Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
CHASE
T his time, when I woke up with Violet in my arms, the morning sun streamed through thin spaces between the wooden slats of the old barn. The heavy woolen blanket underneath us formed a snug base. The luxury of the shearling blanket around us added extra comfort. Cozier than both was the sublime joy of holding her.
Her cheek was against my bare chest. Her mop of ginger hair was a mess of soft curls that obscured her face, but her shoulder peeked out from beneath the blanket. My impulse to run my fingers over it, to revel in its smoothness again, sent me back to the night before—back to my hands touching her in places I’d always wanted to, and my lips taking their time.
Being with Violet, even without being with her, had surpassed my wildest fantasies. She had awakened sensations I hadn’t known were dormant—things I didn’t even know I could feel—not just in my body but in my very being. Her touch and every sound she made, every movement of her body against mine, swelled powerful forces inside of me, like hot magma beginning to stir. Even now, they were still swirling, in some ways more powerful than they’d been the night before.
Thoughts of how good it had been made me want to wake her up, to take in her lovely face by the light of dawn, to pick up where we had left off last night. It was morning, and every part of me was awake. But there was perfection in how we fit together, in how well her body molded to mine, in the peace of her warm breath.
Something started buzzing from somewhere beneath the hay. It could only be my phone. Last night, Violet hadn’t worn anything but her dress. I reached out with the arm she wasn’t tucked under and held to my side and pawed around for the device.
Seconds before I located it, the incessant buzzing stopped. I’d taken it for a phone call, probably Cody, given the early hour. If something was up on the farm, he would try to reach me like this.
But the screen of my phone soon told me otherwise. It was not a missed call from him. It wasn’t a call at all, but a series of texts from Forrest.
I got a call from Washington.
Monica applied pressure to the bosses of one of our POIs and we’ve got a meeting this morning.
We’ve got to get on a plane.
My attention shot to the top right corner of my phone and I searched for the time. It was 5:43 a.m. The fact that I wasn’t left-handed slowed down my ability to return the obvious question.
Can’t it wait a day?
Forrest’s responses were rapid.
The guy we need to interview is about to be deployed.
If we wait a day, he’ll be on a submarine.
“Shit,” I whispered aloud.
I tossed the phone down on the hay pile next to me and let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing my eyes shut as if doing so would allow me to tune out what I had just read. I wished for the peace of five minutes ago. The last thing I wanted right now was to leave this woman.
My phone buzzed again and I read the text. Forrest had sent flight numbers for an itinerary that was leaving in less than three hours. Knoxville to Dallas Fort Worth; DFW to San Francisco. He would pick me up in twenty.
I put down my phone a final time, bargaining with myself over how much longer I could hold her. But me fussing with my phone must have caused her to stir. She shifted her head and did a cute little stretchy thing before looking up at my face. A stab of panic pierced my chest as we neared the moment of truth. Did Violet have regrets? It would take only a moment for me to see. If she did, I wouldn’t know what to do.
All these weeks, I’d thought that her leaving was the biggest tragedy I could suffer. I knew now, that wasn’t true. The biggest tragedy would be ruining everything that was good about us and never bouncing back.
“Good morning.” She was lovely as she gazed up at me, her voice even shier than her eyes. I took it as a positive sign. Shy was better than awkward.
“Morning, darlin’.” My voice was gentle but sure. “Did you sleep okay?”
It was a good sign when her answer was a contented smile. “For my first time sleeping in a hayloft, it was actually kind of great.”
Great?
“Hayloft sleeping is underestimated, I’ve found.”
“It depends on who you’re with.” She looked a little bolder now. “I wouldn’t have rolled around in this hayloft with just anybody. I wanted a roll in the hay with you.”
In some ways, the past eight hours had felt like a protracted confession. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but it was way too early for that.
“You’re my favorite person, Violet LaRue.”
“You’re my third favorite person, Chase Greenleaf.” She smiled.
I chuckled, unoffended. “I don’t blame you. They’re great kids.”
“Speaking of them…”
Hesitation came over her expression, but I quickly shook my head. “They don’t need to know anything about this. Not yet.”
A short vibration emanated from next to me yet again. Forrest needed to quit blowing up my phone.
“Who’s texting you this early?”
I glared in the direction of the offending device. “Forrest.”
“Shouldn’t he and Sierra be off in their own hayloft somewhere?”
As she looked mildly tickled, I was sure I looked grim. “Forrest already left the house.”
“Left the house? To go where?”
I sighed, resenting that I had to destroy this moment.
“He’s on his way over. They called us in. We have to get on a plane.”
Now, her face really changed, the sublime contentment that had been in her expression moments before was replaced by something closed off.
“I’ll only be gone a couple days.”
She didn’t look appeased.
“You know I don’t wanna leave you, right?”
She was looking right at me, but something in her had withdrawn.
“I know.” Her voice didn’t sound itself.
She laid her head back on my chest and nodded, as if to underscore that she did know. I wished I could see her face.