Chapter 17
Most of the time, Chance accepted his role as outcast without complaint. He’d earned the strikes against him. Done little to change people’s perceptions of the bad boy who chased trouble like a hound chased a rabbit. But for just a second, he’d forgotten how badly his missteps affected the people around him.
When they reached the limo, he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Naomi sniffled as she wiped away a tear. “I’m horrified right now. No one should be talked to like that.”
“Technically, she was talking about me. And everything she said is true.” After so many meetings, saying the next words should have been easier by now. “I am a drunk.”
She grasped the front of his shirt. “Don’t say that. What happened last year isn’t who you are. This is who you are.” She pressed her forehead to his chest. “A man who would face down a self-righteous shrew of a mother because her cowardly daughter couldn’t face her down alone.”
Awed by her adamant defense of his undeserving character, Chance wrapped his arms around her. “You didn’t look like a coward when you burst out of that chair. For a minute there, I thought you were going to turn over the whole table.”
Naomi sniffed again. “I wouldn’t do that to my nieces.”
Even in anger, she thought of others first. Chance could learn a lot from this woman.
“Let’s go for a ride,” he said. “Victor is ours for the night. We might as well use him.”
Stepping away, she patted his shirt back into place. “You’ve done enough for me already. I should probably go home and figure out how I’m going to fix this.”
As far as Chance was concerned, Naomi shouldn’t have to fix anything. Regardless of what Dawn Mallard thought of him, she’d embarrassed and insulted her daughter tonight. If anyone needed to right some wrongs, it was her.
“Come on. I know the perfect spot. Nothing but tall grass and crickets chirping.” Lifting her chin with one finger, he brushed away a tear with his thumb. “Take a break from the world for a while, Nay. You deserve it.”
Dark lashes lowered as her eyes dropped to his mouth. “That does sound like a nice place to visit.”
Giving in to temptation, Chance pressed his lips to hers, gentle, demanding nothing. The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, but rekindled a yearning he’d buried deep the day she’d walked out of his life.
“Come with me.”
Her forehead brushed his chin as she surrendered. “Okay.”
Never in her thirty years had Naomi ever screamed at her mother. Not when she’d repeatedly invaded her privacy. Or embarrassed her in front of her friends. Or insisted on living with her the entire first week of Naomi’s freshman year of college. With a sigh of acceptance, she’d endured the constant meddling, judgment, and demands that were an unavoidable part of being Dawn Mallard’s daughter.
Tonight, that acceptance had come to an end. As the limousine traveled the streets of Nashville with the sun fading through the trees, Naomi held tight to Chance’s hand, replaying the episode with her family in her mind. What could she have done differently? She supposed making Chance’s appearance less of a surprise would have been a good place to start. A simple “I met someone and he’s coming to dinner” might have at least saved Neal from witnessing such an embarrassing scene. Naomi had been so set on derailing her mother’s plan, she hadn’t thought the whole thing through.
In truth, she’d been too focused on the concept of having a date with Chance, even a fake one, to concentrate on anything else. Which was not easy to admit. She hadn’t hated him in a long time, mostly thanks to a short stint in therapy. After Naomi had had three unexplained panic attacks in two months, April had convinced her to seek help. That led to therapy, where she’d learned the source of her problem.
Naomi was, as the therapist had put it, high-strung. She set high standards, both for herself and others, and she also internalized her emotions—anger, stress, fear, and sadness being the most brutal. Always willing to fix a problem, she’d endured the sessions, done the work required, and come out the other side significantly lighter. One of the weights she’d let go of was Chance. But no longer hating him hadn’t meant she’d forgiven him.
Regardless of the changes he’d made, the past remained an issue for Naomi. His sleeping with Martha had broken her heart, but his failure to apologize or explain had deepened the blow. Did she really want to know why, after all this time? Knowing wouldn’t change the past. Wouldn’t undo the ugly way they’d parted. And neither would dwelling on it, or holding grudges.
Considering her current situation—riding in a limo, hand in hand with the man in question—maybe forgiveness had finally come. Could it really be that easy? Nothing had been easy for Chance. If she’d wanted karma to bite him in the ass, Naomi had certainly gotten her wish. Look where he was today. A recovering alcoholic with a criminal record and a failing career, unless together they were able to orchestrate the greatest comeback of the decade.
Chance had served his penance. It was time to leave the past behind.
“You okay over there?” he asked, as if sensing a change.
“I am.” Naomi lifted their hands to place a kiss on his knuckles. “You’re a good man, Chance.”
He watched her with a cautious expression. “Some folks would argue with that.”
“Let them argue.” She leaned her head on his strong shoulder. “I know the truth.”
The moment Chance dropped a kiss on the top of her head, the dividing window descended. “Sir, there’s a gate ahead.”
“The chain isn’t locked. Just slide it off and pull on through.”
Lost in her own thoughts, Naomi hadn’t noticed how far they’d gone. There wasn’t a light to be found in any direction. Victor exited the car and she watched him cover the dusty ground to a wide gate.
“Are we trespassing?”
“Don’t worry. I know the owner.”
So they wouldn’t be arrested, but the statement did little to ease her mind. “Where are we? This looks like the middle of nowhere.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Chance reached above him and pressed a button, sending a section of the roof sliding forward. A thin pane of tinted glass did the same, revealing an expanse of sky quickly filling with stars. Pausing with a twinkle in his eye, he said, “Stars and crickets chirping, as promised.”
The sound was faint, but Naomi had no doubt the volume would increase as the night grew darker. The scent of honeysuckle and pine filled the car.
“That smells wonderful. How far did we drive?”
“Not far. We’re just south of town.”
Victor returned to his seat and moved them into a dark field. Tall grass brushed the car on both sides and an owl hooted in the distance. Naomi felt as if they were driving into the pages of a book. A children’s story, in which the moon might start talking at any moment.
“This is far enough,” Chance said, and their driver stopped the car. “Relax for a bit, Victor. We’re going to watch the stars.”
“Yes, sir.” The window slid back into place as Chance scooted to the edge of the seat.
“Well?” He watched her with raised brows. “You go up first.”
“Up where?”
“There.” He pointed at the sky. “Climb through the opening so we can lie on the roof.”
She would do no such thing. “Are you crazy? I’m not getting on top of this car.”
“Sure you are.” Taking her by surprise, Chance lifted her off the seat and through the sunroof before she could squeal in response. Once her bottom landed on the top of the car, he maneuvered himself through the opening and sat down beside her. “Now lie back.”
Naomi felt like a fool, perched atop a jet-black limousine in the middle of a stranger’s field—a stranger who was probably going to show up any minute, shotgun in hand, to chase off the trespassers.
“You have lost your—”
Before she could finish, Chance dropped back and tugged her with him. The moment Naomi’s shoulder blades hit the car, the air went out of her argument.
“Oh my gosh. This is gorgeous.”
“I know. That’s why I bought the land.”
“Wait.” Naomi leaned up on an elbow. “You own this?”
Chance pulled her back down. “Relax, Nay. Just breathe for a minute. Can you do that?”
Actually, she couldn’t. Which was why she’d failed at every attempt to meditate.
“Of course I can.” Willing herself to relax, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how to breathe. She just didn’t know how to breathe and not do anything else. “Victor is going to think we’re weird.”
Now Chance raised up on an elbow. “Good God, woman. It’s a simple procedure. Air in. Air out. Mouth shut.” Settling back, he slid his fingers through hers. “Try it again.”
Feeling like a scolded child, Naomi stuck her tongue out at the moon.
“I saw that.”
“Good for you.”
Seconds passed before she noticed Chance’s thumb rubbing back and forth on her hand. The touch soothed her, and soon the tension left her shoulders. Another breath and her back seemed to melt against the cool car. When Chance sighed beside her, she did the same, eyes locked on a pitch-black sky dotted with glittering lights.
“When I was a kid,” Chance said, voice quiet as if speaking in a sacred place, “there was a spot like this in the field behind our trailer. I used to hide out there when I needed to get away.”
Chance had never mentioned his childhood to her before. And in all the interviews she’d ever seen, he’d avoided the subject entirely.
Sensing an opening, she asked, “What were you getting away from?”
His grip tightened. “A lot of things.”
Turning to face him, Naomi watched a thick lock of hair flutter in the breeze. “Do you want to talk about it?”
No answer came for nearly a minute, and she feared he would close up again. Shut her out, the way he shut everyone out. And then he turned toward her.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Wayne Ransick was a son of a bitch,” Chance began, the words feeling good on his tongue. “He married my mom when I was six. By the time I was eight, she was a full-blown alcoholic.”
If Naomi had offered any pity, Chance would have stopped right there. Instead, she said, “Life with him must have been hard on her.”
Hard didn’t begin to describe it. “I’m pretty sure the first time he hit her was on their honeymoon. Shelly and I spent that week at Wayne’s sister’s house. She wasn’t much better than he was.”
“Where was Shelly’s mother?”
Chance debated whether or not to answer. Telling his own facts was one thing. Telling Shelly’s was another. He opted for vague.
“Not around. Anyway, by the time I was ten, I’d gotten pretty good at reading Wayne’s moods. I could tell when a beating was coming, and I’d find my spot out in the field.” He’d also hidden out there when Wayne had beaten his mother. When he’d been too little to help her.
Naomi looked back at the stars. “Did your mom not protect you?”
His chest tightened like an elephant had just taken a seat. “She tried. Once. Wayne hit her so hard, she couldn’t hear for a week. After that, she tried to keep me out of sight, but that didn’t work for long. Eventually, she gave up. We were both trapped.”
“But she wasn’t trapped. You were a kid, but she was a grown woman. She could have taken you and left.”
That always sounded so easy to people who had never lived with violence.
“I used to think that, too. Even hated her for a while.” The bullfrogs joined the crickets’ song, creating a soundtrack for his ugly tale. “But when the tables turned, when I was bigger than Wayne, I tried to save her. I would have killed him if Shelly hadn’t stopped me.”
“I don’t blame you. Did your mom get away from him?”
With a cynical chuckle, he said, “Things only happen that way in the movies. No, Debra stayed. I was eighteen, so Wayne pressed charges. She backed him up, and even told the police where to find me.”
Naomi closed her eyes and moonlight glistened off the tear that slid over her temple. “I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Shifting her weight, Naomi rolled to her side and placed her hand on his chest. “No one should ever have to endure what you’ve been through, Chance. Especially an innocent child. But there’s pride in surviving it. You’re strong and protective and kind. Some men would have gone the other way. Perpetuated the cycle. But you didn’t.”
She was forgetting one crucial fact. “I’m an alcoholic, Nay. Same as them.”
“No.” With a firm grip, she turned his face her way. “You’re nothing like them. Have you ever laid hands on an innocent child?”
“That isn’t—”
“Answer me. Have you ever laid hands on an innocent child?”
Chance met her shadowed gaze. “No.”
“Have you ever hit a woman?”
“No.”
Rising up, she braced on her elbow and leaned over him. “Are you drinking your life away in a trailer somewhere?”
“I could end up there.”
“But you won’t.”
Chance wished he had half her certainty. “How do you know that?”
She touched a finger to his lips. “Because I know you.”
Sliding his hand into her hair, Chance pulled her closer. “Earlier tonight, you told your mom that you cared about me. Was that part of the act?”
Naomi turned to kiss his palm. “No.”
They lingered there, her hair tickling his chest as his thumb trailed across her cheek. When he couldn’t wait another second, Chance tugged her down, taking her lips with his while lifting her body atop his own. Naomi settled between his legs as her hands drove into his hair. She tasted of parmesan and butter and willing woman. When he licked her lips, she opened for him and sucked on his tongue as it slid between her teeth. They nipped and bit and she purred when Chance suckled her ear.
“Stay with me tonight, Nay.”
Rising up, she panted as their breath mingled in the night air. Chance watched the thoughts flit across her face. The battle with herself, whether to give in to desire or let logic win and demand he take her home. He wouldn’t have blamed her for turning him down. Not after how he’d hurt her in the past.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”