Chase Me (Paris Nights Book 2)(61)

She laughed again, as if laughing was easy now, even with a bullet wound through her torso, and a broken hand, and burns, even with terrorists to fight. “Can I meet your grandma?”

He beamed. She wanted to meet his family! “Of course. You’re going to love her. Almost as much as you love me.”

He peeked at her hopefully.

She held up her splinted hand and brought the index and thumb so close together paper couldn’t pass through them. “You mean this much?”

He frowned at her.

She widened her thumb and forefinger a millimeter. “This much?”

“Violette Lenoir.”

She held up both hands, about ten inches apart. “This much?”

He took her wrist and stretched one arm as far out as it could go without pulling on her wound. The other was limited by the bed.

“I don’t know,” she said judiciously. “Seems a bit much for a man whose real name I don’t even know.”

“Oh, shit.” He’d forgotten about that. He clapped his hand to his face. “My name’s going to be on the marriage certificate. Isn’t that enough?”

“Or even know for sure what he does for a living.” She gave him an assessing glance, and her eyes glinted with mischief. “Rangers, maybe? Delta Force?”

Chase gave her a puzzled look. “Are those soccer teams or something?”

“Probably Delta Force,” she decided, her eyes full of mirth. “Those guys are the best, right?”

“They’re what?”

“Almost as good as the British SAS or the 2e REP commandos.”

Chase narrowed his eyes at her, fulminating.

But he didn’t really care, because she looked so alive and happy now that she was teasing him, and all that zing was back, but with this underlying solidity, this sense of hey, we’re going to really try to make this work. She’s in it to win it with me, too.

And when Vi was in something to win it, he was pretty sure she didn’t lose very often.

She grinned now, so full of herself to have provoked him. “Do you even remember you have a small trident tattooed high up on your left shoulder? Are special ops supposed to have identifying tattoos?”

No, but he’d been nineteen and bursting with pride, and so far none of his commanding officers had insisted he have it lasered off.

“You were looking at my naked body?” He clapped his hands to cover his nipples, horrified.

And she giggled so hard. Giggled like a girl, a young girl, who only ever knew happiness.

I love you so damn much, Vi. You don’t get it yet. We’re lying here, wounded from a terrorist attack, and we can be this happy, just because it’s the two of us.

He drew a deep, deep breath and let it out in an exaggerated sigh of defeat. He glanced around to make sure Elias and Brandon hadn’t come back. He leaned in close to her ear and ow, that pulled at his wound, but he couldn’t risk saying this out loud. “It’s…Chester,” he whispered.

“Chester?” she said out loud, with that erotic precision and rolled R of hers.

“Shhh.” He waved his hands frantically.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“For God’s sake, you people don’t know anything about names here in France, do you? I’d better name our kids.”

“It does sound a little…presidential, maybe, for you.”

“We’ll consider it our safe word. If you ever say it out loud, I will instantly stop making love to you and go out for a run or something to rid myself of the horror.”

She laughed.

“No, seriously, Vi. I mean it. My name is Chase. I stopped answering to anything else when I was four. Chase Alvarado-Callihan, to be exact. Lenoir is going to be so much easier to spell.”

“You’re so damn cute,” she said helplessly.

A little smugness settled in his body. It was good to be cute. “Now you have to love me to the moon and back,” he said. “You said the name was all that was stopping you.”

She rested her hand against his cheek, splint and touch of callused fingers. Her face softened. The humor slid away, but all the happiness stayed, and it was the most radiant, warming thing. “I’m pretty sure I will.”





Chapter 18


Bold, squarish letters:

How about April for a date? The bluebonnets in Texas are beautiful then.

Under it, a drawing of two entwined wedding rings, and the signature, Chase.

A cell phone number under his name.

Vi looked up at Chase. Who was actually blushing a little bit. “You wrote that the first night?”

They had just been released from the hospital, their first evening back in her apartment. Police security protected the door to the building. Chase’s identity had been kept out of the papers, but Vi’s was all over the place, and it turned out being a national hero drew an overwhelming amount of attention.

“It was three in the morning,” he said defensively. “And you have no idea how hot you are. I was sexually depleted and possibly sappy.”

“And right after that, you went and had my restaurant shut down without even warning me?”

His shoulders sank. “To keep you safe,” he said.

She glared at him.

“To keep the world safe,” he corrected. “And all your staff. And all your guests.”