Chapter Fifteen
“Friendship bread. That’s a misleading name if I’ve ever heard one,” Jessie muttered as she took another loaf of sweet bread from the oven. An elderly neighbor woman had come to visit one frosty January morning with a resealable bag full of something she called friendship bread starter and a handwritten note card with instructions how to make the bread.
Jessie thought the woman was being kind, welcoming her to the neighborhood with the bread. In the weeks since then, she decided the woman hated her and had invented some yeasty torture device meant to drive her mad. At least that was the conclusion she’d arrived at after baking yet another loaf of the cinnamon-laced bread.
The first loaf she’d made, following the woman’s directions, had been delicious. The second one had been good. The third she gave to Lucas and Lori then palmed off the fourth and fifth on the hired hands.
She’d tried to give loaves of bread and starter to Kenzie and Kaley, but they refused to accept it, saying they’d already gone down the friendship bread rabbit hole and had no plans to return.
Jessie had searched for other recipes that used the starter and ended up with muffins, cakes, and more bread.
If she never smelled, tasted, or saw another loaf of friendship bread, it would be too soon. She had no idea what to do with it all. She’d put it in the freezer until it was full. Her glare traveled over the three loaves cooling on the counter along with a batch of muffins.
She’d just brushed the back of her hand across her cheek to get a stray wisp of hair out of her face when the back door opened and she heard the sound of boots crossing the mudroom floor. Assuming it was Lori, Jessie grabbed a piece of foil and wrapped up a loaf of bread, hoping she could foist it off on the woman. She turned around with the bread in her hands as the mudroom door opened and watched Chase step inside.
Shocked by his unexpected arrival, she gawked at him. More handsome than she remembered, his intense hazel gaze connected with hers as sparks snapped between them. He must have spent some time in the sun because his skin appeared tan while his blond hair looked streaked and lighter than when he’d left in January. Apparently, they didn’t have a barber on the rodeo circuit, because his hair was far longer than she remembered. In fact, the longer length only made her battle the desire to run her fingers through the thick blond strands.
He must have forgotten to pack his razor because he sported a bushy blond beard that obscured her view of his square jaw and the little brackets that formed around the left side of his mouth when he smiled.
Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, and long legs captured her interest as she continued gaping at him. Mindful of her ogling, she set the bread on the counter and gathered her wits.
“Hi,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Hi,” he replied, smiling as he crossed the kitchen floor. He appeared a little uncertain as he stopped in front of her, but leaned over and kissed her cheek. When he stepped back, heat flickered in his eyes. “You smell like roses and cinnamon. What are you baking?”
“Hate you bread.” Jessie spun around and washed her hands at the sink.
Chase chuckled. “Hate you bread? What in the world is that?”
Jessie glanced at him over her shoulder as she scrubbed dough from beneath her fingernails. “The proper name is supposed to be friendship bread, but I have arrived at the conclusion that you only give the bread starter to people you hate. The bread making begins innocently enough, but then it multiplies faster than a barn full of rabbits. The next thing you know, it’s taken over your life.” She waved a hand around the kitchen. “Even if, by some miracle, the person who gave me the starter doesn’t hate me, I well and truly hate this bread.”
“Do you think I could get a taste of hate you bread?” Chase sidled up beside Jessie and she had to fight down the urge to lean closer and inhale his delicious scent.
Instead, she cut him a thick slice of bread and set it on a plate then poured a glass of milk. She set his snack on the table and quickly made herself a cup of tea before taking a seat across from him.
She didn’t realize she was staring at him again until he raised his eyebrow and grinned. “Do I have food on my face or something?” He took a napkin from the basket she kept on the table and wiped at his face.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just nice to see you.” Embarrassed, she ducked her head and sipped from her tea.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” he said, finishing the bread in a few bites.
Jessie hopped up and cut him another slice, and refilled his milk glass. “I, um… didn’t expect you for a few more days.”
“I know. I decided rather than drive home, I’d fly. My pickup and gear are in Austin, Texas. I’ve got a rodeo there at the end of next week.”
“Did you rent a car?” she asked, trying to see out the window, but wasn’t able to crane her neck far enough to see what he’d driven.
“Mike picked me up,” he said, taking another drink of his milk.
Jessie experienced a little prick of jealousy, but she hid it behind another sip of tea. “I would have been happy to give you a ride from the airport.”
Chase reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I know you would have, but then I couldn’t have surprised you. It’s not every day I walk into my house to discover a beautiful woman coated in flour grousing about hate you bread in my newly redecorated kitchen.”
Purposefully ignoring the jolt of electricity shooting up her arm at Chase’s touch, she looked around the kitchen. With the help of her friends, she’d finished decorating it the previous week. Kaley McGraw had helped her hang the new light fixtures and offered ideas on the decor. Her husband, Cort, and Tate Morgan installed the new pantry doors.
Jessie was pleased with the way the kitchen had turned out, but she hoped Chase would like it. “What do you think?” she asked, wary of his reaction.
“I think it looks like a real farmhouse kitchen,” he said, getting up from the table and walking around the spacious room. “I like the paint color,” he said, pointing to the soft green walls. The color looked inviting, especially contrasted against the white cupboards and gray granite counters.
Jessie smiled. “It’s called Farm Fresh.”
A chuckle rolled out of him. “That’s appropriate.” He looked upward to one of three hanging pendant lights made from the top half of old milk cans hanging on heavy chain links. “Those are cool.”
“Kaley McGraw helped me quite a bit. We found the milk cans at a junk store and she talked Cort into cutting them for us.”
“Wow. That’s awesome. I’ve never seen anything like them.” He turned and took in more of the work she’d done. “I really like the pantry doors,” Chase said, pointing to what appeared to be two barn doors that rolled on a slider fastened to the wall above the pantry. He’d left the walk-in pantry open because he rarely had company and didn’t know what he wanted to do for doors. “Barn doors are perfect.”
“I’m glad you think so. I found those in a pile of old lumber and stuff out behind the machine shed. Lucas said I could use anything I wanted from that pile.”
“They look really good, Jessie. And Lucas is right. You can use anything you want from all that old stuff.”
In addition to painting the walls, upgrading the light fixtures, and adding pantry doors, she’d also incorporated unique little touches throughout the kitchen, like a paper towel holder made from chicken wire and a galvanized tin. She’d also painted old canning jars with milky paint and set them inside a little wooden crate. Whisks, spatulas, and mixing spoons filled the jars. There was even a wreath hanging on one wall, and several pieces of art made from what appeared to be recycled and repurposed vintage tools. Ruffled burlap valances hung over the windows, completing the look.
The kitchen had a homey, welcoming vibe with a definite country feel.
“Do you really like it?” she asked, hoping Chase wasn’t trying to keep from hurting her feelings. It was his place, after all, not hers.
“It’s great, Jessie,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist and giving her a hug. “Thank you for all your hard work.” He pulled back and grinned. “What else did you do while I was gone?”
“Come on. I’ll show you.” She took him on a tour, pointing out the pre-made closet units she’d installed in the mudroom. One wall that had previously held a few hooks for his coats and hats now had a full-length closet with cupboards, drawers, and counter space. A long shelf made of old barnwood provided a place for Chase to leave his hats while hooks beneath the shelf held coats and jackets. A portable barnwood double shelf lined with removable rubber mats held boots and shoes.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to make this place neat and organized,” Chase said, admiring how good the mudroom looked. No more piles of boots or too many coats crowding the few hooks by the door.
“There’s plenty of storage space,” Jessie opened the closet doors and cupboards, “for everything you had piled around back here.”
“It looks good, Jessie. Thank you. And I like that you painted the walls to match the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I had a lot of help.” She stepped back into the kitchen, and then grinned over her shoulder. “Cort and Tate said you owe them a good steak dinner in trade for all their work.”
“I think we can make that happen.” Chase followed Jessie down the hallway to the front of the house. “Did Kenzie have the baby yet?”
“No, she’s due any day, though.” Jessie laughed softly. “For all of Tate’s fussing, you’d think this was their first baby instead of their second.”
Chase nodded and moved into the large gathering room. Jessie had balanced the heavy, dark leather furniture by leaving the walls white, but added bright pops of color in the form of pillows and a throw rug that matched the Pendleton wool blanket he’d wrapped around her the day of the photo shoot.
She’d added a few baskets made of coiled rope, and decorated the built-in bookcases with western items like his old spurs and horseshoes. He glanced at the aqua and deep orange throw pillows on the couch. It would never have entered his mind to combine the colors, but the contrasting hues looked great, especially against the brown leather of the cushions.
An old milk can stood in one corner, filled with wheat and native grasses.
The wall across from the fireplace held more than a dozen photos of varying sizes, all mounted in the same style of barnwood frames. Chase recognized photos of him as a boy on his grandparents’ ranch. There were pictures of him at his first high school rodeo, others of him competing professionally. And there were three photos of him with Jessie. One was taken at their wedding where they both looked uncertain, yet interested. A second photo was a candid shot of them Ashley snapped when Chase had told a joke that made Jessie laugh. They both looked happy, like good friends.
However, it was the third photo that brought him up short. Taken the day of the photo shoot in January, they stood facing each other right after he’d wrapped the heavy blanket around her to ward off the chill. Her head rested against his chest and his arms encircled her waist, drawing her closer, while he pressed a kiss against her hair. Snow fell around them, giving the photo a magical quality, but the undeniable aura of love held his gaze. Their feelings were written plainly in the looks on both their faces.
Love? That was crazy, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly be in love with his wife. She wasn’t in love with him, was she? Nah. Of course not. She’d probably only been relieved to soak up his warmth for a few minutes before the photographer posed them again. That had to be it.
He studied the image and decided he’d imagined things that weren’t really there. “The room looks great, Jessie. The photos are a nice touch.”
She smiled and adjusted one frame that hung slightly off center. “Ashley sent a bunch of photos. I just thought it would make the room appear homey. If you’d rather I remove the photos of us together, I have images of you I can stick in those frames.”
“No!” Chase shook his head as his gaze lingered on the image of the two of them in the snow. The photo stirred things in his heart he wanted left alone, but the arrangement of photos was perfect to impress the reporter. “These are good to have for the interview. Don’t change a thing. You did good, Jess.”
“Thanks.” She looked everywhere but at him, then finally focused on his face. “I thought you had a rodeo this weekend and would head home on Sunday.”
“I decided I could use a little break. I kind of banged up my shoulder when I rode on Saturday and the doc there suggested I take a week or two off to let it rest. Normally, I’d ignore his advice, but since I was coming home anyway, I’ll give it time to heal.”
“You got hurt? Why didn’t you say anything when I talked to you Sunday night? I thought you were on your way to Arizona then, not Austin.” She glared at him with one hand fisted against her hip. “You should tell me these things.”
He offered what he hoped was an endearing grin and watched her face soften. “Maybe I should, but then I couldn’t see the surprise on your face when I show up a week sooner than you expected. Besides, I thought you might need help getting things ready for the photo shoot next week.”
“If a doctor told you to rest your shoulder, then that’s what I expect you to do,” Jessie said in a bossy tone Chase would have thought it impossible for her to possess.
He tamped down a grin as she continued to stare at him. “I’m fine. Now, tell me how your business is doing. I hope you aren’t spending too much time decorating my house and baking hate you bread to build up your business.”
Jessie grinned then led him down the hall to his office. Chase hung a few steps behind her, admiring the view she presented in a pair of snug blue jeans. The pink polka-dotted apron bow at the back of her waist making him think any number of crazy, husbandly thoughts.
It was going to be a long ten days if he couldn’t get a better handle on his feelings for her and keep them under a tight rein.
Jessie inhaled a deep breath outside Chase’s bedroom door. She’d meant to slip into his room and change the sheets on his bed earlier, only she’d forgotten. Right after he left back in January, she’d laundered the sheets and remade the bed, but she’d planned to place a freshly laundered set on the bed right before he returned home.
Although she knew she wasn’t his maid, she felt an obligation of sorts to make sure he was comfortable. At least that was what she told herself as she took another breath then raised her fist and tapped on the door.
“Come in,” he called in a deep voice that held a hint of surprise.
She cracked open the door and stuck her head inside the room. Chase lounged in bed with his back against the wall, wearing a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and nothing else. He held a book in his hands, as though he’d been enjoying a good story. A pair of black-rimmed glasses that would have looked nerdy on most men gave him a sexy professor air as he gazed at her. A slow grin spread across his face.
“What’s up, Jess?” he asked, slipping a piece of paper into the book to mark his place and setting it on the nightstand.
“Oh, I, um…” For the length of several heartbeats, Jessie couldn’t recall why she’d come to his room.
The sight of Chase reading a book, wearing those glasses, with that broad, muscled, tan chest on display obliterated her ability to think or reason. As her gaze traveled from his bare toes upward, she noticed the ugly black and purple bruise on his shoulder. In the middle of the swollen, discolored skin was a crescent shape that looked like a hoof print.
Without thinking about her actions, she moved across the room until she stood next to his bed. Her fingers grazed softly over the bruise, concerned by the heat radiating from it.
Chase gasped and she jerked her hand away, sure she’d hurt him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t…” she stammered.
He grabbed her hand in his before she could spin away and flee. “It’s okay, Jessie. I’ve had worse. Much worse.”
She’d assumed as much from the scars she’d noticed the first time she’d seen him without his shirt on. In the past few months, she’d learned enough about the rodeo to know all the athletes said it wasn’t a matter of if they’d get injured, but when. Regardless, it didn’t make it any easier to stand there and see the horrible bruise on Chase’s shoulder.
“Can I get you anything? An ice pack? Pain reliever?” she asked, wanting to do something to help him.
He grinned and kissed the back of her hand. “I’m fine, but thanks for asking. I would have just ignored a tiny bruise like this and kept on competing if it wasn’t for the interview thing.” He tipped his head toward the nightstand. “Thought I’d get in a little reading this evening.”
“You like to read?” she asked, pulling her hand from his and picking up the book. She hid her shock that it was a book on a current bestseller list, one she herself had been interested in reading but hadn’t gotten around to purchasing.
“I do, I just don’t always have time for it.”
She set the book down and grinned at him. “And you wear glasses. How did I not know this?”
“I only wear them when I’m reading. Since I don’t get to do that often, you wouldn’t have known. I’d appreciate you not making it public news that I wear them.” He started to tug off the glasses, but she grabbed both of his hands with hers.
“Don’t, Chase. You look completely different from the cowboy I first met, but good. Really good.”
Self-conscious, he shot her a speculative glance. “You should see me when I slip into my beach bum persona.”
She laughed. “Ashley told me you used to spend all your free time surfing. She said you were really good at it, then you decided you wanted to be a cowboy. You really are multi-faceted, aren’t you? Am I going to discover you are a five-star chef and have just been pretending you can’t cook anything besides a grilled steak? Or maybe you have a secret life as a musician. I’ve heard you singing and you have a great voice.”
The open look on her face along with her joking made him relax. “No, ma’am. I can’t cook worth beans, except for making a good steak. And other than church, you won’t hear me singing except maybe in the shower.” He quirked one eyebrow and gave her a suggestive look. “If you want to join me in there, I promise to serenade you.”
Jessie scowled at him and backed away from the bed. “No, thank you.” Aware he was teasing, she still felt the need to act affronted. On the other hand, a little part of her was flattered he’d make the suggestion.
“I’m sorry, Jess. I know you aren’t that kind of girl.” He reached out to her and caught her hand in his again, giving it a gentle squeeze. The contact jolted through her and weakened her knees.
Suddenly, Jessie wondered how much time Chase spent around girls who were that type. Even though they were married in name only, they were still legally married. Was he running around with other women? The thought of him holding hands or kissing another woman made jealous anger course through her with such force, she felt as though the breath had been knocked from her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting upright in the bed while he continued to hold her hand.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Not buying it,” he said, giving her hand a tug, pulling her onto the bed beside him. Before she could get up and leave, he looped an arm corded with muscles around her waist. “What chased away your smile?”
Assaulted by a wave of longing for Chase to hold her, to kiss her, to love her, Jessie looked away, trying to pull herself together.
When he reached out and cupped her chin with the hand not holding her waist, turning her face until she had no choice but to meet his gaze, she wanted so badly to kiss him.
Between the warm glow of his eyes behind those darned glasses and the concerned look settling over his features, her heart teetered on the verge of melting into a puddle right there on his bed.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, unable to draw herself away from the magnetic pull of her husband.
“Yeah, and I’m that five-star cook you teased me about a minute ago.” Chase offered her a lopsided smile that made her insides feel hot and liquefied. “Come on, wife of mine. Tell me what upset you. Surely I didn’t get myself into trouble just by sitting here and reading my book.”
The boyish pout on his delectable mouth coupled with the fact he’d released her chin and took her hand in his, rubbing tantalizing circles across her palm loosened her tongue as her doubts and fears spewed out in a rapid ramble.
“I know we aren’t married, truly married, but we are legally wed and I just wondered if you’ve been, if you have… if you have girlfriends you spend time with when you’re on the road. What you do is your own business, of course, but I…well, I just thought of the possibility and it, um… it bothered me a little.”
Mortified by the words that tumbled out of her mouth, Jessie tried to scramble to her feet, but Chase didn’t release his hold on her. In fact, when she glanced back at him, he stared at her as if she had three heads and all of them were nuts.
“Jessica Rose, look at me.” Chase waited until she reluctantly lifted her gaze to his. “I promise you that as long as we are married, there are no other girls. Not even one. No matter what you see or hear or think you know, I would never defile the vows we made. For the duration of this year, I belong to you, even if it is in name only.” The left side of his mouth kicked up in a rascally smirk. “But if you ever decide you want to be one hundred percent married to me, just let me know. I’ll gladly let you have your way with me anytime you’re ready.”
“Oh! You are impossible!” She jumped to her feet, ready to run out the door, but she bumped his shoulder in the process.
He grunted and she plopped back down beside him, repentant. “I’m so sorry, Chase. I didn’t mean to hurt you. What can I do to make it better?” She leaned toward him, eyes full of worry and anxiety.
Chase moaned in feigned agony and scooted down until he rested against his pillows while he held his shoulder steady with the hand of his uninjured arm. “Can you take off my glasses, please?”
Carefully, Jessie removed them and set them on the nightstand. “Do you want me to get some ice? Or would heat be better? No, probably ice, right?”
He whispered something she couldn’t hear.
“What’s that, Chase? I couldn’t hear you.” She leaned forward and her hair swayed over his chest.
She watched him shudder and started to move back, but he released his hold on his shoulder and slid his arm around her, splaying his big hand across her back, drawing her closer. “Would you kiss it better?”
“Kiss it better?” Jessie blinked twice, sure she’d misheard him.
When he groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut, appearing to be in misery, she tossed aside caution. Lightly, her lips skimmed across the edge of the bruise where the skin wasn’t quite as discolored or hot.
“More,” he said in a husky voice that spiked her temperature and turned her limbs languid.
Certain there was no wisdom in doing so, Jessie ignored the voice of logic in her head and pressed half a dozen feather-light kisses across his skin.
When she finished, Chase opened one eye and pointed to his mouth. “One more?”
“Really?” she asked in a soft whisper. “I think you’ve been playing me, Chase Jarrett.”
“Maybe,” he said, skimming his hand up her spine until his fingers burrowed into the hair at the nape of her neck. With the slightest bit of pressure, he pushed her head down until his lips grazed across hers.
Charged sensations rippled through Jessie when Chase wrapped both arms around her, holding her against his hard, solid form. The kiss exploded in a burst of fiery need fueled by a passion she had never experienced and couldn’t yet begin to understand.
Lost in the heated exchange, a last raveling thread of common sense or self-preservation, or perhaps a combination of the two, finally pervaded the fog in her brain. Abruptly, she jerked back, bumping Chase’s shoulder again in the process. This time, he gripped it in pain that wasn’t exaggerated and clenched his jaw.
Jessie raced into the bathroom and returned with a cold washcloth. After gently laying it over the bruise, she stood back and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you better behave yourself and stop teasing me like that.”
“Agreed,” he said in a tight voice. They remained silent as Chase worked to swallow down his discomfort.
She took the warm washcloth back to the bathroom and rinsed it in cold water. When she returned to his side and placed it on his bruise, she could tell exhaustion had kicked in. He’d relaxed his tense posture and his eyes appeared drowsy.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Chase. Sleep well, and welcome home.”
“Thanks, Jessie. It’s nice to be home.” He smiled as she backed toward the door. “What was it you came in here for? Did you have a question?”
“Oh, it was nothing. Good night.” Jessie stepped into the hall and shut Chase’s bedroom door behind her. She leaned against it until she was sure her wobbly knees would carry her upstairs to her room.
How was she supposed to be able to keep her thoughts straight when the handsome cowboy she married grew more appealing and irresistible by the minute?