“I love to.”
“Once I get this place updated, want to help me decorate?”
Sierra’s eyes light up. “Um, yes!” I don’t have to say it for Sierra to understand, which solidifies how right we are for each other. I don’t say it, but she knows.
I want this place to be home.
Sierra was right. After the town council meeting let out, everyone came here. I don’t quite understand why a town of roughly three thousand needs this many fucking people on the council, either. For a solid two hours, we’re nonstop busy.
Almost everyone asks me about Josh, Melissa, and the babies. And they all seen disappointed I don’t have any updates. And a handful of them eye me apprehensively, tensing when I come to their table or bring them a drink, similar to the women last night.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this town is fucking weird.
It’s going on eleven when I get time for a break. I hurry up the stairs to Sierra, who’s been busy mapping out exactly how she wants to decorate this place. She went home to take care of her cats and get overnight stuff and brought along her computer and several interior decorating magazines to flip through, keeping busy while I worked downstairs.
She’s on the couch, wearing sleeper shorts and a tank top, with a blanket draped over her shoulders. The blanket is light pink and has a big rainbow-colored unicorn in the middle. She brought it over as a joke since I don’t have throw blankets for the couch. But once we decorate, she’ll get a stylish one, she promised.
“Hey, babe,” she says, looking up from her computer. “Sounds busy down there.”
“It is. Those council members are an interesting crowd.”
She laughs and sets her computer on the coffee table. “That’s a nice way to put it. Your phone was ringing. Someone called a few times.”
I reach into my pocket for my phone, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, the other phone.”
“Yeah, the other one. It’s probably an old girlfriend begging you to come back to her, isn’t it?”
My arms fasten around Sierra’s waist. I don’t think I’m going to make it back to the bar. “Probably. But she’s got nothing on my new girlfriend.”
Sierra’s eyes light up and she smiles before kissing me. We haven’t talked about titles or exclusivity. I think it went unsaid. Though saying the title out loud is fucking nice.
“No,” Sierra whispers. “She doesn’t.”
We kiss again and then Sierra tells me what she has planned. Time goes too fast, and I have to go back to the bar. I grab my phone on my way out and see it was Jax who called. Three times. I step outside by the river and call him back.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he answers on the second ring. “Chase Henson lives.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I say back, grinning. “What kind of shit are you in now?”
“Remember the set of Lambos we took back in Chicago?”
“That’s kind of hard to forget.”
“Right? That’s the problem. The guys we took them from want them back.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Of fucking course. But we don’t have them.”
“I tried to tell them that. Tried to say why we took them in the first place, and it only made things worse. It was, what, six…seven months ago? Those assholes must have made a couple good deals since then and are putting a cash prize on my head.”
“Fucking hell. Did you talk to Jefferson?”
“He’s on vacation. In fucking Europe. For three weeks. Who the fuck goes to Europe for three weeks?”
“We did. I think we were there longer.”
“Shit. Right. I need to lay low until he’s back and can get those assholes properly dealt with. Where the hell are you?” he asks.
“Summer Hill, Mississippi.”
“Still? Beth said you went to deal with family shit. What the fuck is taking so long?”
“My dad died.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Chase.”
“Thanks, but it’s fine. I was never close to him.”
“Yeah,” Jax goes on. “But he’s your fucking father. So, what are you still doing there?”
“Helping my brother. His wife is in labor with twins as we speak. Where are you?”
“Indianapolis. I’m making my way to Miami to wait out the remainder of the three weeks on a fuck-cation with Jackie Sullivan.”
“That chick you recovered the necklaces for?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t she like fifty?”
“Don’t talk shit about her.”
I laugh. “Easy tiger.”
“Only problem is her husband is home for a few more days before going on a business trip. Mind if I stop by for a day or two?”
“No. It’ll be good to see you.” I give him the address, and before we hang up, Jax asks me one more question.
“What the fuck is really going on? You fall off the grid then pop up in the middle of nowhere in the south. Are you being held against your will by your inbred relatives?”
“Fuck you, and goodnight. See ya later.”
I met Jax when I took a job in Reno. Our line of work is solitary, dangerous, and makes it hard to trust anyone. Jax helped me out of a bind, and I returned the favor. We realized how well we work together, and how we could actually get more money by taking on more jobs as a team. He’s the only person besides Josh and Sierra I consider a friend. I’d be lying to say a part of me didn’t miss him.
But an even bigger part thinks having him come here is a bad fucking idea.
Chapter 21
Sierra
“Stay here.”
“What?” I mumble, confused why Chase is telling me to stay in bed. Like I had any intention of getting out. The sun is just starting to rise and we left the window cracked so we could better hear the river. I could stay in bed all day and it wouldn’t be long enough.
“I’m going to see who it is. Just stay here.”
“Who what is?” I reach for Chase as he gets out of bed. My fingers grace the warm flesh of his naked ass. Having him next to me was one of the best things. I pull the blanket up over my shoulder, missing him already yet not awake enough to realize what’s going on.
Chase pulls on pants and opens the bedroom door. Then I hear it, and nerves shoot through me. Knocking. Someone is knocking on the front door. A beat passes and a deep male voice bellows, “Chase, are you alive in there?”
By that time, Chase is out the door, and I sit up, dressed in panties and Chase’s T-shirt, and strain in the dark to listen. Chase greets whoever is at the door happily. Like he knows him.
I push my messy hair out of my face and pad my way to the bedroom door, peering out.
“How the fuck did you get here so fast?” Chase asks. “You said you were in Indy.”
“I was,” the guy answers. I can’t see his face yet.
“That’s a ten-hour drive.”
“I flew.”
“You hate flying,” Chase tells him.
“I hate dying even more,” he says and both he and Chase laugh.