Chapter Fourteen

Chase had seen a lot in his thirty eight years, but an air guitaring, slightly swaying, incredibly cute and sexy attorney belting out ‘Hot Blooded’ was definitely a new one for the list.

Ajax sat obediently at his side as Chase stood for a moment near one of the windows of the house, enjoying the view of Polly bopping around the family room singing and kicking an occasional leg in the air like David Lee Roth.

It was kinda hot, he had to admit.

In fact, there was just something about Polly Royston… Polly North, whatever. She’d definitely grown into a fine, fine looking woman – and obviously a smart and accomplished one at that.

There was something niggling at the back of his brain, though… some reason that he’d told himself to avoid Polly Royston after he’d left to join the Navy, but he couldn’t remember why…

Must not be important.

He smiled widely as Polly head banged several times then jumped about a foot in the air when she straightened, looked right at him, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

He jogged from the window to the front door and knocked loudly. “Polls? It’s me – Chase, and Jack is with me too. There’s no coyotes… let me in.”

Polly’s face appeared as a curtain was pulled aside on the door, and then he heard the lock slide free. “You…” Polly said, opening the door wider and admitted both man and beast, “scared the SHIT out of me. I thought you were a Peeping Tom, or a yeti or something!”

Chase looked down at himself then back to her. “I shaved yesterday – I don’t think I’ve crossed into yeti territory yet.”

Polly looked at him closely. “No, but from the inside with you in the dark? Definite yeti. Did you always have stubble? Was it always this smexy?”

Polly clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she’d said, and Chase bit back a laugh. 

“No, I didn’t, and yes, you did,” he said, tugging her hand free from her mouth. “Hi. Having a good time, partying with you, yourself and the 80s station?”

“I’m having a great night,” Polly enthused. “This station ROCKS!”

“Polly?” Chase asked, and then repeated louder when she ignored him. “Polly!”

“Hm? What?”

“How many bottles of merlot have you had tonight?” He asked gently.

Polly thought for a long moment. “Twenty seven… million.”

“Huh. That’s a lot,” Chase said.

“Well, I was cold, and the merlot was making me warmer, so I drank some more, and then I danced and I got really hot, and now I’m all hot and slurry, but this music is just…” she beat a fist into her chest. “I can’t stop the rhythm, Chase.”

Chase tried really, really hard not to laugh at Polly, who clearly was not accustomed to drinking, losing control, or if her outfit was any indication, dressing in layers for the weather. He noted that it was still pretty frosty inside the house, but the small fire she had going was putting out a bit of heat. Come morning, though, it was going to be frigid in here.

“How about if I work on that fire?” Chase offered, and Polly gave him a pair of rockin’ devil horns. He snorted with laughter, and then grabbed a poker to tease up the flames a bit.

“What prompted the party?” Chase asked casually, the fire licking at the fresh firewood he put in the hearth.

“I was going to start writing my Great American Novel,” she said sleepily.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t.”

Chase bit back a laugh. “Huh. Funny how that works.”

“So then I was cold.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I didn’t have any hot chocolate, so I went for the merlot.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then dancing seemed like a good idea.”

“And now?”

“Still a good idea,” Polly said bouncily. “We should dance!”

“I don’t dance.”

“You used to dance.”

“I never danced.”

“You sooooo danced,” she insisted, tugging on his hand and pulling him from his perch on the sofa. “Let’s slow dance.”

“Polly, I don’t dance,” Chase reiterated and Polly giggled.

“You used to dance while drinking. Or drink while dancing. Or something. We danced, and you don’t even remember,” Polly said with an exaggerated pout.

“No, I don’t remember,” Chase agreed, but swung her into his arms anyway, trying to hold her upright while she approximated the Lambada on his thigh.

Oh god, he thought. Either she needed to stop grinding right this instant, or they were going to have bigger problems on their hands.

Namely, a carnal relationship being witnesses by the coyotes and Jack the wooddog.

“Polly, Polly…” Chase tried, and Polly stopped short. “You’re making me crazy,” he whispered, and she smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Quit it.”

“Payback,” Polly said happily. “About time, too.”

“Payback for what?”

“Never you mind,” Polly said in a sing song voice. “I was dancy girl, and now I’m sleepy girl. Can I go to sleep now?”

Chase bit back an affectionate smile as Polly slumped in his arms as though suddenly boneless, and with exaggerated care, he helped her across the room and up the stairs, murmuring to her the entire time that yes, she could go to sleep, and no, no coyotes were going to eat her face off, and yes, the fire would stay lit for a while, and no, Jack couldn’t serve as a hot water bottle for her feet.

Gently, he laid her on the bed and tugged off the fuzzy slippers she was wearing, and squeezed his eyes shut as she tugged off her sweater, temporarily revealing her taut stomach as her undershirt caught the yarn. She righted her clothes, and then slumped back on the pillows, giving him a sleepy, totally sexy, totally endearing smile.

“Are you staying?”

Chase shook his head slowly, sorely tempted by the offer but knowing it would be a mistake of epic proportions if he did.

Those well righted clothes wouldn’t stay that way very long, regardless of whether she was married or not.

“Nah, Jack needs to get home to his own bed. I’ll stop by in the morning and see if you survived the night – and the hangover,” Chase said gently. “You need anything?”

“Who’s going to protect me from yetis and mooses?” Polly asked, her eyes suddenly snapping open.

“Doesn’t Parker still have a shotgun or two around here?” Chase asked. “You could use that.”

Polly nodded slowly. “Yeah, there’s one under the bed, but I don’t think it’s loaded, and I would be afraid to shoot it anyway. I guess if something breaks in, I’ll just hit them over the head with it.”

“Good plan,” Chase murmured, unable to stop himself from leaning over and pressing his lips tenderly to her temple. “Sleep well, kitten.”

Chase was sure she was asleep before he’d even latched the front door behind him.

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