Read Crazy Love - Krista & Chase Online
Authors: Melanie Shawn
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romantic Comedy, #Literary Fiction, #Series, #Romance, #Contemporary
* * *
As Chase held Krista in his arms and sang softly to her, he realized that in this moment he had everything he’d ever need. All he needed was her and his music. He didn’t care if he ever sang in front of a stadium full of people. If she was his sole audience for the rest of his life, that would be fine with him.
Her hands were wrapped around his neck and she was snuggled so tight against him that when he moved, they moved as one. Swaying to the music, Chase did his best to keep his hands in appropriate areas. Which was extremely difficult since his body was wound tighter than a drum and demanding that he slip his hands down to cover the rounded curves of her backside. His palms tingled at the thought.
Instead of giving in to his body’s demands, he simply rubbed the silky smooth skin on Krista’s lower back. Krista’s body simultaneously felt so familiar to him yet completely unknown. Which he guessed made sense. The last time he’d touched her, explored her, had been over a decade ago.
The song came to an end and another slow song began playing. A classic—Otis Redding’s Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay. They didn’t miss a beat, just continued to sway to the music. Chase knew that they were in a room full of people whom he was sure were a captivated audience—since most of them were her family members—but this moment, on the crowded dance floor with Krista enveloped in his embrace, felt intimate. More intimate than anything he’d ever experienced with any woman since he’d left Harper’s Crossing.
Not that he’d ever been one to dip into the groupie scene. He understood how it could hold appeal for some people, his band mates included. It was easy. In fact, Chase found that it was harder to avoid those situations than to give in to them. And he’d actually seen rare occasions that those types of hook-ups led to more than just one night. Holder, Midnight Rush’s drummer, had met his wife backstage after a show. He had taken her back to their hotel that night. Four years later, they were happily married with a baby girl on the way.
Still, Chase had never been tempted to go that route. Maybe it was because he’d found the real thing so early on in life that everything else had just seemed like a cheap, generic version. Not that he’d been celibate by any means. He’d met people through industry connections or at parties. There’d been a few women he’d seen on a regular basis, but nothing even came close to replicating what he shared with Krista.
For years, he’d thought that maybe some of what made their bond so powerful was just the fact that his home life had been so miserable and she was his beacon of light. His safe place. His happiness.
Now, as a man with a successful career and a charmed life, he knew that their connection was not based in circumstances or even just the passion of their youth. It was real. What they’d shared then and still shared today was real.
“Krista,” he said softly.
Her only response was burying her head closer against him. He felt and heard her sniff against his shoulder. Moving his hand up her back, he tilted her chin up so he could see her face. When he did, he saw tears slipping down her cheeks.
As he searched her eyes, she spoke softly, “It’s just…too much.”
“I know,” he agreed, pressing his lips to her forehead because he didn’t trust himself to kiss her on her sweet, full lips and not drag her out of here and take her in the hallway. He spread his fingers across her lower back as he threaded his other hand through her hair, holding her tight as she laid her head back against him.
Chase knew exactly what she was feeling. He also knew that trying to talk to Krista about it right now was not what he should do. As tough as she was, she was all heart, which was not something most people knew about her.
When they were younger and her emotions had been running high, she would react first, think later. That had led to a lot, if not all, of their fights. If she got jealous, she would throw accusations like Muhammad Ali threw punches—they stung like bees. Luckily, he’d learned early on how to bob and weave. He’d never let the things she’d say to him when she was upset, stick. They’d just rolled off his back. Because she’d brought that same fire and intensity to other aspects of her life. Namely, him. She’d loved him with a fierceness he’d never known before or since.
The song came to an end and the DJ announced that it was time to party. Actually, he said, “Partayyyyyy!” As a fast beat dance song began playing, Krista started to once again leave the dance floor. Chase knew that if she left him now she would spend all night marinating over the intensity of their slow dances. Chances were, the outcome would be her pulling away from him even more.
So before she’d made it two steps away from him, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
A look of utter shock appeared on her face as she looked up at him. “What are you doing?”
He’d never been a huge fan of dancing that wasn’t the kind that gave him an excuse to hold her close to him. Krista, on the other hand,
loved
dancing of any kind. When they’d gone to dances at school, she’d always danced the fast dances with her friends and then slow danced with him.
He spun her again and began moving to the music. “We’re not done dancing yet,” he said loudly to be heard over the blaring beat.
She dropped her head back and laughed, probably at his moves, before she began dancing along with him. Krista’s belly laugh was the sweetest sound in the world, and her smile lit up the room brighter than a sunny day. As they danced around the floor, Chase was just trying to do his best to keep up with her. It was worth every second because Chase would do anything to see her like that—letting loose, not a care in the world. Even humiliate himself on the dance floor in front of a roomful of people. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.
K
rista tried to find a comfortable position in the steel foldout chair but was quickly coming to the realization that no such position existed. Her body was in far too much discomfort to reach for such a lofty goal. Not only had she pushed herself on the track yesterday morning (thanks to Chase), she’d also danced for hours (thanks again to Chase). It still seemed unreal to Krista that he’d not only stayed out on the floor after their oh-my-gosh-that-was-the-most-intense-moment-of-my-life moment, but he’d stayed out there for a couple of hours after that.
When they’d finally headed off the dance floor because the party was coming to an end, they’d both been soaked in sweat. Krista smiled to herself as she remembered what he’d said to her as they’d made their way to the parking lot with about twenty other party-goers, over half of whom were family members. After she’d thanked him for the dances and told him that she’d had fun, he’d leaned down and whispered in her ear, “It’s not my favorite way to get you this sweaty, but it was fun.” Then he’d kissed her on her forehead and disappeared in a cab with Chip and another guy, who she had seen Nina dancing with all night. Damn him. He’d given her the female equivalent of blue balls.
Her body was not happy with the fact that she had gone from very little (if any!) physical exertion to running five miles and dancing the night away in heels that had been made for fashion’s sake, not dancing. She’d actually worn her slippers to this meeting today because the thought of putting anything on besides the cushiony softness of her slippers had made her want to cry.
“Okay, let’s get started. For today’s agenda, we’ll be covering who will be working which timeslots at the booth after the parade. Also, status updates on the benefit.” Betty, who was the director of the Harper’s Crossing Women’s Shelter, stood behind the wooden podium. Just as she was welcoming everyone, the side door of the gym opened and Amber slipped in before slinking into the empty chair beside Krista.
Leaning over, she whispered, “Did I miss anything?”
Krista shook her head. “Just started.”
Amber nodded and pulled out her phone, Krista assumed, to take notes. They were both on the committee for the annual black-tie fundraiser for the shelter. This was Krista’s fourth year on the committee and Amber’s second. Although Krista would be willing to admit that the dark-haired beauty beside her was much better at this than Krista was. Amber was a marketing genius. Last year, thanks to her, they’d raised twenty percent more than they had the year before.
As Krista tried desperately not to think about her sore, achy muscles that were demanding she take them directly home and fill up a hot bath to soak in, she felt a sharp elbow in her side. Snapping her head towards Amber, she saw her tilting her head down towards her camera. Krista lowered her eyes, and when she did, she saw a photo of her and Chase out on the dance floor. His thumb was on her chin as he tilted her head up to look at him.
Chills spread out all over her body. The people in that picture didn’t just look in love—they looked head-over-heels, truly-deeply-madly in
looove
. Krista looked back up at Amber, who placed her hand over her chest and mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”
Krista smiled and tried to return her attention back to Betty. If there was one thing she didn’t want, it was Betty catching them not paying attention. The woman had a heart of gold and would give you the clothes off her back, but she was a stickler for rules and respect. Which was great as far as the shelter was concerned. She was exactly the kind of person this place needed to run it, the kind of person a lot of the women who came here desperately needed. Not, however, the kind of person who would appreciate two of her board members acting like school girls during an important planning meeting.
“Where are we on location?” Betty asked.
Crap
.
This was Krista’s department, and usually when you reported, you stood up to address everyone so that you could be heard. As gingerly as possible, Krista raised her hand and tried not to wince as she slowly stood. It took longer than she’d hoped to come to an upright position, so she began speaking halfway up.
“I spoke to Mr. Jones, who, some of you might know, owns the property along Riverwalk East. He has a space available that can accommodate five hundred and he is willing to donate it.”
“Lovely! Well done!” Betty said as she clapped her pudgy hands together happily. Then, without any follow-up questions Betty, went on. “Next up—food.”
Great
.
Krista had just made it all the way up and she was going to have to go back down again. Reaching out, she braced herself on the back of the seat in front of her and slowly lowered herself into the chair. When she was seated once again, she could feel Amber staring at her.
Darting her eyes to the side, she saw Amber’s expression, which looked like it was somewhere between worry and concern and amusement and laughter.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
Krista would have nodded but it would have hurt her neck muscles. “Just sore,” she said as quietly as possible.
“From dancing?” Amber asked.
Clearly Amber had not been on the receiving end of an infamous Betty Milestone lecture. If she had, there was no way she would be chatting like they were at lunch instead of behaving like anyone who had been the recipient of one such lecture and treating this meeting with the same reverence you would a church service.
“I ran yesterday, too,” Krista said quietly, trying not to move her lips in case Betty was looking their way.
“Ladies,” Betty said, speaking a decibel louder than she just had. “Do you have something to share? Amber, where are we on entertainment?”
Amber looked down at her phone as she quickly stood. “I still haven’t heard back from all of the bands we were looking at, but the ones that I have are not available on that date. I was thinking that worst-case scenario we could hire a DJ.”
The room instantly fell so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Krista was actually surprised that there hadn’t been audible gasps of horror. Betty stared at Amber like she had just committed one of the seven deadly sins.
Amber looked around the room in confusion. “What? What did I say?”
“This fundraiser is not the sort of event that is suitable for a DJ,” Betty said.