to fully know just how deep his attraction still ran. Now, though, there was no distance. Their bodies were pressed against each other on the small glider, and he could feel the skin of her calf brushing against his knee.
He ached.
She sighed. A breathy, ragged sound as her fingers dug into his shoulders. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. The softness of her hair between his fingers on one hand, and softness of the curve of her thigh under his other hand.
He ached dammit.
Chase vaguely heard the sound of voices inside the house. Jo apparently did too, as she slowly backed away. Not wanting to lose her just yet, he chased her mouth again with his, caught her lips in one more far too brief kiss.
Jenn and Owen’s voices intruded again, closer now. Chase shifted in the seat, and he noticed that Jo did, too, and that her cheeks were slightly flushed. But she didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore. Thank God for that.
Sensing they were on borrowed time, he dropped a quick kiss on Jo’s forehead. She looked up at him, and he could see the relief, embarrassment and confusion mingling together on her face, knew she probably saw similar emotions on his.
And he ached.
~~*~~
Chapter Five
Jo woke the next morning with a pounding headache and a slightly queasy stomach. She shielded her eyes against the bright sunlight filtering in from her bedroom window and groaned.
How much wine had she had to drink last night?
She started to count, ended up at three glasses. God, she was a lightweight.
Then she remembered her conversation with Chase.
And almost threw up.
She breathed in through her nose. In. Out.
In.
Out.
Slow and steady like she advised her teens when they came to her panicky about test results. Of all kinds. Didn’t seem to matter if it was a math test or a pregnancy test—that simple four-letter word seemed to invoke panic like no other.
Had she really drunkenly spilled her guts to Chase last night? Her stomach churned in a resounding yes.
Fuck.
Jo sat up slowly and reached for the bottle of water on her night stand, opened it and drank slowly. Thinking back, she realized that part of the problem was that she probably hadn’t had enough water yesterday prior to drinking that favorite red moscato. Normally, three glasses spaced decently far apart would maybe make her tipsy, but not drunk.
Well, in all fairness she hadn’t really been drunk. Rather, she’d been in that place between tipsy and drunk where she was fully aware of everything she was saying but her tongue was just a little too loose to stop. Her thoughts had jumbled and jostled and pushed to get out, and they had.
She’d been tired of holding all that in, and Chase deserved the truth. Hell, she deserved the telling of the truth.
Jo finished the water and crawled out of bed, padded to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower before getting dressed. She joined Gran in the kitchen.
“There’s a plate warming for you in the oven.”
Jo glanced at the time. Eight-thirty. Her grandmother hadn’t been up and out of bed too long either, then. She bussed a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“You didn’t have to do that, Gran.”
Gran shook out her newspaper. “Eggs, bacon and biscuits with gravy. I put a few bottles of Gatorade in the fridge for you, too. Might be cool by now.”
Jo turned slowly, carefully placing her breakfast plate on the small eat-in breakfast table. “I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or thankful.” No use beating around the bush.
A hearty chuckle shook her grandmother’s body. “Just be thankful, young lady. I was young once, too. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself every now and then.”
Jo opened the Gatorade she’d snagged from the fridge, deciding to be thankful to her grandmother as the cool liquid wet her parched mouth. She sat, chewed thoughtfully on her eggs and swallowed. “You do know it’s only every now and then, right, Gran?”
Gran didn’t even
He ached.
She sighed. A breathy, ragged sound as her fingers dug into his shoulders. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. The softness of her hair between his fingers on one hand, and softness of the curve of her thigh under his other hand.
He ached dammit.
Chase vaguely heard the sound of voices inside the house. Jo apparently did too, as she slowly backed away. Not wanting to lose her just yet, he chased her mouth again with his, caught her lips in one more far too brief kiss.
Jenn and Owen’s voices intruded again, closer now. Chase shifted in the seat, and he noticed that Jo did, too, and that her cheeks were slightly flushed. But she didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore. Thank God for that.
Sensing they were on borrowed time, he dropped a quick kiss on Jo’s forehead. She looked up at him, and he could see the relief, embarrassment and confusion mingling together on her face, knew she probably saw similar emotions on his.
And he ached.
~~*~~
Chapter Five
Jo woke the next morning with a pounding headache and a slightly queasy stomach. She shielded her eyes against the bright sunlight filtering in from her bedroom window and groaned.
How much wine had she had to drink last night?
She started to count, ended up at three glasses. God, she was a lightweight.
Then she remembered her conversation with Chase.
And almost threw up.
She breathed in through her nose. In. Out.
In.
Out.
Slow and steady like she advised her teens when they came to her panicky about test results. Of all kinds. Didn’t seem to matter if it was a math test or a pregnancy test—that simple four-letter word seemed to invoke panic like no other.
Had she really drunkenly spilled her guts to Chase last night? Her stomach churned in a resounding yes.
Fuck.
Jo sat up slowly and reached for the bottle of water on her night stand, opened it and drank slowly. Thinking back, she realized that part of the problem was that she probably hadn’t had enough water yesterday prior to drinking that favorite red moscato. Normally, three glasses spaced decently far apart would maybe make her tipsy, but not drunk.
Well, in all fairness she hadn’t really been drunk. Rather, she’d been in that place between tipsy and drunk where she was fully aware of everything she was saying but her tongue was just a little too loose to stop. Her thoughts had jumbled and jostled and pushed to get out, and they had.
She’d been tired of holding all that in, and Chase deserved the truth. Hell, she deserved the telling of the truth.
Jo finished the water and crawled out of bed, padded to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower before getting dressed. She joined Gran in the kitchen.
“There’s a plate warming for you in the oven.”
Jo glanced at the time. Eight-thirty. Her grandmother hadn’t been up and out of bed too long either, then. She bussed a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“You didn’t have to do that, Gran.”
Gran shook out her newspaper. “Eggs, bacon and biscuits with gravy. I put a few bottles of Gatorade in the fridge for you, too. Might be cool by now.”
Jo turned slowly, carefully placing her breakfast plate on the small eat-in breakfast table. “I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or thankful.” No use beating around the bush.
A hearty chuckle shook her grandmother’s body. “Just be thankful, young lady. I was young once, too. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself every now and then.”
Jo opened the Gatorade she’d snagged from the fridge, deciding to be thankful to her grandmother as the cool liquid wet her parched mouth. She sat, chewed thoughtfully on her eggs and swallowed. “You do know it’s only every now and then, right, Gran?”
Gran didn’t even
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