Page 33 of Chasing the Sun

“Don’t mind if I do,” Elle said with a wink.

They hugged goodbye in the driveway, and Jamie gave Chloe a wave before she slid into Bryce’s Mercedes and drove off.

Here was another thing she was getting used to—driving around in his fancy car. It wasn’t about the name brand as much as how it made her feel. The car wrapped around her almost like it was giving her a hug, although maybe it was Bryce she was thinking about.

A few minutes later, she entered the code to open the front gate and pulled into his subdivision. She’d seen him briefly that morning before he’d left to go golfing. He’d been in a big hurry and had only said a quick goodbye. She had no idea if he’d be home yet, but she secretly hoped so.

As much as she’d tried to convince Elle (and herself) that she only had a mild curiosity about him, she (and probably Elle) knew it was a lie. There was something about him that drew her in, and not just on a physical level. She wanted to comfort and care for him as much as she wanted to…well, jump him!

There was a vulnerability about him that he tried to hide but that she’d seen several glimpses of. His protectiveness over Molly was just one example. It was also the way he’d spoken about his flaws and how he measured his words carefully before speaking. He was always so contained and concerned about maintaining certain boundaries. Did he ever really let loose? Why did she want it to be with her?

When she opened the garage door, she was disappointed that his SUV wasn’t there. It would have been nice to walk in the door and have him greet her with the simple question: “How was your day?”

She went inside the empty house, took her packages upstairs, kicked off her shoes, and flopped back on the bed. She hadn’t intended on napping, but the bed was so cozy, the house was so quiet, and she was tired from shopping. Two hours later, she awakened feeling groggy and hungry.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was already after seven, and she hadn’t heard Bryce come in. She would have liked to wait and have dinner with him, but her stomach disagreed.

She grabbed her phone out of her purse and went downstairs to the kitchen. Since she was alone, she decided to make herself a sandwich and eat it on the patio. The backyard looked onto the golf course, though it was still far enough away to afford some privacy. She saw a few golfers in the distance and wondered if Bryce was among them. He’d never said where he was golfing. She’d just assumed it would be there in his own backyard.

Her sandwich and the sun disappeared around the same time, and there was still no sign of him. She’d just finished putting her dishes away when her phone pinged on the kitchen counter. She picked it up and saw he’d sent her a text.

I won’t be home tonight, just so you know. Bryce.

She leaned against the counter and read it twice more, trying to read between the lines. Her mind raced with questions. Where was he staying? Had he done it to give her space? And the most nagging question of all: Is he with a woman?

Chapter 12

Bryce wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. After golfing eighteen holes with his buddies, they were having drinks at the clubhouse bar, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Chloe. He’d glanced at his watch a few times and wondered if she’d come home from shopping yet, and then he’d gotten angry with himself for caring. He was free for the weekend, yet here he was with his mostly married friends and thinking about his nanny.

Being in the hot tub with her last night must have fried his brain. He knew it had been a mistake to stay there with her, yet he hadn’t been able to make himself leave. By the time he’d finally gotten into bed, he’d been so keyed up that he’d resorted to self-pleasure to relieve his frustration.

Here it was the next night, and all he could think about was her in that bathing suit and the sparkle in her eyes when she’d said, “You’re not that bad.”

If she only knew how bad he wanted to be with her, she’d probably pack her bags and head back to Michigan. He refused to let that happen, though, especially since Molly was already getting attached.

He reminded himself that he’d only have to make it through the summer without doing something stupid. After that, Chloe would return to Michigan, and Molly would start school. He wouldn’t even need a nanny then, and the temptation would be eliminated.

After his golf buddies dispersed to go home to their wives or girlfriends, he still sat at the bar, hesitant to leave. He wasn’t sure what sounded worse, going home to an empty house or facing Chloe. Thinking it best to stay away, he paid his tab, went outside, got into his car, and pulled out his phone.

His finger hovered over the call button for a moment, and then he pressed it. It had been a while since he’d seen her, and it was a long shot, but surprisingly, she invited him over. When he arrived at her house, she greeted him at the door in a robe. She poured them a drink, and they made small talk for a few minutes, even though neither of them had much to say.

It was clear to them both why he was there, and soon she led him into her bedroom. As he suspected, she was naked underneath the robe, and before long, he was buried deep inside her. Afterward, he lay there feeling almost worse than before, but when she invited him to stay over, he agreed.

At nine o’clock the next morning, he pulled into his driveway with a headache and a heap of remorse. Doctor Rachel Johnson had agreed that it was “just sex,” but now he felt ashamed to face Chloe. It was ridiculous, really. He was a single adult who had every right to see whomever he pleased, yet having to face Chloe this morning didn’t sit well with him.

While the garage door raised, he half-hoped the Mercedes would be gone, but there it sat. Since he hadn’t planned on a sleepover, he was still wearing his golf clothes from yesterday. The only difference from when Chloe had last seen him was the stubble on his face from not shaving.

He’d never given much thought to the “walk of shame” that women often referred to, but now he understood what it felt like. Drawing a deep breath, he ran his hands through his hair and entered the house.

Please let her be upstairs. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, there she was, perched on a stool at the island, eating scrambled eggs and reading a magazine.

She must have heard him come in, but she continued reading and ignored him. Best to get this over with. “Ahem. Good morning.”

She set down the magazine and looked him over with an unreadable expression, which was unusual coming from her. “Good morning.”

He eyed the plate of eggs and saw toast and bacon too which reminded him that Rachel hadn’t even asked him to stay for breakfast. They’d simply said goodbye with no mention of when they might see each other again—such was the state of their “arrangement.”

“Looks good.”