Read Breathe Online

Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #adult, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Mystery

Breathe (40 page)

Her bubblegum lips twitched then she replied softly, “I’ll try.”

Staring at her mouth, he muttered, “And you’ll fail.”

“Chace –” she breathed and his eyes shot back to hers.

“You’re bein’ cute,” he warned.

Her ear dipped to her shoulder and her brows inched together.

Cute.

“I just said your name.”

“All it takes.”

Her head righted, her eyes went hooded, her lips parted and she gave him her look.

Then she gave him more cute and he was fucking thrilled to take it.

“Seriously,” she whispered, near reverent, beyond adorable, “you’re fraking
awesome
.”

He loved it that she felt that way.

And he hoped to Christ she always would.

Chace grinned before he used his hand to pull her close and dip her down so he could kiss her nose. They could have an audience but she was chewing gum. He tasted her, especially with the additional element of bubblemint, they wouldn’t head inside for fifteen minutes.

Then he pulled her back and stated, “Let’s go in.”

She nodded, started to move away and he let her go.

He waited for her to round the truck before he took her hand and guided her to the lit front door.

He’d been out this way on numerous occasions when he was in a cruiser on patrol and for a variety of business during his tenure at CPD. The road that led to the Goodknight house did not dead end at the hills west of town but meandered up them and through the mountains. There were ranches off that road, a couple of units of rental condos for residents and for vacationers and, higher up the mountain, a few large homes owned by wealthy residents or kept as second houses to wealthier non-residents. He’d long since known where the Goodknights lived mostly because, after he’d spotted Faye, he put that one with the one of their name on the mailbox on the street and got two so that house hit his radar.

Their house was split level and, by the look of it, built in the 70’s. Likely family room, dining room, kitchen and other common areas on the lower level, living room and bedrooms up top or vice versa. Seeing as from the road you couldn’t see an elevated deck leading off the upper level but instead a dug out patio leading from the lower one, he was guessing the family areas were down below.

As they made their approach, they were, surprisingly, not greeted at the door. Instead, Faye let them in without knocking and while Chace was closing the door to the March evening Colorado cold, she shouted, “We’re here!”

That was when it began. Something Chace thought he was prepared for.

Something, he was not.

A night in a normal, average family home with a normal, average family that was nutty, loud, opinionated but funny, immensely close and teasingly loving.

They were still standing on the stone tiled landing that had a half flight of stairs leading up to an open space living room to their left and a half flight leading down straight into a kitchen right in front of them. Upon Faye’s shout, two boys, her nephews, Jarot and Robbie, came racing up the steps. The older one had dark brown hair with a hint of red. The younger one had Faye’s hair.

He thought they were racing to greet their Aunt Faye but he would immediately discover they weren’t when they both came to rocking halts in front of him, tipped their heads back and spoke in unison… loudly.

“Show us your badge!” Jarot demanded on a shout.


Gun!
” Robbie screeched.

Apparently, it had been shared with the boys he was a cop.

“Um… can Detective Keaton show you his badge after you say hello to your Auntie Faye, I introduce you to Detective Keaton and maybe he gets a drink, sits down and relaxes?” Faye suggested in a practiced-sounding tone that was mixture of mild exasperation and “aren’t my nephews adorably naughty?”

“Right,” Jarot backed down, moving toward Faye and allowing her, with a soon-to-be nine year old’s obvious reluctance, to give him a short hug and an even shorter peck on the cheek.


Gun!
” Robbie repeated on a screech, ignoring his aunt completely.

“Robbie! Mind your manners!” a woman reproached and Chace’s eyes went to the stairs.

Chace had seen Faye in town with her sister, Sondra and Silas and it was her sister, Liza, who was approaching.

God had seen fit to grant Faye with her father’s unusual blue eyes and her mother’s unusual auburn hair. He’d seen fit to grant Liza Newman with her mother’s dark brown eyes and her father’s dark brown hair. Both were nice but Faye’s combination was a knockout while Liza’s was simply appealing.

That said, she was attractive but her hair was cut short. A style that she wore well and it suited her but it was something Chace did not often find appealing. She’d had two children but her ass and tits were less abundant than her sister’s on a frame that both women inherited from their mother. Same height, same tiny waist, body meant to be hourglass, not streamlined. This meant she took more than passing care of herself and therefore likely dieted. She didn’t look gaunt or in a bad mood because she needed a sandwich since she’d only had a protein bar between breakfast and now. But it wasn’t a look that Chace found appealing either.

Last, Faye was wearing a little jeans skirt through the belt loops of which she’d threaded a bright scarf that she’d tied off to one side in a bow. Up top, she had on a dark green, lightweight sweater under a canvas jacket. The sweater fit well and its neckline had bits that draped in interesting ways making the sweater do what only Faye could naturally do. It hinted at skin and curves without highlighting either at the same time drawing your attention to both.

She was wearing a pair of cowboy boots he’d never seen before that were sweet in their own right but even sweeter on Faye. Fawn suede heavily embroidered with bright stitching. The stitching included yellow and orange that was random detailing, there were some green stitched vines and last there were vibrant pink flowers.

In her outfit, Faye looked what she was. A native Colorado mountain girl who worked in a library and her native was
native
seeing as a line of her people had been there for thousands of years.

Her sister was in wide-legged black slacks that fit tight on her narrow ass, a complicated blouse she got either in Denver or New York City and a pair of high, spike-heeled, shiny black shoes that probably cost more than Faye’s entire outfit. Her makeup was somewhat heavy and her hair took her far more time than Faye’s to arrange. This was partly because Faye’s hair dried in the gleaming straight sheets so she didn’t have to do anything but shove a bobby pin in it somewhere if she felt the urge. It was mostly because Liza not only spent time on her hair but her entire appearance and it looked it.

Normally, Chace didn’t like to spend time with women like this mainly because he didn’t find them attractive and they usually proved to be the kind of women who thought he would, in a big way.

But when Liza made it to the top of the stairs, her eyes came to him and they were warm, there was an outgoing, friendly smile on her face and her appeal ratcheted up significantly.

It ratcheted up more when she stuck out a hand toward him, saying in a welcoming voice, “Chace, awesome to meet you. Been looking forward to it since I heard you were dating my baby sister.”

He shook her hand and replied, “Liza. Good to meet you too.”

She let him go and nabbed both her boys by the tops of their heads, tousling their hair, “These are my two crazy bugs, Jarot,” she tousled his hair again, “and Robbie,” another tousle for Robbie. “Boys, say hello to Detective Keaton then back downstairs with the both of you.”

Jarot raised a hand in a quick wave, and muttered, “’Lo, Dee-tetive Keaton.” Then he did as he was told and raced away.

Robbie stared at him and repeated, “Wanna see the gun.”

“Sorry, bud, didn’t bring my gun,” Chace replied on a lie since he did but it was in his truck.

Robbie kept at it. “Then wanna see the badge.”

Liza’s hand slid down to the back of his neck, she bent over him and ordered, “Badge later. Now, say hello then go downstairs, honey.”

He looked at his mother and narrowed his eyes, clearly peeved.

Then he looked back up at Chace and said a sulky, “’Lo,” before he also raced away.

Liza looked back at Chace, sharing, “I tell myself he’s in a stage but this is denial. He’s my baby and I spoil him. I should probably stop doing that but I can’t. So his future wife will have to sort him out and I’m just going to enjoy myself.”

Faye got close, leaned into him and up in order to whisper, “This is not a good plan.”

“As usual, I agree with my girl Faye,” a deep male voice came their way.

Chace looked to the stairs to see a shortish, stocky, prematurely graying, good-looking man walking up them wearing a welcoming smile and a mountain man uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt that clashed violently with his wife’s apparel. He also looked like a man who didn’t give a fuck. He was who he was and she was who she was and even though they didn’t go together, taking them in it was clear, in their way, they fit.

He had his hand up before he made it to Chace but only continued talking when Chace’s hand gripped his.

“Boyd Newman,” he introduced himself, still smiling.

“Chace Keaton,” Chace told him something he already knew not only because he was seeing the man’s sister-in-law and this was undoubtedly reported to him but because everyone in the county knew who he was.

“Good to meet you, man,” he gripped Chace’s hand tight but not combative, just friendly then they broke the hold.

“Uh… you want to let the man come down and get a beer or what?” Silas called from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll take your coats,” Liza muttered and Chace moved to Faye to help her with hers before giving it to a now beaming, didn’t miss the help with her sister’s coat, Liza.

Then he took off his own and gave it to her. She tucked both under her arm and moved to a door on the landing that was clearly the coat closet.

Faye grabbed his hand and walked him down the stairs at the bottom of which she let him go because she had no choice seeing as Silas engulfed her in a bear hug that included several hearty claps on the back and a couple of swings. He let her go and stuck out a hand to Chace.

Chace took it and got a, “Chace, beer, bourbon, vodka or what?”

“Silas. Beer,” Chace answered.

Silas let his hand go but lifted his, clapped him stoutly on the arm, moved away and Sondra was there.

“Chace, happy to have you here,” she beamed up at him, offering her hand. Chace took it and squeezed while wondering if, when Faye got older, her hair would turn that attractive silvery-white just around her face like her mother’s was. He also hoped it would.

No fancy clothes for Sondra Goodknight, as ever. Also no makeup.

Nice jeans. A turtleneck sweater that became her figure and it was a soft beige color that became her complexion. A chunky, low-hanging, necklace made of silver, turquoise and coral that looked vintage and was definitely Native American. Stocking feet.

Family dinner. Family time. Family. No high heels. Just wool socks and because her daughter’s boyfriend was there for the first time, she threw on a necklace.

Yeah, he liked Sondra Goodknight.

“Good to be here, Sondra,” he muttered.

She gave him a bright smile much like Liza’s, he let her hand go and Faye moved in for a kiss on the cheek and to hand her the flowers.

“These are from Chace, Mom” she told her mother, Sondra took the bouquet and her eyes went to the flowers then to him and they were even warmer.

“Pink. Perfect,” she said softly then finished, the gratitude gentle in her voice, conveying the feeling behind the words without overdoing it, “Thank you, Chace.”

He lifted his chin.

She grinned at him and announced, “I’ll put these in water and there are a few things to finish up in the kitchen. Go in and sit a spell.” She turned to her daughter, lifted a hand to touch Faye’s cheek lightly and then whispered softly, “Pretty as a picture.” She dropped her hand but tipped her head toward the family room and went on, “Take your man in to get comfortable, honey. Your Dad will bring in his beer.”

Faye grabbed his hand and led him to the right, directly toward a couch in the family room.

Chace followed, his mind consumed with Sondra’s soft voice saying,
Pretty as a picture.

Light touch. Loving comment to her daughter delivered in a quiet way that was practiced but that made the compliment no less heartfelt. Instead, it amplified it. Stocking feet. Comfortable in her home. Wanting you to be too. She appreciated the flowers, made that known but didn’t go overboard in a way that would make Chace ill-at-ease.

As these thoughts swiftly moved through his head, Chace couldn’t help but think what it would be like when Faye eventually met his mother.

Valerie Keaton wouldn’t be wearing wool socks and a beautiful, Native American necklace. She’d be in a brand new outfit that would cost more than Faye earned in a month. She would praise Chace, no doubt, and act loving and sweet. She’d also be nervous, likely clumsy because of it, embarrassed because of that and, finally, overly apologetic. She’d also try too hard and therefore manage to smother Chace
and
Faye in her efforts to make Faye like her at the same time convince Faye that Chace could move mountains.

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