He scrambled for something to say and finally settled on, “So how was your day … after I saw you in the hallway?”
She gave him a blip of a smile and admitted, “Tough and boring.”
“Tell me about that.”
“Tough trying to decide what to do about the weddings and boring because there’s not a lot I can do. I tried to help in the kitchens or with cleaning, but the staff all claimed they were fine and gently pushed me away. I hate not having anything to do.”
He smiled, completely understanding and relating to that. Also, he really liked that she was willing to offer to help. The situation must not have been as desperate as the dramatic front desk girl had made it sound. The resort seemed to be humming happily along with guests and staff all smiling like being snowed in was a grand adventure. He’d been bored earlier, but it wasn’t a bad spot to get caught in a blizzard. There was plenty to do in the gorgeous resort, and Ashley was here. If he could talk her into spending every minute with him, he wouldn’t mind the forced confinement at all.
The waiter brought their drinks and then took their orders. After he left, Chase asked, “So what is the plan with the weddings?”
She shook her head. “The storm isn’t forecast to settle until the twenty-third.” She frowned. “But the storm wasn’t supposed to be this vicious of a blizzard either. I swear, if I failed at my job as much as the weather man …” She trailed off and looked guiltily at him.
Chase laughed. Besides her telling him off, he got the sense she was a positive, kind person. It was funny to hear her cussing some unknown weather man.
“Anyway, after talking with each of the couples numerous times today, I’m pretty sure everyone is okay with doing multiple weddings on the twenty-third. We’ll still have the big party on the twenty fourth with everyone at the resort and from town. If the storm doesn’t clear until then, that will be our wedding day.”
“More work for you?” he guessed.
She shrugged. “At least it gives me something to do while we wait out this snowstorm.”
“You could hang out with me.” She looked dubious, so he rushed to say something that she might want to do with him. “I got a facial, a massage, a pedicure, and a manicure today.”
“You did not.”
“Did too.”
She stared strangely at him. “Why?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Something to do, and it could be considered research. I’m thinking of adding a couple estheticians to my office.”
She looked at him as if she wasn’t certain if she bought his excuse. He held out his hand to her. “Look how baby soft it is.”
She ran her fingertips along the back of his hand, making him tremble, which was awkward and amazing at the same time. Before she could withdraw her hand, he turned his palm over and aligned it with hers.
“Baby soft?” he asked, gazing into her blue eyes.
The tension ramped up between them. He wanted to grab her and pull her in for a long, drawn-out kiss. She ran her palm along his and he may or may not have let out a very un-manly moan.
She smiled slightly and admitted, “Baby soft.” She didn’t withdraw her hand. He was happy and content right now, but would it continue? This woman was very touch and go.
“Also, the facial. My cheeks are soft as a baby’s bum.” He leaned in closer. “Do you want to touch them?”
“Your cheeks can’t be soft. They’re covered in hair.”
He grinned, but even the teasing didn’t dispel the fireworks arcing between them. “All that goop the lady put on them had to condition the hair of my beard. Try it out and let me know.”
She smiled and shook her head, but she lifted her free hand and ran it over the side of his cheek, along his jaw, and then down to his neck. He shivered, in an incredibly good way.
“Your fingers are soft as a baby’s too,” he said.
“Any other treatments that made you soft as a baby?”
They studied each other. He wanted to tell her she could touch his back—the massage therapist had used a mixture of almond and coconut oil that may have softened his skin—but he thought she would balk at that. “I got a pedicure,” he admitted.
She laughed and pulled her hands back. “I am not touching your feet to see how soft they are.”
He smiled, feeling withdrawal from her hands not touching him. “Your loss.”
The waiter brought their salads and they started eating. Chase asked about her career and how she got into wedding planning. Her steak pasta and his ribs and veggies were delivered and they both delved into them as they talked.
She asked about the army and his schooling. They talked a little bit about their families. The conversation was easy and they made it comfortably to chocolate devotion dessert before she tilted her head and asked, “And why are you here? For the weddings or Christmas or because your mom is in South America or are you here with someone?” She rattled off all these questions quickly, but seemed focused on him being here with someone.
He suddenly felt awkward. Could he tell her about Kris luring him here and the crazy idea of finding his dad and that the Chadwicks might be his half-siblings? She stared at him as if his answer meant everything to her.
“Um, well …” Chase always felt confident and comfortable, but he was neither right now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell her what was going on, but he hadn’t even told his own mother. “I don’t know quite how to … explain. I need to have a … difficult discussion with someone before I should really talk about it.” He shifted in his seat and took a quick shot of his water to give him a second to compose his thoughts. Was he making any sense or confusing her as much as he was confused? If only the dream of a father and siblings wasn’t such a strong lure for him.
“It’s okay.” Ashley held up her hand as if to ward him off. “It’s your business. Really, no stress if you don’t want to tell me.”
He felt relieved. His mom should call back tomorrow. He could talk to her and see if he could get to the bottom of his father mystery. Then when the storm cleared and he wasn’t messing up somebody’s wedding, he could talk to the Chadwicks. He wondered where Kris had disappeared to, but he was relieved not to deal with her. He’d texted and called a few times and gotten no response.
“Thank you,” he told Ashley.
She abruptly stood, clutching her little hand purse thing and pulling out a hundred-dollar bill. “I’ve got to go. Lots of work to do. Let me just leave this for dinner.” She dropped the hundred on the table and turned to go.
Chase stood, grabbed the money, and shoved it back into her little purse. “Keep your money. I’ve got dinner.”
Why was she ditching him? She’d admitted earlier that she didn’t have much to do.
“No.” She glared up at him. “This wasn’t a date. I can pay my share.”
“It absolutely was a date,” he insisted, offended. They’d finally relaxed, talked, even joked and touched his “baby soft” skin. What had he done now and why didn’t she want to be on a date with him?
“Was not.” She jutted out her chin.
“Was.”
Grayson chose that moment to appear. Chase quickly pulled out a credit card and thrust it at the competent waiter. “Thank you, Grayson.”