But none of it seemed to matter right now.
"No," she said. "I’m free."
"Good."
There was a pause, just long enough for her to imagine the slow smirk spreading across his lips.
"Then let me take you out."
Savannah felt the flutter in her chest, the anticipation prickling at the edges of her skin. "Is that an invitation or a demand?"
Chase chuckled, low and smooth. "Would it turn you on if it were a demand?"
Her breath hitched, pulse skipping a beat. "Bold question."
"Honest question." He answered smugly.
She swallowed, hating how easily he got under her skin. Hating how much shefucking loved it.
"Well, I’ll let you come and pick me up. How about I text you this afternoon and let you know when to come?"
There was a beat of silence. Then his voice dipped lower, raspier, and so damn confident it sent a flush creeping up her neck.
"Careful, Savannah. You keep playing hard to get, and I might just have to make you beg."
Her stomach clenched, heat licking at the edges of her control. She opened her mouth to fire back, but nothing came out—just the sharp intake of breath that she knew he fucking heard.
His chuckle was slow, knowing. "I’ll be waiting. Don’t keep me waiting too long, sweetheart."
The call ended, but Savannah just lay there, staring at the phone, her heart thudding hard against her ribs.
She realized then,
She was in so much more trouble than she thought.
14
Sound of Us
Mallorywantedtoshop,and Savannah just wanted to walk around; at least that's what she told Mallory. Knowing that she was having Chase come pick her up in town, Savannah played it cool, but her heart pounded a little faster each time she checked her phone for the time. The anticipation was a slow burn, creeping into her bones with every glance at the clock, every brush of the warm evening breeze against her skin.
As the sun dipped low, Chase arrived, his truck rolling to a stop beside her. The sight of him, backlit by the golden hues of the setting sun, made her stomach flip. The moment she slid into the passenger seat, she felt it—that slow burn of something unspoken between them. The scent of leather and cedar filled the cab, mingling with something uniquely him.
They drove in silence at first, the kind that wasn’t awkward, just charged. Every glance out the window, every shift in his grip on the steering wheel, every breath felt weighted, like they were on the edge of something monumental. The winding road stretched before them, shadowed by towering pines and tangled branches that wove a canopy overhead. The golden light of dusk filtered through the trees, casting long, fleeting shadows. Then, the road shifted, turning into a gravel drive that seemed to go on forever, curving through dense woodland until the trees parted like a grand reveal.
Her breath caught.
The house stood against the dusk like something out of a dream. Midnight blue, two stories, its honey-oak stained shutters framing each window like a picture. The porch wrapped around the entire structure, stately columns standing tall beneath the soft glow of lanterns that flickered in the settling twilight. The matching colored door, strong and sure, was a stark contrast to the warmth spilling from inside. It wasn’t just a house—it was a home. His home.
She turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is your house?”
Chase smirked, his fingers drumming casually against the steering wheel. “Yes ma'am. It is.”
Savannah swallowed, the weight of that admission settling over her. This wasn’t the Chase she remembered—wild and untamed. This was something different. Something steadier. Something she wasn’t sure how to define.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, a mix of anticipation and nervous energy curling in her stomach.
As the truck came to a stop, he turned, his eyes locked on hers, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m cooking dinner for you.”
