For Seven Nights Only (Chase Brothers) (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Taking Monday off had gotten Sawyer’s ass handed to him Tuesday morning. Subsequently, he’d worked late two nights in a row, until his brothers stopped glaring at him. Thursday left him staring at his water-stained ceiling, wondering if he should call Kelsie. Or text. Then he wondered when he’d
ever
done that and sat back instead, dreading the damned opera. The only thing that made the idea of it remotely tolerable was knowing he’d be there with her. The problem was they would be there to find her a man, and he was increasingly pissed off over the whole idea of finding someone else for her when he wanted her in the worst way.

Not to mention that he felt like a fraud. He knew nothing about men who actually
wanted
to go to the opera, and it stood to reason that the rest had been dragged there unwillingly, which meant they weren’t available to begin with.

His phone vibrated. He looked down to see a text from a stewardess he’d met months ago, who had apparently just made her way back to JFK. He deleted it without responding and went back to staring at his ceiling.

He wanted to see Kelsie. Or at least let her know he was thinking of her. Which went against everything he stood for and had nothing to do with that hand job she’d given him. Or maybe it did. Yeah, that was a much better theory than him missing her.

He had to get her out of his system. He had to sleep with her. But he couldn’t sleep with her, because she wanted weddings and white picket fences, and he only did one-night stands with women who were most definitely on the same page.

Dammit
.

He kicked the recliner closed and powered off the television he hadn’t even glanced at since turning it on. He pocketed his keys and cell phone, and, checking for his wallet, he left the apartment. There was only one way he was going to get through the night, and that was with a damned good excuse for a distraction.

When the elevator arrived, he headed downstairs.

Alone.

…

Kelsie poked at the remains of her pork fried rice, despite not having taken a bite in at least thirty minutes. Nearly three days of trying to reroute her thoughts away from all things Sawyer had culminated in utter failure. While there hadn’t been a single reason he needed to contact her—they had a date the following day, and as far as she knew, it stood—she couldn’t help feeling a little…lost.

No more so than when her sister called, gushing over wedding plans. Kelsie just leaned her head back against the sofa and listened while Marmaduke took up his favorite pastime, which was trying to pull the elastic band out of her hair.

If her sister heard the pseudo-fierce growls through the connection, she didn’t mention them. “Have you seen the weather forecast?” Jana squealed. “The harbor could have been dicey this time of the year, but it’s utterly
perfect
.”

“I’m really happy for you guys,” Kelsie said. “Truly.”

Jana hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay, you know, with…your ex—”

“I’m
fine
,” she snapped, clear evidence that she was not fine. Not at all.

“Okay, good. Because you know how I said I didn’t want a bachelorette party?”

Oh. God. No. “Yes, you did say that. Emphatically.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind!” Jana squealed. She honest-to-God, grown-ass-woman
squealed
.

Kelsie closed her eyes and prayed for some kind of apocalypse. “Your wedding is a little over a week away. I’m not sure you get to just change your mind.”

“I know. I know this is last minute,” Jana said, again with the squeal, “but there’s this club and I’ve been dying to go. We can just all meet there, so you’ll hardly have to do a thing.”

“Wait…
me
?” But even as she asked, she knew. It was her job. But the fact that between her mother and her sister, she’d had
nothing
to do with the wedding had left her off her game. Briefly she wondered if Marmaduke could be convinced to leave her hair alone and instead chew off her head. Unlike with the hair tie, there was meat involved.

“You are the maid of honor, not to mention my sister,” Jana said, borderline offended. “Of course you’re going to throw the party. How’s a week from tonight?”

“Um, yeah.” A knock sounded at the door. Kelsie glanced at the clock. It was after nine. She stood and went to the peephole.
Sawyer?
She swung open the door, realizing as she did that her sister was still talking. “Sounds good,” Kelsie interrupted. “Look, I need to go. Text me the details you want, and I’ll see if I can reserve a spot or whatever you do for that kind of place.”

“Oooh, you’re the best. Thank you!”

Kelsie ended the call without saying good-bye. “What are you doing here?”

He held out a small package. “I thought your rat might like some real food, so I went out and asked around until someone told me what kind of meat Chihuahuas were allowed, and I bought an assortment. And it’s precooked. Because you’re a shit cook.”

Her heart bloomed. “That was…almost really sweet.”

“Can I come in?”

She glanced down at her sleep shorts and tank top. “Yeah,” she said. “You can come in.”

He handed her the package. “You feed him. I don’t want to interfere with your routine.”

She blinked. “You show up here after nine carrying a bag of meat, and you think feeding the dog is what’s going to put me over the edge?”

“Experience suggests it doesn’t take much,” he said dryly.

She cleared her throat. “I figured you’d have a…date.”

“I do,” he said, and her stomach dropped. “Fucking opera tomorrow. I still can’t believe I agreed to it.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she peeled back the wrapping of Sawyer’s gift. Marmaduke immediately perked, then jumped off the sofa and trotted over. He paused to growl at Sawyer but was quickly distracted when she put a couple of small pieces of meat in his dish. While the dog chowed down, she rewrapped the rest, then placed it in the fridge. He’d already had his rations for the day, but a small treat wouldn’t hurt.

She washed her hands and was suddenly without anything to do to distract her from the unfairly sexy man wearing well-worn jeans and a faded T-shirt and taking up space in her apartment. “We’re not having sex,” she said.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he announced at nearly the same time.

“Doing what wrong?” There was no telling where his mind had gone since she’d been stupid enough to mention sex.

“The takeout carton. It’s supposed to open into a plate.”

Relief washed over her. Chinese food was the safest of all topics. She could do this. “I don’t care what the Internet says. I prefer to eat out of the box.”

He walked over and plopped down on the sofa. Then he picked up her pork fried rice.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned.

“This from today?” he asked, peering inside.

“Yes. Sawyer Chase, don’t you
dare
deconstruct my box.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”

She rolled her eyes, then sat at the other end of the sofa. “Still a pig.”

“I’m really not.”

His voice was quiet. It caught her off guard but didn’t steal her fight. “You have meaningless sex with every woman who will have you. That’s quite swine-like.” She punctuated that with a jab at his leg with her foot.

“Nope.” He captured her foot mid-assault, propped it on one of his thighs, and started rubbing. “I don’t lie to them. They know what they’re getting, and I never promise anyone more than one date, one night.”

“Except me,” she said softly. She didn’t look at him. She looked at her foot.

“Except you.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “The truth? I was bored.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about his admission.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, boyish grin back in full force. “You initiated the whole thing. First you watered down my apartment, then you threatened me with your cooking. What’s the deal with that, by the way? Did your mom ever
try
to teach you to cook?”

“Nope. She was a career woman. My dad, too. Takeout all the way.”

“Your sister the same way?”

Kelsie bit back a grin. “She’s worse. But don’t change the subject. Why were you bored?”

“You got any beer?”

She cocked her head toward the fridge. “Go for it.”

He eased from under her leg, leaving it on his cushion. “Want one?”

“I have a glass of water,” she said. “Unless you tried to unfold it.”

His laughter trailed behind him as he crossed the small apartment. When he returned, he carefully placed her foot back on his thigh. “To answer your question,” he said, “I just wasn’t interested in the bar scene that night. And if you can’t entertain yourself in a bar, you’re pretty well screwed sitting alone at home.”

“Is that why you’re here tonight?”

“To get pretty well screwed?”

“No.” She laughed. “Because you’re bored.”

“If I answer that question, you’re going to use it against me.”

Her mouth twitched. “I thought you came to feed my dog?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, a tad sheepish.

“The water thing,” she said, hoping she was treading cautiously. “Have you even tried to get near it?”

He turned his head and fixed those gorgeous green eyes on her. “Are you asking if I have legitimate psychological issues?”

“I already know you have legitimate psychological issues,” she said. “I’m just asking about the water.”

He leaned back against the cushions and laughed, and she was again struck by how gorgeous he was. And how…on her sofa, with her foot in his lap. After nine o’clock on a Thursday night, presumably because he worried her dog would starve.

He ran a finger across the tips of her toes and smiled when she wriggled. It tickled. “I’ve never let anyone drown because I refused to get in the water. How’s that?”

“Have you ever actually jumped in to save someone from drowning?”

“Nope.” His grin devastated her in the best possible way.

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped. “That’s cheating.”

“Yet my assertion remains true.”

“Has anyone ever really pushed you out of your comfort zone, Sawyer? Successfully, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said. He gave her foot a squeeze and stood. “You did. Fucking opera.”

While she stared, a grin teasing her mouth, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” she said as he headed for the door. “Why did you come over?”

“Felt bad for the dog.” He hesitated by the door, then dug in his pocket. He came up with a piece of paper, which he tossed on her table. “And someone asked me to give you this.”

The irony, of course, being that he hadn’t given it to her but had thrown it on the table. When the door shut behind him, she immediately went to grab the slip of paper. On it, someone had scrawled a man’s name and phone number. Under that was a small note.
The guy from the gym
.

Kelsie read it a dozen times, her throat growing tighter by the moment.

Then she crumbled the damned thing and tossed it in a drawer.

Chapter Nine

The opera was an utter waste of a Friday night. For that matter, it was an utter waste of any night, yet there Sawyer stood at her door, fidgeting and tugging at his collar. His second thoughts had second thoughts. In theory, her idea to go to the opera had been marginally acceptable. She wanted a cultured kind of guy…long-term, he’d guess. Someone who could button the top button of a dress shirt without feeling like he was choking. Someone who could show up to that wedding of hers and not make a fool of himself over which fork to use, and who could discuss museum exhibits and literature and the stock market. Not a guy who had zero interest in playing the dutiful, domesticated type that paid good money to listen to people screech from a stage. Definitely not an HVAC guy with zero interest in the fine arts.

Definitely
not him.

He didn’t like how much he
really
didn’t appreciate that. He thought of the number he’d left at her apartment the night before, and his stomach turned. His buddy had asked about her, and as much as Sawyer wanted to claim her, he couldn’t. That wasn’t what she wanted, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going on that boat. He hadn’t asked if she called. He didn’t want to know.

He didn’t want to knock.

But he did, and he was richly rewarded. When Kelsie opened her door, she wasn’t wearing yards of drapery. Or her glasses. Instead, she stood before him wearing a smile and a clingy, sexy dress without a scarf in sight. Hot damn. “Where’s your muumuu?” he asked.

The smile disappeared. “What?”

“The scarf. The thing you always wear. Even to work out.” He had a flashback to the thing she’d tried to wear dancing and immediately wished he’d just told her she looked nice and left it at that.

She shrugged. “It doesn’t go with my dress.”

He didn’t tell her it didn’t go with
anything
or that the fact clearly hadn’t bothered her before. Because right now she was incredible. “You look amazing,” he said. “
Edible
.”

She scowled. Fiercely. “Oh, you could just eat me for lunch. That’s original. Were you a construction worker in a past life?”

He blinked. “
What?
”

“Catcalls. The language of womanizing pigs. I thought you might be fluent. Comments like that are exactly why I prefer to cover up.”

Well, now he did feel like shit. “Kelsie, that was a real compliment. And a bit of an insult on your part, because there’s no way in hell you’ve ever heard anything like that come out of my mouth. At least not in that way.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I’m self-conscious. Not your fault.”

“I see that.” But she was hurt. Inexplicably so. His voice soft, he asked, “What happened to you that made you want to hide?”

She looked down, her expression touching true unhappiness. “It was a long time ago.”

“And it clearly still matters.”

She sighed again, and it was one of quiet misery. Defeat. “My sister and I attended a private high school. It was a short walk from home, but we had to pass the entrance to this construction site. Right by the office, so there were always guys there first thing in the morning. It was a huge apartment complex, and I swear it took them two years to build that place. Anyway, naturally we had uniforms, and of course they were skirts. And I listened to that crap twice a day, every day. It was humiliating.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for that shit. Grown-ass men messing with schoolgirls.”

“It gets worse. One day one of them grabbed me, right in front of everyone. Nothing else happened, but after that I started covering up. Even on the hottest days, I wore everything I could to try to disappear.” She hesitated. “It became a habit I wasn’t comfortable undoing. Until you. You made me feel a little more…appreciated. In a good way.”

“And then I said you were edible and screwed it all up.”

“No, you’re right. It came from a different place, and I appreciate that. I’m just a little uptight, but I guess that’s why you’re here.”

God, she sounded small. In hopes of breaking the tension, or at least bringing her out of that place, he gave a long-suffering sigh, intentionally over the top. “Actually I’m here to go to the opera. Had to be a hell of a woman who talked me into
that
. One with gorgeous eyes, I might add. The glasses have grown on me, but I love being able to see past them to what’s underneath.”

She smiled. A little wavering, but he’d take it. “Contacts,” she said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to tolerate them, but thank you. You might not be a total pig.”

“Pig or not, I’m a lucky man,” he said.

“To go to the opera?”

“To go with you. But we’re going to be late, so let’s get this over with.”

Over with indeed. An hour later, he was stuck in an overstuffed seat at an overly extravagant theater with people who were beyond overdone. And no one smiled.

No one.

“He’s nice,” Kelsie murmured.

Sawyer didn’t ask who. He didn’t care, to be honest, but the look in Kelsie’s eyes had him following her gaze to some guy in a tuxedo. “He’s a douche.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“He’s at the fucking opera, and he looks happy about it, that’s how.”

Kelsie laughed and patted Sawyer’s leg. The platonic gesture irked him until the
good boy
momentum ended with her fingertips resting lightly on his thigh. That, too, ended when she spotted another man.

“What about him?”

Sawyer took in the plain black suit, the mutton-like haircut, and the frozen expression on the man’s face. “He looks like a funeral director.”

She narrowed her eyes, but they rested on Sawyer for only a second before someone else caught her attention. “And that guy?”

He twisted in his seat for a look. “Do you see how much jewelry he’s wearing?”

She frowned. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“You’re not at a livestock auction. Or a police station. You can’t just pick them out of a lineup. They’re
people
, you know.” Sarcasm—one of the few art forms he actually appreciated.

Her, not so much.

The lights dimmed, saving him the brunt of whatever reply she’d been formulating behind that mask of irritation. But even that reply would have been better than what happened on the stage. From a hushed silence, some woman started caterwauling, arms outstretched and face to the ceiling. All those acoustics the opera house brochures bragged about sent the noise funneling straight to his eardrums and caused pain.
Actual
pain.

People
paid
for this shit?

He leaned close to Kelsie. “Bachelor number one,” he whispered, shooting a subtle gesture in the direction of the first man she’d pointed out.

She gave Sawyer another irritated look. “What about him?”

Sawyer leaned close to be heard over that god-awful squawking on the stage. “Look how straight he’s sitting. He’s having the time of his life.
Here
.”

“So what? You’re sprawled in that seat like you’re riding the subway at midnight. He’s got class.”

“The implication being that I don’t?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just—”

“Bachelor number two,” Sawyer interrupted, not interested in hearing more. “Funeral Director Guy still has no expression. He’s not frowning. He’s not happy. He’s just sitting there, droll as fuck.”

“So what?”

“You’re a passionate woman. Trust me…you want a man who can handle that. What are you going to do with a man who can listen to this screaming and not blink? He wouldn’t know passion if you filled a hearse with it and ran his ass over.”

They were centimeters apart now—close enough that her glare nearly incinerated him. “And this is where you say
you
are the only guy who can handle me?”

He pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re asking a dangerous question,” she said, her fingertips tiptoeing along his thigh, headed north.

“I think you have a little thing for danger,” he replied. He returned the favor by moving his hand under her dress until he separated her thighs and her heat threatened to incinerate him.

Baby, just ask.

Her gaze dropped to his lips. It was all the invitation he needed. Instantly, his mouth was on hers. He’d never been more grateful to be in the dark, and the alcove in which they were seated kept them out of view.

Whatever sound of surprise she made was lost, her hesitation shattering in the split second it took him to put his hands on her. The slinky black dress she wore left plenty of room for him to flatten his palm on her leg, then edge it upward as he slanted his head, searching for a newer, deeper angle. He barely noted the crescendo of ear-splitting noise in the background as Kelsie slid her arms around his neck, her cold palms pressing against his heated skin.

He had every intention of warming her up. Melting her. And the completely inappropriate moans and murmurs escaping their joined lips indicated he was succeeding.

Their only company near the alcove was a white-haired man who had to be eighty if he was a day, and his companion, a woman who appeared to be singing, loudly and off-key, along with the onstage performer. Between the darkness and the rows of seats separating them from the older couple, Sawyer had no qualms about edging his hand higher along Kelsie’s thigh until his fingers were wet and her gentle grip on his neck turned into a demand that she voiced between kisses.

“I want you.”

If she had been anyone else, he probably would have nailed her right there in the opera house, but this was Kelsie. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take her home and take his time with her. He’d been thinking for days about stripping her down, and a dark corner in a noisy room wouldn’t cut it. He wanted to explore her every curve, and he wanted to take his sweet time doing it. He wanted to feel the slide of her body against his and indulge in the contrast between hot woman, cool sheets, and heated skin. The idea that she might come to her senses during the ride home terrified him, but he also wanted her to have that chance. Because this would be no quickie. This was new territory for him, and he wanted to explore it for all it was worth.

“You wanna go home?” he asked.

“God, yes.”

“You sure? Because I think you were here to meet men.”

She glared, and he bit back laughter. Then he kissed her again, and while he had her nice and distracted he circled her clit with his thumb. She jerked in her seat, clawing her way closer until she was as plastered to him as the armrest would allow.

“Not playing fair,” she managed between shaky breaths.

“Sweetheart, this is just the beginning. And by the way, I think you stopped playing fair long before I did. You may have forgotten that little hand job of yours, but I sure as hell haven’t.” With that, he stood and helped her to her feet. She scrambled to fix her dress as they exited, and he nearly laughed out loud when he noticed the old man was wearing earplugs. The woman stopped her singing mid-note to give them a dirty look, but he didn’t care.

He was about to get laid.

They made their way out quickly, even though he stopped her a number of times to kiss her. By the time they grabbed a cab, they were laughing and all over each other like a couple of horny teenagers. As soon as he gave the driver the address, Sawyer dragged Kelsie onto his lap so she straddled him, facing the back of the car. Her dress hiked to her hips, giving him full access to the gorgeous expanse of her thighs. He was hard as a damned rock, and she was riding him through two layers of clothes. Her hands cupped his face as she worked her tongue in his mouth, and he met her stroke for stroke. He coaxed her back and forth on his lap, dragging pleasure from the agony of not being inside her, while he tasted every crevice of her mouth and swallowed every moan from her gorgeous lips. When the kiss broke, he wasted no time closing his mouth on her breast through her dress. He tugged on her nipple with his teeth. She threw back her head and drove hard on his dick, paralyzing him.

“Fuck, Kelsie.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Not in the cab, babe.” He grinned and let go of her thighs to work her breast free, then softly licked the hard peak.

“Oh, God. More.”

He ignored the request, keeping instead to his gentle teasing. Just the tip of his tongue, the barest of touches, and she was shaking in his arms. He loved that. He loved it more when she reached to cup her own breast, tweaking the arousal there. It was his undoing. Bad at sex, his ass. He sucked her in, biting and tugging and dragging his tongue over her hot flesh until she trembled and he’d nearly come in his pants.

He had no idea how they got back to their apartment building so quickly. Or maybe it had taken forever. He handed the driver a handful of cash and got a wink in return. He and Kelsie tumbled out of the car and into the building, and he was damned grateful they had the elevator to themselves.

The door hadn’t even closed all the way before he had her against the wall. She had both hands in his hair, and his were everywhere else. Her thighs, her waist, her breasts.

“Oh, God,” she muttered. The wrong damned tone of voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just like all those other floozies you’ve done in the elevator.”

He froze, then retreated just a little. Just enough to look her in the eyes. “You are nothing like those women. Nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s one of your lines.” She offered a weak grin.

“No. Wanna know why?”

“If you have proof…”

“Well, first of all, I’ve never made it past the first date without having some kind of sex.”

“This is charming.”

“Second, I’ve never made it to the fourth date at all.”

“No less charming,” she said dryly.

“Third, I’ve never gone to the fucking opera for anyone. And I’d go again just for what happened in the cab ride here, and if that doesn’t tell you what you need to know, then I’ve got nothing.”

A grin teased her lips. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got something.”