Page 36 of Buried Beneath Sin

“Oh, how rude of me. I never introduced myself. I’m Chase.” Just Chase… no last name. “What about you? Can I get the name of the nice woman who politely listened to me talk about myself all evening?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at his playfulness.

“I’m Beatrix,” I offer.

His lips pull upward in a victorious smile. It’s like I’ve given him a trophy rather than a name. “Well, Beatrix, it was a pleasure talking with you, or, rather,atyou.”

This is it. This is where we can either part ways or I could throw caution to the wind and ask him if he wants to come back to the house with me. I know I said I’d give up on that dream but… this is my chance. My heart climbs up my throat, choking off the words. I’ve never done this before. I’m so painfully out ofmy comfort zone at this very moment that all I can do is struggle to breathe without embarrassing myself.

Come on, you got this. Just ask…I urge myself. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a croak. God, please don’t let me chicken out on this. My whole life I’ve been walking on eggshells, I don’t need to do that right now. So what if he says no? If he’s appalled? It’s not like I’ll ever see him again. Just ask him if he wants to have sex!

“Thanks for entertaining me. I had fun,” I say instead.

Internally, I wince. Great, I’m going to blow it. I know right then and there I’ll never be able to say the words. With a rueful sigh, I turn and walk down the three steps to head toward the van.

“Hey, Beatrix?”

I stop when I get to the gravel and turn to look up at Chase. His eyes catch the strange light from across the street. The shadows around us seem to seep into his expression and twist his handsome features. For a fleeting moment, he looks dangerous. Like a fallen angel ready to pounce. My breath catches in my throat as my heart skips a beat.

Chase descends the concrete steps to join me, and the eerie shadows vanish. He shoves his hands into his front pockets.

“Why’d you pick this bar to stop at this evening?” he asks, his voice light. “You don’t seem like the type of person to frequent establishments of, ah, low quality.”

My embarrassment leaves me flustered. I look away, unable to hold his gaze as I give him some semblance of the truth.

“I didn’t intend to stop here. I wanted to go into Chicago and be anyone but myself for the night, but I choked. I backtracked when I got there. I guess ending up here is a middle ground, so I didn’t completely blow the evening.”

Chase hums thoughtfully. Whatever he thinks of that answer, he keeps to himself. When I think that’s all he’s going to say, I take another step toward the funeral van waiting for me.

“Hold on a second. It’s late; are you sure you want to head home?” Chase’s words surprise me. I jerk my head up to watch his full lips curve into a sheepish smile. “I’m staying across the street. If you want, you could spend the night with me? I’ll let you pretend to be whoever you want to be, if you’re still looking for that.”

It takes me a stupidly long time to figure out what Chase is offering. When it finally clicks, I’m floored.

Oh!

My heart takes flight as a thrill of excitement washes through me. He’s asking me to sleep with him! For a second, I’m stunned into silence. Then, my mind begins to race. This is the first time I’ve ever been propositioned. What do I say? What should I do? Do we shake on this? Talk about what we want or don’t want? The silence stretches between us as I run through all the questions and uncertainties in my head. I try to answer, I do, but when I open my mouth only a squeak comes out. Chase’s smile falters. Crap! I have to saysomething.

“Yes!” I say just a little bit too loud. “I mean,yesI’d like that. But,” swallowing down my nerves I press on, “only if you understand that me leaving right after I visit isn’t a slight on your part. I have a—” emotionally exhausting, sickeningly relieving “—long day tomorrow and it starts early.”

The smile that tugs at Chase's mouth is both seductive and subdued. He offers me his hand. Hesitantly, I lift a trembling one of my own and I take his. If he notices my nerves, he doesn’t remark on it.

Instead, he gives my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and asks, “Who said anything about letting you leave?”

18

BEATRIX

It takes Chase two attempts to get his door to unlock. When it does swing open, paint flakes fall from the doorframe. Without a word, the two of us step into his room. Inside is exactly what I expected a motel of this caliber to look like. An old comforter on the queen bed, a seventies headboard, and then, of course, is the peeling wallpaper. The dresser is missing a drawer, and the television, which is already on, is playing some old black and white Western.

But despite the old, worn down appearance, it seems clean-ish.

“The guys and I are staying here temporarily. Usually, we stay in nicer places, but I let one of the others handle picking the accommodations this time around,” Chase says, shutting the door behind us. “Trust me, I know this isn’t the best room.”

I shrug. “How long are you in town for?”

Chase kicks off his shoes and crouches down to neatly place them beside the old A/C unit rattling softly beside us.

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m in no rush to be anywhere else, and knowing there’s a pretty woman here, I might decide to stick around a bit.”

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