“You’re not out.”
“I am. Mostly. Sort of.” Chase sighs and tilts his head to the side. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I know it can be. But I’ve got a lot going on with my brother and his campaign, this job, and the farm. So complicated isn’t really my thing.”
“Fair enough,” Chase says but he isn’t hiding the disappointment in his voice. “I figured with the band thing now too, it’s probably best if we keep it simple.”
“Sounds like a plan.” A shitty one, but life can be that way sometimes. I give him a smile filled with as much disappointment as his voice was. “Well now you can use my number to text me about band practice. So at least I didn’t waste a perfectly good piece of paper.”
“Yeah. True.” I move past him, almost having to step off the sidewalk to do it. Chase has such broad shoulders but a lean, narrow waist. I’m bummed I won’t get to see more of it. Even if I play with the band, it’ll be better to avoid the hot tub after parties going forward. He pivots and follows along beside me. “I parked this way.”
I nod. The air around us is cool and crisp and as sobering as the conversation. “I don’t want you to think that it wasn’t… that I didn’t enjoy the other night. If your brother hadn’t called, I’d have been open to a lot more than that kiss.”
“You don’t have to placate me. I don’t have a wounded ego or anything,” I reply and give him a sideways smile. “I’m fairly confident my kissing skills are much better than my bartending ones.”
Chase laughs. “I definitely don’t think I have to give you tips. It’s all I’ve thought about for a week.”
My step slows a little. I mean, sure I don’t need his praise, but it’s still very nice to hear. “Me too.”
We’re a step away from Vino and Veritas, right in front of the alley next to the side of the building. The door is at the other side, past the front window. So why am I slowing down now? Because Chase is slowing down too. And his eyes are on me as his tongue slips out and wets his bottom lip. For some reason, that makes my legs feel heavy. I stop when he does. He tilts his head toward the other side of the road. “I’m parked over there.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
Neither of us moves.
“Bo! We’re getting slammed again!” Molly is suddenly calling to me from the open front door.
“At least something is getting slammed,” I mutter. It’s a juvenile joke but it gets me one of those sexy smirks Chase seems to be an expert at. “Night Chase.”
“Night Bowen.”
5
CHASE
I open the door to the law office at exactly three minutes to ten. I am not going to be late but you bet your ass I’m not spending a minute longer than I have to with these people. My family. The receptionist greets me with a genuine smile. “They’re all in the conference room. I know you know the way.”
“I do,” I reply. “Thanks Jeremy.”
“Do you want me to slip some bourbon into your coffee?” he asks and gives me a sympathetic smile. “I can do that for you. It’ll take the edge off.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I’ll muddle through without it.” I smile back. As much as I hate meeting every month with my family, I do like the law firm my grandfather picked to oversee his affairs after his death. It lacks the corporate, uptight vibe he always had. It’s simple, down-to-earth, and very Vermont.
I make my way to the back of the building and into the conference room. Just as Jeremy said, my family is all present and accounted for. Well, all the members that need to be, which is my father Charles, my mother’s sister Hilda, my brother Colin, and my cousin Amy. We are the group that my grandfather, former Vermont Assemblyman Ned McDaniels, declared in his will would run the charitable foundation he wanted created in his name.
“Hi all,” I say simply and take a seat across from my brother at the long table. Unlike everyone else in the room, I’m not wearing a suit. Both my brother and father are in suits, with ties. My aunt Hilda is in a crisp off-white linen pantsuit and Amy is in a similar one in a muted gray color. I wear suits to work almost every day but today, I threw on a pair of jeans, a wrinkled dress shirt I didn’t bother to tuck in, and a blazer. Just to piss them all off. Judging by the scowl on my dad’s face and the way my aunt Hilda’s eyes sweep over me while her brows pinch together, it’s working. Amy just rolls her eyes while Colin shakes his head.
“Do you need me to purchase you an iron for your housewarming gift?” Aunt Hilda asks curtly.
“I’ve been in the loft for two years now,” I remind her. “And you sent me a juicer.”
She makes a sound in the back of her throat. “Good thing I didn’t get you an ice machine. You would have wrecked that by now.”
And there it is.
Colin decides it’s his turn to lambaste me. “Do they not have dry cleaners in Vermont?”
He acts like he’s never set foot in the state when we used to spend a month every summer at our grandparents’ estate less than a ten-minute drive from this very building. “Is Iris joining us for this or should we just start?”
