But I had not one thing to wear on a date at The Rooster walking in on the arm of all the beauty that was Chace Keaton.
My mind quickly flipped through my options and this time, it settled on Lexie.
Krystal wore tank tops even in the winter. She might put a cardigan over them if she was heading outside, but even when it was super cold, that was all the effort she put into covering up and keeping warm.
Lauren always looked good. She used to be some executive but it was clear since she hit Carnal she’d embraced the biker babe lifestyle. This included her wardrobe if, compared to the vast number of other biker babes who lived in the vicinity, she injected a healthy dose of class.
But Lexie used to be a buyer at a department store. She wore high heels all the time, even high-heeled boots in the winter. Her husband was not a biker, he was a mechanic. A mechanic who owned a Dodge Viper and lived in one of the swank condos in the hills on the south end of town. Not to mention they were currently moving into an enormous house in an even more swank development in the eastern hills. I didn’t see him often but when I saw him with Lexie, he didn’t look like he could be in a beer ad. He looked like he could grace the cover of GQ. So Lexie didn’t embrace biker babe chic or mountain girl cute comfort. She always, but always, looked phenomenal.
So I hoped she was free to go with me to the mall that night on an emergency mission.
“Incoming,” Chace muttered as I made mental plans with Lexie and took a sip of my latte.
My eyes snapped up and I saw the boy stealthily rounding the building. I noted immediately even from our distance that the eye wasn’t swollen anymore, the bruises were fading but not gone and the cut on his lip was still noticeably angry. He’d received a thrashing. Over a week and the evidence was still there.
The only thing that made me feel better about this was he was wearing the coat I gave him, the hat and the new jeans. But it was nippy. He really should put on the gloves and scarf.
I watched as he took his time and, as he did, he looked through the lot and surprisingly straight at the spot I’d been parked in yesterday, like he expected to see us there.
Like he’d seen us there yesterday.
Strange. Very strange. So strange it sent my body sliding toward Chace’s. My shoulder bumped his and, without taking his eyes off the boy, his arm shoved behind me and rounded my waist.
My hand went out and my fingers curled around his thigh.
We watched in silence as he approached the bags, crouched by them but he didn’t take time to dig through. He just grabbed them and motored to the back of the library, around and he was gone.
“Made us,” Chace muttered and I turned my head to look at him.
“What?”
He dipped his chin and twisted his neck to look at me, it hit me then how close he was but I didn’t move back.
Not a centimeter.
“Made us even before he grabbed the shit yesterday,” he answered. “My guess, just now, he scouted the area, didn’t see us on the street so he made his approach from the direction he came from. This means he led me off-track yesterday. He approached from the front, left around the front, headed toward town. Approached from the back this time, thinking we aren’t here. Wherever he goes, he approaches the library from the back.”
“Um… aren’t you going after him now?”
He gave my hip a squeeze, I read the command, pushed back into my seat and Chace looked out the window, his profile contemplative while answering.
“No. Want him to feel safe. Don’t want him to think it’s a trap. He needed that shit yesterday. He knows he can outrun us or lose us. He saw us before he even returned the books. Maybe he knew he could get away, didn’t want to waste the effort of walkin’ here from wherever to return the books. Maybe he thinks we’re no threat. No f**kin’ idea. But now, I think we should keep a distance, keep givin’ and hope he takes you up on your invitation and gives back. Writes a note. Gets comfortable. Gets to know you. Maybe he’ll approach us.”
This sounded like a good plan.
Or at least it did until Chace hissed, “Fuck,” with a lot more emotion than he’d been talking with a mere moment before.
“Chace?” I whispered but his eyes didn’t leave the library.
“Saw it yesterday, saw it clearer today,” he replied.
“What?”
His eyes turned to me and I caught my breath at the anger I read in them. I was stunned that his seemingly mellow mood had shifted in an instant.
“His face, Faye. That’s a week of healin’.” He shook his head and his gaze moved back to the library on another, “Fuck.”
I reached out a hand and curled it on his knee, leaning into him, whispering, “Chace.”