Breathe
Page 5
Jesus.
Making matters worse, she smelled good.
No, not good.
Fucking amazing.
Christ, he wanted to kiss her. Ached to do it.
“Is there more?” she whispered and he blinked, his eyes shifting from their attention to her mouth to hers.
“You were right,” he whispered back. “I’m workin’ through some shit.”
“I can imagine,” she replied, swinging her body back a few inches, coolness washing through her features. No, not cold. Again distant.
“Doesn’t make it okay to be a dick,” he carried on.
“This is true,” she agreed.
“What I said was not nice and it was not acceptable.”
“I think I got that you felt that way when you apologized, Detective Keaton.”
He pulled her back the inches she’d shifted away at the same time he curled his body closer to hers, locked his eyes with her blue ones and whispered, “Chace.”
He watched her swallow, the coolness left her features, a flash of nervousness and uncertainty went through her eyes, but she didn’t reply.
“I’d really like to know, Faye, that you accept my apology,” he told her quietly.
“I already said I did.” Her sweet, quiet voice came back at him instantly.
“Right, then what I’d like to know is that you mean it.”
She held his eyes and he not only sensed but saw her breath escalating.
Cute and hot.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Then she whispered, “I mean it.”
“You mean it what?” Chace returned immediately, going for it. Shit, even so much as needing it.
Her head gave a slight jerk as she blinked and that was also unbelievably cute.
“I mean it what um… what?” she whispered.
He pulled her closer using her arm at the same time he lifted his other hand with the coffee cup, touched it to her waist and whispered back, “You mean it, Chace.”
Then, Christ, Christ, he watched the tip of her pink tongue move out to wet the fullness of her bottom lip. Her little, even white teeth sunk into that lip and that was off the charts cute and so f**king hot, he felt it in his dick.
She let her lip go and she whispered, “I mean it, Chace.”
He felt that in his dick too.
Jesus, what the f**k was he doing?
Abruptly, he let her go and stepped away. He regretted it immediately for she wasn’t ready for it and visibly teetered without his hold on her, his body close. She steadied herself but he didn’t like to see her teeter. However he did like the knowledge that she was as absorbed in him as he was in her.
That didn’t mean he shouldn’t shut it down. He should.
And he did.
“Thank you, Faye,” he said, his voice more formal. Not cold. Like hers, distant.
She blinked.
Then she pulled in breath.
Then she said, strangely, “Lexie.”
“What?” he asked.
“Lexie,” she repeated, leaned in almost the instant she leaned right back and then she squared her shoulders again and said in a firmer tone. “I bet Lexie Walker would be a good listener and I know she likes you. I’ve seen you two have lunch together at the diner and you make her laugh. I mean, everyone makes Lexie laugh. She’s a laugher. But you do too. You should talk to her. She’d help.”
And without another word, she turned and moved quickly down the sidewalk.
Everything that was Chace Keaton urged him to follow her. To ask her to dinner. To get to know her. To find the right time to taste her mouth. To find the right time to taste her body. To take the time to teach her how to pleasure his. To lay his burden on her.
Everything that Chace Keaton had done, seen and heard for near on a decade stopped him.
So he turned in the opposite direction and walked to his truck.
Chapter Two
Bubblemint
“This is good.”
“This is not good.”
“I think it’s good.”
“It is definitely not good.”
I was standing behind the checkout desk in the library and in front of me were Lexie Walker, Krystal Briggs and Lauren Jackson.
Lexie was married to Ty Walker. She was a beautiful brunette and her husband was a gorgeous half African American, half white man who’d recently made national news when it was uncovered he was framed and went to prison for a murder he did not commit.
Krystal Briggs was a petite, buxom woman who, today (but it could be different tomorrow), had a mass of golden, honeyed locks akin to Farrah Fawcett’s hair in Charlie’s Angels. She was married to Jonas “Bubba” Briggs who had, for years, partied hearty and he did this without her while she worked at their bar called Bubba’s. She’d kicked him out and then about a year and a half later, for some reason, she married him. I didn’t get that and in the past few months, as Lexie introduced me to her posse, Krystal hadn’t shared. Then again, Krystal kind of scared me so I didn’t ask. What I did notice was that Bubba wasn’t partying hearty anymore and instead seemed pretty devoted. So I guessed things were going all right.
Lauren Jackson was married to Tatum Jackson who I’d had a crush on for forever (or, until Chace Keaton moved to town). Growing up, anytime I saw him, my heart would skip a beat. This was because he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen (until Chace Keaton moved to town). He was a little rough around the edges but he made it beyond attractive. He was also a nice man, well-liked, if a little messed up seeing as his on-again, off-again girlfriend was more than a little crazy. Now he was with Laurie and he was no longer messed up. Of course, this was after his on-again, off-again girlfriend was murdered by a serial killer and Laurie was almost murdered by the same guy. But now for Tate, and for Laurie, everything seemed cool.
Thinking all this, it brought to mind my Dad’s comment after Misty Keaton was killed which was, “Used to be, Carnal was quiet. Sure, the bikers could make a ruckus and did. But no one got dead. Maybe stuck with a knife but not dead. Now seems everyone’s gettin’ dead or almost dead or doin’ time for a crime they didn’t commit. Quiet, small town life ain’t all it used to be.”
This was, unfortunately, true.
Lexie was the first one who spoke after I told them what happened with Chace Keaton in Harker’s Wood and on the sidewalk the day before. Krystal was the second and forth comment. Laurie was third.
I watched Lexie turn to Krystal and ask, “How is it not good?”
“Uh… hello?” Krystal asked back sarcastically. “Did you not hear Faye? That boy is f**ked up.”
Making matters worse, she smelled good.
No, not good.
Fucking amazing.
Christ, he wanted to kiss her. Ached to do it.
“Is there more?” she whispered and he blinked, his eyes shifting from their attention to her mouth to hers.
“You were right,” he whispered back. “I’m workin’ through some shit.”
“I can imagine,” she replied, swinging her body back a few inches, coolness washing through her features. No, not cold. Again distant.
“Doesn’t make it okay to be a dick,” he carried on.
“This is true,” she agreed.
“What I said was not nice and it was not acceptable.”
“I think I got that you felt that way when you apologized, Detective Keaton.”
He pulled her back the inches she’d shifted away at the same time he curled his body closer to hers, locked his eyes with her blue ones and whispered, “Chace.”
He watched her swallow, the coolness left her features, a flash of nervousness and uncertainty went through her eyes, but she didn’t reply.
“I’d really like to know, Faye, that you accept my apology,” he told her quietly.
“I already said I did.” Her sweet, quiet voice came back at him instantly.
“Right, then what I’d like to know is that you mean it.”
She held his eyes and he not only sensed but saw her breath escalating.
Cute and hot.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Then she whispered, “I mean it.”
“You mean it what?” Chace returned immediately, going for it. Shit, even so much as needing it.
Her head gave a slight jerk as she blinked and that was also unbelievably cute.
“I mean it what um… what?” she whispered.
He pulled her closer using her arm at the same time he lifted his other hand with the coffee cup, touched it to her waist and whispered back, “You mean it, Chace.”
Then, Christ, Christ, he watched the tip of her pink tongue move out to wet the fullness of her bottom lip. Her little, even white teeth sunk into that lip and that was off the charts cute and so f**king hot, he felt it in his dick.
She let her lip go and she whispered, “I mean it, Chace.”
He felt that in his dick too.
Jesus, what the f**k was he doing?
Abruptly, he let her go and stepped away. He regretted it immediately for she wasn’t ready for it and visibly teetered without his hold on her, his body close. She steadied herself but he didn’t like to see her teeter. However he did like the knowledge that she was as absorbed in him as he was in her.
That didn’t mean he shouldn’t shut it down. He should.
And he did.
“Thank you, Faye,” he said, his voice more formal. Not cold. Like hers, distant.
She blinked.
Then she pulled in breath.
Then she said, strangely, “Lexie.”
“What?” he asked.
“Lexie,” she repeated, leaned in almost the instant she leaned right back and then she squared her shoulders again and said in a firmer tone. “I bet Lexie Walker would be a good listener and I know she likes you. I’ve seen you two have lunch together at the diner and you make her laugh. I mean, everyone makes Lexie laugh. She’s a laugher. But you do too. You should talk to her. She’d help.”
And without another word, she turned and moved quickly down the sidewalk.
Everything that was Chace Keaton urged him to follow her. To ask her to dinner. To get to know her. To find the right time to taste her mouth. To find the right time to taste her body. To take the time to teach her how to pleasure his. To lay his burden on her.
Everything that Chace Keaton had done, seen and heard for near on a decade stopped him.
So he turned in the opposite direction and walked to his truck.
Chapter Two
Bubblemint
“This is good.”
“This is not good.”
“I think it’s good.”
“It is definitely not good.”
I was standing behind the checkout desk in the library and in front of me were Lexie Walker, Krystal Briggs and Lauren Jackson.
Lexie was married to Ty Walker. She was a beautiful brunette and her husband was a gorgeous half African American, half white man who’d recently made national news when it was uncovered he was framed and went to prison for a murder he did not commit.
Krystal Briggs was a petite, buxom woman who, today (but it could be different tomorrow), had a mass of golden, honeyed locks akin to Farrah Fawcett’s hair in Charlie’s Angels. She was married to Jonas “Bubba” Briggs who had, for years, partied hearty and he did this without her while she worked at their bar called Bubba’s. She’d kicked him out and then about a year and a half later, for some reason, she married him. I didn’t get that and in the past few months, as Lexie introduced me to her posse, Krystal hadn’t shared. Then again, Krystal kind of scared me so I didn’t ask. What I did notice was that Bubba wasn’t partying hearty anymore and instead seemed pretty devoted. So I guessed things were going all right.
Lauren Jackson was married to Tatum Jackson who I’d had a crush on for forever (or, until Chace Keaton moved to town). Growing up, anytime I saw him, my heart would skip a beat. This was because he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen (until Chace Keaton moved to town). He was a little rough around the edges but he made it beyond attractive. He was also a nice man, well-liked, if a little messed up seeing as his on-again, off-again girlfriend was more than a little crazy. Now he was with Laurie and he was no longer messed up. Of course, this was after his on-again, off-again girlfriend was murdered by a serial killer and Laurie was almost murdered by the same guy. But now for Tate, and for Laurie, everything seemed cool.
Thinking all this, it brought to mind my Dad’s comment after Misty Keaton was killed which was, “Used to be, Carnal was quiet. Sure, the bikers could make a ruckus and did. But no one got dead. Maybe stuck with a knife but not dead. Now seems everyone’s gettin’ dead or almost dead or doin’ time for a crime they didn’t commit. Quiet, small town life ain’t all it used to be.”
This was, unfortunately, true.
Lexie was the first one who spoke after I told them what happened with Chace Keaton in Harker’s Wood and on the sidewalk the day before. Krystal was the second and forth comment. Laurie was third.
I watched Lexie turn to Krystal and ask, “How is it not good?”
“Uh… hello?” Krystal asked back sarcastically. “Did you not hear Faye? That boy is f**ked up.”
