I felt the heat creep up my neck.God, Anna. Shut up!
But Chase made me nervous. Or maybe it was that I was comfortable. That was even more dangerous.
“We had a housekeeper, and Mason insisted I was not to interact with the…help.”My nose wrinkled at the last word. The memory of some of the arguments we’d had over his treatment of them made my stomach twist. I’d never thought of the staff members as beneath me, but Mason certainly did. And he made sure I understood the rules.
Chase’s lips twitched. “Feel free to wash any dishes while you’re here,” he teased.
For the first time in what felt like ages, I let myself smile. A real one. “I guess we’ll have to get some dirty, then.”
For a fleeting second, it felt like a decade hadn’t passed between us. But then reality came crashing back.
“I mean, not that I’ll be here long enough to create any. Of course, I’ll wash what I use, but?—”
“Anna…”
“I mean, obviously I can’t stay, I just?—”
“Anna.”
His voice had an edge to it. I snapped my eyes to his, semi-frozen by his tone.
Of course, he noticed it, and immediately he relaxed his stance. “You’re welcome here. I mean it.” His voice was gentler now, but his eyes held steady. “But I have to ask, whyareyou here?”
“I told you. I startled a deer and ran off the road.”
“That’s not the entire story, and you know it. Why were you out in that weather?”
I hesitated. “I was going to my parents.”
His jaw flexed. “Bullshit, Anna. You were headed away from their farm. I swear you’re welcome here. But why do I sense there’s more to the story than what you’re telling me? Are you in trouble?”
My hands began to tremble. I forced them to cross in front of me, pressing them tightly against my ribcage.
“Did something happen? Are your parents okay?”
A lump formed in my throat. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
As if he sensed my distress, Jack let out a soft whine and got up from the floor. He pushed his head underneath my palm, his fur warm and soft beneath my fingers. I spread them wide, scratching his silky coat, and focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Chase watched me carefully, his expression unreadable.
“You’re safe here,” he breathed. “Trust me.”
His words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. The pressure behind my eyes became unbearable, and before I could fight them, tears welled up and spilled over.
“Anna,” he whispered, and suddenly he was there, his gentle fingertips catching the tears.
Before I could stop him, Chase gathered me into his arms, never flinching as the dam burst. I soaked his shirt with my tears, probably mixed with snot. But all he did was run soothing hands up and down my back, a safe harbor in the storm.
Finally, the tidal wave of emotion slowed, and I managed to draw some shaky breaths. I pulled back, mortified to see the messy stains on his shirt.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” I pulled away and walked to the sink, where I grabbed a dishtowel. “Here, let me?—”
But Chase followed me, catching my wrist and turning me gently to face him. He pulled the towel from my fingers and tossed it aside. His hands closed around mine, gentle but firm.
“Anna, stop. It’s all right.”
His voice was steady, sure. His calmness helped me nod in agreement.
