Breathe (Colorado Mountain #4)(131)

As for me, I was concerned, definitely. But I felt that if I let that concern show, Chace, Dad, Mom and all my friends would get even more up in arms about it than they already were and they were seriously pissed. So I decided to leave Cesar and the rest of the Council alone, attend the meeting, put out petitions in the library, urge people to sign them and hope.

This wasn’t all I was in a dither about.

Chace nor his colleagues nor Deck had found out what had gone down with Malachi and whoever murdered Darren Newcomb had not been found. Although Chace didn’t talk with me much about either of these, I could sense both were disturbing him and this escalated daily.

Not to mention the fact that Chace didn’t seem at all thrilled about going to dinner with his Mom. He did, however, communicate with me that it wasn’t about me.

It was, “She is how she is and she’s gonna be a f**kuva lot more than she is, tryin’ hard to make you like her. Head’s up, darlin’, this will not be fun in any way.”

I already knew this from the way he talked about her and I didn’t share that I thought it was sweet that he worried about her and me. It would be what it would be. Then it would be over.

This led me to the last part about why I was in a dither.

This being that I was wearing a little black dress, my first little black dress ever. Lexie, Laurie and Wendy went shopping with me to get it (and more sexy undies and little nighties to stock me up, Chace had seen all my others, repeatedly).

It fit like a glove from below my br**sts to the top of my knees with a slit up my back nearly to my behind. It had tiny little sleeves created by panels that attached to the empire waistline and went up over my shoulders. My back was totally covered but in an enticing vee created by the panels, cle**age showed. I had a pushup bra that enhanced the cle**age and was seriously sexy to boot.

Further, at lunch I’d gone to Carnal Spa and stylist to all Carnal babes, Dominic had given me a new hairstyle. He didn’t take much off the length but he cut in choppy layers that gave my hair what he called, “Personality and flow, dah-link.” It was layered along my neckline and he’d cut a thick, long, sassy bang in. He did a lot of sifting his fingers through my hair and I bought some goo he told me would “separate and define” so it would lay “perfect”.

I had to admit, I thought it looked fantastic. I didn’t look like the shy, virgin, town librarian anymore. I looked like the stylish town librarian who was regularly getting banged by the town’s hottest cop.

I was also wearing a pair of sex on heels, strappy, stiletto, gold sandals that even turned me on wearing them.

Lexie, Laurie and Wendy assured me the entire getup was elegant, classic and stylish.

Standing by my wardrobe taking in all that was me in the mirror on the back of the door, not just my shoes, my dress and my hair but also my smoky makeup, I wasn’t so sure.

Yes, it was elegant, classic and stylish. It was also sexy as all frak and I wondered not only what Chace’s Mom would think of me but also Chace.

Especially the hair.

He told me flat out he loved my hair but he didn’t have to say that. He was always finding reasons to touch it, tuck it behind my ear, move it over my shoulder, run his fingers through it. It wasn’t like it was no longer there. It was just that it was… different.

There was a knock at my door, I jumped and whirled toward it, my brows drawing together.

Chace never knocked since he had a key.

I looked at the thin, graceful, gold watch on my wrist that my parents gave me when I graduated from college and saw that Chace was early.

Then I went to the door, flipped the deadbolt and pulled it open, asking, “Did you forget your key?”

My eyes went up, up, up and I found myself staring at Chace’s best friend, Deck.

I had met Deck, once, at the hospital when Malachi was brought in.

Therefore, I was in no state to appreciate all that was him.

Now that there was no drama at hand I had the opportunity to appreciate all that was him and we’ll just say there was much to appreciate in quantity and quality.

“Babe,” his deep, rumbling voice tumbled down at me, “before you open the door, you should ask who’s there.”

I blinked.

His eyes moved from my hair to my coral painted toes back up to my hair.

Then he muttered, “Fuck.”

“Uh…” I muttered back.

His eyes did a head to toe to head again and he repeated, “Fuck.”

So I repeated, “Uh…”

He seemed to jolt himself out of his stupor and his hazel eyes came to me.

“Got a minute?”

Actually, at my calculations I had twelve but that didn’t mean I was fired up to have my boyfriend’s seriously hot guy best friend in my house for a surprise visit.

“Sure,” I told him and stepped back.

He moved in, all of him, all his height, his muscled bulk and his mess of seriously longish, thick, dark hair. He didn’t need a haircut two weeks ago. He needed it two months ago. It curled and flipped around his ears and down to the collar of his jeans shirt, a heavy hank of it resting on his forehead falling past his eye.

I’d had the not frequent, but also not rare, always happy occasion to reach out and tug at Chace’s curls and those occasions had included when he was in his truck beside me, on the couch beside me and in bed beside me. When I gave into this whim, it bought me one of three responses. Chace’s lips would tip up but he’d otherwise ignore it (driving). He’d turn to me and smile (on the couch). Or he’d turn into me and kiss me hard (bed).