Page 105 of Broken on the Mountain
He's standing in the terrace doorway wearing a tuxedo. A freaking tuxedo!
It's such an odd sight that I have to blink a few times to make sure I haven't had one too many champagnes.
The suit fits him like it was made for someone slightly broader in the shoulders, but somehow, that makes him look even more devastating. His sandy brown hair is scruffier than usual, like he hasn't brushed it all week. His hazel eyes find mine across the balcony, and there—tucked into his breast pocket where a perfectly white pocket square should be—is a small packet of gummy bears.
"Chase?" My voice comes out broken, tears pricking my eyes. "What are you—how did you—"
He crosses the terrace and pulls me into his arms. "Fuck, I missed you, baby."
I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe him in—pure mountain air andhome.
"You came," I whisper against his neck. "You came… what the hell are you doing here?!"
His pulls back and holds my face with two hands, like he can't believe it either. "Of course I came. You think I was going to let you face this alone?"
I pull back to take him in from head to toe. "You're wearing a tux."
"Jamie's tux, actually. It's a little tight in the shoulders." He grins, and it's so genuine, sohim, that I want to cry. "And before you ask, yes, I drove nine hours to crash your fancy gala. Yes, Charlie packed me snacks. Yes, your doorman tried to stop me until I told him I was here for Piper Whitman and I wasn't leaving until I saw you."
"You told the doorman—"
"I told everyone. Valet guy, coat check lady, three different people in the lobby." His hands frame my face. "I don't care who knows, Piper. I love you. I should have said it a week ago, a month ago, the first time you climbed my fire escape in adesigner dress. I love you, and I'm done pretending this is casual or temporary or anything other than what it is."
My mouth opens, but before I can respond, my brain catches up.
"Wait." I pull back, studying his face. "It took you nine hours to drive here?"
A flicker of sheepishness crosses his features.
"Stone River is a two-hour flight," I continue, narrowing my eyes. "Or a five…maybesix hour drive. Tops. What happened?"
He clears his throat, glancing away toward the Chicago skyline.
"Chase Morrison, what did you do?"
"Okay, so." He runs a hand through his hair, messing it even more. "Promise you won't tell Knox and Travis? Or Jamie? Or literally anyone back home? Because I willneverhear the end of it."
"Oh my god." A laugh bubbles up despite the music starting back up inside. "What happened?"
"I may have… taken a wrong turn. Near the border." He says it fast, like ripping off a bandage. "In my defense, the GPS kept cutting out, and there was construction, and then I ended up in this tiny town, and—"
"You got lost."
"I gotgeographically confused," he corrects. "For about three hours."
I have to cover my laugh, because this is all so ridiculous. Him being here, him telling this story… Him beinghim.
"I drove in a complete circle at one point. Passed the same gas station twice. The attendant recognized me the second time and waved me down to give me directions."
I press my hand to my mouth, still trying not to laugh.
He pulls me closer, grinning now. "So yeah. Nine hours. But I'm here. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone—"
"Your secret's safe with me." I cup his face, overwhelmed by the fact that this man drovenine hours—and got hopelessly lost—all to be here with me. "Would it make you feel better if I told you a secret?"
Chase nods. "Absolutely."
"I'm wearing the boots."
