Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(128)

Chase stiffened beside her.
“Not because I’m embarrassed, Sundance. But because our time on the road together was our time. I don’t want to share it with anyone.”

Her sweetness always caught him off guard. “So don’t.”

Petra’s place was a Park Avenue palace, marble floors, alabaster pillars, gilded wood, velvet and silk curtains, priceless tapestries on the walls and floor. The space screamed filthy rich, but it was cold. Unwelcoming.
So Chase was surprised Petra’s house wasn’t a reflection of her personality. Petra faked kissed him, cooed over his cuteness and whisked Ava away, leaving Chase alone.
Tuxedo-wearing waiters circled with trays with food that looked as if it’d been zapped by a shrink ray gun. What was this town’s fascination with miniaturized food?
He’d knocked back half of a stiff drink when Petra’s husband Arthur introduced himself and several of his friends. The men were fascinated by Chase’s occupation. More respectful about it than he’d imagined.
As Chase did more listening than talking, he appreciated the PR training he’d had over the years. This nodding and smiling was actually easier than sucking up to sponsors, trying to charm them out of their money.
Ava was ready to leave before him, but by the time they’d made the rounds, saying goodbye to everyone, he couldn’t wait to take a breath of fresh air.
Until he actually inhaled stanky-ass New York City air.
Their driver directed them to the right car, since the all the damn service cars lined along the curb looked exactly the same.
Ava slipped her shoes off first thing and sighed.
He’d never in a million years understand women and shoes. “So that was fun.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Now don’t take this wrong, but you didn’t have a problem fitting in with that crowd.”

“You’d expected I’d put my boots up on their Louis the Fourteenth furniture and challenge Arthur to a bare-chested wrassling match while swigging from a bottle of hooch?”

She laughed. “No. God, no. It just struck me as odd that you were more nervous to meet Ryan’s mom than some of the most powerful men in New York.”

“Those men have no power over me, Ava. But Ryan’s mom? Shit. He’d built me up to be a superhero, to the person who mattered most to him in his life. Meeting her and measuring up? That’s humbling stuff.”

Ava blinked at him.
Hell, was she…crying? “What?”

“You are such a beautiful man. Inside and out. Thank you for going to the party with me.”

“You’re welcome.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You are gonna feed me real food now, right?”

“Poor starving baby. Want to brave the cameras and eat out? Or order room service?”

“How about if you use some of that Cooper clout and get us a table at the hotel restaurant? You look too goddamn good to waste sitting on a bed in our suite.” He grinned. “But feel free to leave them shoes on later.”

After a leisurely meal, which turned out to be romantic and fun, even amidst a crowd, they returned to their room. Chase led Ava to the bedroom and stripped her slowly. Silently. When she was bare before him, he murmured, “I knew I’d find my Ava under here.”

Her eyes, always so expressive, were oddly wary when she whispered, “Am I really your Ava, Chase?”

“Goddamn right you are. The rest of this stuff—country boy, city girl—doesn’t matter. You understand that, right? I’m not here with you because you’re a celebrity, or because you’re rich. I’m with you because whenever we are, whether it’s in Wyoming or Nebraska or New York City, it feels right. When I’m with you, Ava, I feel like I’m where I’m meant to be.”