Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(127)

His jaw dropped when she blew into the room, an absolute f*cking vision—artfully tousled hair, fancy makeup and a lavish skintight turquoise dress that matched her eyes.
“Sorry. I thought about having you meet me at Petra’s, but that wouldn’t be fair…” Ava’s eyes narrowed on him, sprawled in the sitting area, in his boxer briefs, drinking a beer and watching classic ESPN. “Chase? Aren’t you going to the party with me?”

“Of course I’m goin’ with you.”

“Then why aren’t you ready?”

He drained his beer. “I am ready. I showered. Shaved. I was waiting to get dressed.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Does it matter?”

He watched her struggle with her answer. Finally she gifted him with that mega-watt star smile. “As much as I love to see you undressed like that, cowboy, it is a little informal. So maybe you oughta cover up all those muscles so female party goers aren’t drooling on you.”

“Such sweet bullshit.” Chase retreated to the bedroom and yanked on new jeans, buttoned the white shirt, added his championship belt buckle, slipped on his boots and hat.
All in under two minutes.
“So? Do I pass?”

She nodded, and returned her focus to two pairs of shoes. One pair, four inches high, were a funky shade of shiny yellow patent leather with turquoise stitching. The other pair, were flats, fancied up with flowers, but were nowhere near as hot as the stilettos.
“Problem?” he asked.
Ava fingered the yellow heels. “I love, love, love these Louboutins. They are so perfect with this dress, but…” She looked up at him and put on a too-bright smile. “But these will be fine. I’ve gotten used to wearing flats the past few weeks.”

Damn woman was willing to give up wearing her fancy new shoes so she wouldn’t tower over him in public? That’s when Chase knew that she loved him.
He pointed at the yellow pair. “Wear them.”

“But—”

“Ava. It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

She squealed when she slipped them on. “Have I mentioned how much I love them?”

“A time or two. Let’s go.”

“Wait. There’s something I forgot to tell you. We made the papers today. Evidently someone told the media I’ve come out of hiding, so there are photographers hanging around.”

“I noticed.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and opened the door. “But I handled it.”

A look of horror crossed her face. “You didn’t, like, beat them up or anything?”

“I ain’t a total redneck,” he chided.
Any photographers around the hotel were discreet; he half expected popping bulbs everywhere.
Ava seemed nervous, which was a switch because he wasn’t a bit nervous.
He took her hand. “What’s goin’ on, sweet thang?”

“Although it’s been a few months since the thing went down with Jake, this is the first social event I’ve attended with industry professionals.”

“I thought these people were your friends?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” She sighed. “Sorry. I’m sure my poor little rich Hollywood girl whine is getting old.”

“Never apologize for how you feel. None of us has to walk in each other’s shoes.” He smirked and pointed to her feet. “And no f*ckin’ way do I ever wanna walk in them babies.”

She smiled. “You always make me feel better. Make me feel normal, no matter what I tell you. I just don’t want to spend the whole night fielding questions about the Jake debacle or tell anyone where I’ve been the last few weeks.”