he had a kid and that’s not really my thing.”
“So what makes Chase such a big shot around here, anyway?” I look around since I don’t even see him. “Is he like the manager or something?”
Lonnie frowns. “You bustin’ my chops?”
“Your what?”
Another eye roll. Then she leans in and shifts my chin toward the ice. “Number forty-nine, our team captain. Brought home the last two championships, kept us at the top of the charts for three years in a row and the youngest team captain in the league. Aka, ‘the King’.”
“We took care of your date,” Tracy says when she walks me back outside the locker room. Chase is leaning against the wall outside the double doors, scrolling through his phone. He’s in a sweatshirt and holding a red and white bomber jacket that looks very much like the team colors.
Chase sets his leg down and lifts his brow. “My date?”
“That’s what she said. Be a gentleman and take the girl out. It’s the least you could do since she waited for you all night.”
“Right.”
He hands me my helmet as the girls offer me a quick hug—which I awkwardly accept before they disappear in their own locker room across the hall.
Chase pushes the jacket against my ribs. “Ready…date?”
I lift my hands. “Look, you might be some sort of god here, but I’m not carrying your stuff.”
“Jacket’s for you, wiseass.”
“Oh.”
“It dropped about ten degrees outside, and I don’t need you shivering behind me.”
“How sweet,” I deadpan.
“Professional hockey, huh?” I ask as we slip back onto his bike.
“Disappointed?”
“Surprised…but also not.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a long ride back to town. Hang tight and try not to fall asleep again.” His shield goes back on and he waits for me to wrap my arms around him before taking off.
“You do this drive every day?” I ask when we finally pull into town and stop at a red light.
“No.”
“You certainly are a man of few words.”
“Wish I could say the same for you.” The engine revs up again and we’re heading back down a familiar road. It’s quiet, dark. Close to midnight. I’m trying not to fall asleep, but the exhaustion is slowly taking over.
He stops in front of a small cottage. It’s familiar, nestled between a larger home and an open space that looks like it was the start of some groundwork cut short. Something I learned all about living in New York when construction would stop until proper permits were acquired.
The street feels quieter and smaller than I remember—maybe it’s just because I’m used to the big city streets. But also homier. If memory serves me, the bookstore is just down the street. There’s one lamp post on each street and trees line the sidewalks.
Chase fumbles with the keys, reminding me of a realtor who’s never been to a house before as he tries every key on the chain and struggles to get the door open.
Strange. I just saw him whip out pucks without blinking. But give him a set of keys to his own home in the dark and he’s a total klutz.
“Need some help there, hotshot?”
He grumbles but pushes the door open.
It’s pitch black when we step in and it takes a minute for Chase to find the light switch.
But when he finally does, I see why he’s acting like he hasn’t been here in a while. This is not a place lived in. At least not in the last few months. The sofa is covered with plastic. Boxes are piled up on the side of the living room. And there’s a musty scent.
“Sorry, it’s not the Plaza.”
I don’t respond to that. This is not just far from the Plaza Hotel; I could have likely found a motel with better accommodations.
“It’s a cute house.”
He clears his throat. “The bedroom is just down the hall here.”
“The bedroom?”
“It’s a one-bedroom cottage.”
“Oh. Well, I can sleep on the couch. I’m not picky really.”
He smirks as he yanks the plastic off the furniture, and I jump when something lunges out.
“What was that?”
Chase grabs a broom nearby and stabs at the jumpy reptile, guiding it toward the front door before opening it. “It’s a frog.”
“So uh…you said something about a bedroom?” I squeal.
“Through here.” He marches to the hall behind the kitchen and I follow him. My backpack hanging off one shoulder.
“Why does it look like no one’s lived here in months?”
He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. The action making me feel guilty because God, he looks tired. “Because no one has.”
“This…isn’t yours?”
His shifts his gaze away. “It was my brother’s.”
“Did he move?”
“He died,” he says flatly.
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” I glance around uncomfortably. “It must have been fairly recent.”
“Yep.” He pulls down the covers. “The sheets are clean, but I wouldn’t use that top comforter. Also, you might want to let the water run in the bathroom before you use the sink or shower.”
A chill runs down my spine. I feel like a homeless person being offered a hostel. “Why did you bring me here?” I ask, feeling cold and unwelcome.
“You need a place to crash, right? This is the only vacant bed in town.”
I nod. “Right. Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss, I don’t—which one of your brothers—”
“Does it matter?”
What the hell did I ever do to this guy?“What do you mean?”
“You couldn’t tell us apart in high school—even though none of us look anything alike. So what difference does it make if it was Noah, Levi or…Elliot,” he adds quietly and my heart aches.
“Elliot,” I whisper.
He tosses a towel set on the bed for me. “These look new enough.”
I watch him vacantly. “Chase, I know what it’s like to lose someone very close to you. Really, I—”
“Look, I don’t know why you’re here or how long you’re staying and I don’t care. I was asked to bring you here and now I’m leaving. I’ve got a long ride back to the city.”
He marches out of the room before I have a chance to speak.
I race after him, dodging cobwebs in the dark halls. “Wait—you’re not leaving me here alone?”
“What are you afraid of? Another toad? Maybe you should kiss it and put that veil to good use.”
I swallow and wrap my arms around myself. I should say something. But is there a comeback to being caught with your veil in your bag? I remember shutting people out this same way. I didn’t want pity.
I still don’t.
My eyes are getting heavy and I’m likely on the verge of tears out of pure exhaustion.
He brushes his hair back. “It was a joke. Look that was an odd occurrence, okay? Guarantee you there isn’t a toad infestation here. Maybe a spider or two, but I haven’t had a chance to hire anyone to clean it out.”
My eyes shut for a moment as I remember what that was like—and how unfair it was. “Why you?”
“Because he left it to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I croak.
For the first time—well ever, Chase Reeves looks up at me like I’m the only one who gets it.
And I very well may be.
He sighs and moves back to the linen closet, pulling at a thin throw blanket. He then moves to the bed and snatches one of the two pillows.
“I’ll be on the couch. But if you stay here another night, you’re on your own.”