Chase Me (Paris Nights Book 2)(63)
Chapter 19
Healing
“What are you doing?”
“Planning a restaurant. I’ve got to do something while I’m convalescing. Besides, since I’m forced to learn delegation skills and how to run a restaurant while not being actually in it, I might as well put it to good use to expand to new horizons. And I’m internationally famous now. I’ve got backers. I’ve got ideas down for four more restaurants, but I’m thinking it’s probably better to open one at a time.”
“Have I mentioned how crazy I am about you?”
“What did I do this time?”
“You literally take a bullet, turn it into a convenient rung on your ladder, and keep on climbing. Nothing keeps you down.”
“Down’s not a fun place to be, to be honest. It’s pretty boring.”
“Let me see if I can keep you entertained.”
***
“Hard time sleeping?” Soft voice, in the dark.
“Oh, yeah.” Resigned. “I just see it, you know? All the time. See the muzzle start to point toward you, see that blood all over your chef’s jacket.”
“Yeah.” Very soft. “I know. I see things, too.”
No other words. Just the shifts of the sheets, the touch of skin, the sounds of holding on.
***
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I…nothing.”
“What does that mean? Why do you look so guilty? Let me see that notebook. Chase, if you’re planning another secret mission to destroy my restaurant without telling me…”
“No! Damn it, you have a suspicious mind. I’m thinking about what I would like to do when—if—I get out. I keep having this vision of an adventure sports organization that gets disenfranchised kids out on the slopes or up in the air, gives them a source of physical accomplishment and power and adventure that doesn’t come from violence.”
A little breath of a pause. A voice gone carefully neutral. “You’re thinking about getting out?”
“Well, I…it wears out your body, you know. Bullet wounds and constant joint impacts and all the other stuff. I’ll start feeling it in a few years. And I…I mean…if a man had kids, you know, he might want to…be there, and not…”
“Are you blushing?” A gentle hand in his hair. No splint on it now. The bone had healed faster than the recovery from the bullet.
“I’m a hardened warrior. I eat nails for breakfast. Of course I am not blushing. It’s possible I’m feeling overheated from thinking about pink peekaboo panties.”
“You certainly didn’t blush the first time you mentioned kids. About two minutes after you met me.”
“Yeah, but…Vi…it’s starting to become real.”
***
“Why do you get all the stuffed animals anyway? That’s just sexist.”
“Chase, they kept your identity secret. How would anyone know to send you stuffed animals? You’ll have to be happy with your medal.”
“Well, yeah, but…you got a medal, too, and growly bears from all the kids. It’s just not fair.”
Vi handed him a pink stuffed unicorn with big eyes.
Chase smiled and tucked against it like a pillow. “That’s much better.”
***
“Did you just look at that woman’s ass?”
“Vi! Of course not! I was just checking for concealed weapons! You know how alert I like to be to my surroundings.”
“Alert to your hot women surroundings.”
“It’s the first time we’ve been out in a while! I’m just trying to see how much fashions have changed.”
“In six weeks?”
“Besides, Vi, nobody’s ass can compare to yours. I could probably write a poem to your ass. We’ll call it ‘Ass, a haiku by Chase Smith, alias’.”
“Oh, purée.”
“Ass
High, firm, round, tempting
Inviting the touch of my hands
Also of my d—”
“Chase!”
“What, doesn’t that make five syllables?”
“You know everyone at the other tables can hear you, right?”
“Sorry, honey. I forgot you were so shy.”
***
“Tell me a story.”
“A story?”
“About you. Anything, really.”
“Well…once there was a young man who met this really hot blonde and decided he was going to get her. This woman was so hot that nobody could get her. So obviously she had to put him through some tests to make sure he was worthy. She threw knives at him, and he survived. She threw him into a deep river, and he survived. And then she thought, that was way too easy for him. He’s going to win too fast if I don’t think of something really hard. So she thought really evilly, and she figured out the very hardest thing to do for that man, and she said he had to do it: he had to wait. But he was strong-willed, and he was brave, and he was stubborn, and he did that, too. And then she had no choice. She had to keep her word. So…”
Vi buried her head in his side, laughing. There was really maybe nothing quite as perfect as two people stretched out on the same couch, on a quiet evening, tucked together. “But I meant a story I didn’t know.”