So Juliet, being Juliet, had dragged him back to Autre with a pledge to rebuild the dock. With her help. Not that either of them knew a damned thing about building a dock. But Juliet Dawson never let a little thing like lack of knowledge or experience stop her.
Much to Chase’s amazement, and relief, the Landry family had actually been very cool with them both and instead of treating Chase like someone who’d stolen from them and wreaked havoc on their business, they’d welcomed him, taught him about building, and a hell of a lot more. They’d taught him Cajun culture, Louisiana history, and the true meaning of family and friendship. In only two weeks time. He couldn’t imagine what they’d teach him if he could be with them for a month. Or a year. Or longer.
The blonde moved closer, sliding her arms around Chase’s waist and pressing her breasts against his chest. Automatically Chase’s hands found her ass. She put her lips against his neck. “Let’s get out of here.”
Five of the best words a gorgeous woman could say to a man.
Stupidly, however, Chase’s gaze again went to Bailey Wilcox.
Why? Why, why, why?
He only knew who she was because a couple of nights ago a few of her co-workers were here, too. Mitch knew them because they routinely patrolled the bayou. They’d all had a beer together and talked for a while.
Except Bailey. She’d just sat there, listening, chewing on her bottom lip, and sipping her beer. There was nothing about her that should have caught his attention. She’d been in her work clothes that night, too. She was pretty enough. In a natural, low-maintenance, I’ve-never-even-heard-of-Sephora way. But she was quiet, maybe even shy, and hadn’t said a peep.
Then she’d spilled her beer down her front.
On purpose.
For some reason, Chase had been watching her that night, too. He had no idea what it was about her that drew him, but if he hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have seen the way her glass “accidentally” tipped over, sending beer into her lap.
It had been right after one of her co-workers, a guy named Heath, had said something about his last hunting trip.
She’d shot up from her chair, made some bumbling excuse and apology, and then disappeared. Chase had gone after her a few minutes later, to see if she was all right. Or something. He still wasn’t entirely clear on what he’d been intending. It was beer, and she was a grown woman. He didn’t think she actually needed his help. And what was he going to do? Head into the women’s restroom with a towel?
He’d caught up with her at the front door. It was clear she was leaving. When he’d asked if she was okay, she’d frowned as if she had no idea what he was talking about and as if she wasn’t sure who he was.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” But why wouldn’t she have been okay? It was beer, not acid or even hot coffee. And she was clearly on her way home. She had her car keys in hand and, if he wasn’t mistaken, was holding them in a way that could easily make them a weapon if needed. Against him. He’d taken a step back.
“I’m completely sure.”
“You spilled that beer on purpose,” he’d pointed out. For some reason.
“Yes.”
Okay, so she didn’t lie. Or even act sheepish for getting caught faking a reason to leave.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to leave and that seemed a lot easier than explaining all the reasons why.”
She gave Chase a look that clearly indicated his following her and asking her why she was leaving was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.
Right. Got it. “So, yeah, okay. Have a great night.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Okay.”
On his way back to the table, Chase realized that he had been kind of an ass because he was very unused to women treating him as annoying or suspicious. He was pretty used to women treating him like they wanted to be around him and that having him follow them would have been welcome.
Bailey Wilcox acted as if she’d barely registered his presence.
Huh. That was…interesting.
And now tonight it was happening again. She was still reading and highlighting and Chase was ninety percent sure that she had no idea he was here. Hell, she probably didn’t even know the color of the bartender’s shirt.
Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, her glasses were sliding down her nose, and her baggy clothes gave no indication about any of her curves. She was little. Shorter than him. Slim. But those were the only physical details he could really discern.
Okay, so he’d also noticed the freckles that were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. And that her eyes were a very interesting green-blue color. And that there was tiny bit of pink on the skin in the V of her shirt indicating a slight sunburn. And seriously, why did her hair not stay up in the ponytail? The ponytail holder had slipped at least two inches down, the ponytail hanging at a weird angle, long silky brown strands escaping to fall against her neck and cheek. She had one tucked behind her ear right now, in fact. Why not just put it back up? It was as if she didn’t even notice.
It also looked like someone had just held her head, or even that fucking ponytail, while kissing the hell out of her.
It was driving him crazy.
But none of it was any of his business. She clearly didn’t want company, and it would a definite asshole move to go over there and insinuate himself into her evening.
“My roommate’s out for the night.”
Chase looked back down at the blonde. She was pressed up against him. Completely. How had he forgotten about her? But he’d been lost in thought about Bailey Wilcox. He shook the nerdy wildlife girl out of his head and grinned at… He was really going to need to figure out the blonde’s name at some point.
“Sounds good,” he told her.
It did. A hot one-night stand with this southern sweetheart? Of course that sounded good.
“Great.” She slipped her hand into his and started for the door.
Chase looked over to where Mitch was holding court to let his friend know what was going on. Unfortunately, before his gaze got to Mitch, it skimmed by Bailey again.
Who was no longer sitting and reading by herself at the end of the bar.
Now there was a guy leaning on the bar next to her. Very much in her personal space and clearly not taking the hint that she was busy and didn’t want to talk. She was frowning. Then she shook her head. The guy lifted a brow and reached for the folder she was working on, trying to pull it away.
Her frown deepened and she refused to let go of the folder. She said something to the guy that Chase couldn’t make out and then the guy put his hand down on top of the folder, leaning in slightly, and saying something Chase couldn’t make out.
What was not an asshole move? Helping a woman get away from an dickhead who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
Chase had already let go of the blonde and started toward Bailey when his would-be date asked, “What’s going on?”
He looked back. “Sorry. Something came up.”
He didn’t want to go home with her.
That was definitely a shock. But he didn’t really have time to analyze it beyond acknowledging it was true.
“You’re not coming?” she asked, looking confused.
Yeah, he was sure she was confused. He doubted men said no to her very often. Or ever.