Breathe by Kristen Ashley


  Coal “Wood” Blackwood owned a share of the family run garage in town. They specialized in Harleys. His father started it, built it up and now anyone that lived in a two hundred and fifty mile radius who had the funds to get their bike worked on at their garage brought it to Pop and Wood’s. Wood’s father, Pop, was a devoted Harley man who saddled Wood with a biker’s son biker name that surprisingly Wood, considering he was also a biker, refused to answer to and everyone called him Wood unless they wanted his fist in their groin. Rumor had it he’d spent his teenage years and early twenties spreading this message wide and now no one called him anything else. Not even “Mr. Blackwood”.

  Chace parked, walked up the steps and down Tate’s deck to the door while taking in the conifers all around dusted with snow.

  Tate was a mountain man to Chace’s plains man. Tate got his quiet and peace from being surrounded by nothing but trees.

  Even before the shit that went down with him, Chace liked the openness of the plains, the vistas panoramic, the opportunities to make a surprise approach nonexistent.

  Tate liked seclusion. You had to know where you were going to find Tate’s house. If you happened on it by accident or design, he had the firepower and willingness to use it in order to encourage you to explain why you’d wandered his way and get you to move on if he didn’t like your answers.

  Chace hit the door and opened it without a knock because he saw the men sitting around the dining room table just inside. The owner of the Cherokee was who Chace expected, Holden Maxwell. Not a local, he owned a construction company in Gnaw Bone. However, he was a friend of Ty’s and his wife was an attorney. She was the attorney who acted as Ty’s attorney so he, like everyone, was not unaware of what had gone down. Although not intimately involved, he still had ties.

  “Beer?” Tate asked as Chace closed the door.

  “Yep,” Chace answered

  Greetings were exchanged by chin, eyes or words as Chace took his seat at the table and Tate put a beer in front of him.

  As Tate reseated himself, Chace asked, “The women?”

  His eyes went to Ty who answered.

  “Lexie and me moved into a huge-ass house last week. Furniture we got filled about a sixteenth of it. We also got a fuckload of money in the bank, courtesy of the State of California. This means Lexie, Laurie and Maggie are shoppin’ for furniture. It also means, by tonight, I’ll have to hire an architect to add onto my already huge-ass house because we’ll have more furniture than we can fit in the fuckin’ place.”

  Chace felt his mouth twitch. Lexie definitely liked to shop, this was well-known. But what was funny was the fact that Ty was bitching when he didn’t give one shit Lexie was out dropping a load of cash. First, they had it. Second, he’d lasso the moon if it made his wife happy.

  Chace muttered, “Right,” and took a sip of beer. Then his eyes went around the table and he started, “Got shit to do and got shit news. Wanna brief you, get the shit part done and then get on with the shit I gotta do.”

  More chin lifts, Chace took another sip of beer and sat back in his chair before he went on.

  “Got a visit from one of my father’s men. Man’s name is Clinton Bonar. You may know him,” Chace stated, his eyes not missing Tate’s flashing with recognition. “You might not. My advice, you get the chance, don’t. He introduces himself, walk away then five seconds later, call me. He’s an asshole and of all the varieties of asshole there are, he’s at the top of the scale of the worst there could be. Unfortunately, the last time I saw him, he was an asshole with a message.”

  Chace took another sip of beer and continued, sharing what Bonar shared and as he did the alert but relaxed vibe in the room lost the relaxed part. This came especially from Ty when Chace mentioned his father’s tapes.

  So when Chace finished, he did it eyes on Ty and he did it quietly.

  “I do not give a fuck you have them. I also don’t give a fuck what you do with them. What I ask is that if you intend to use them, you give me a head’s up so I can do what I can to soften the blow for my mother. Me requesting you being here was not me doin’ what Bonar wanted. I do not intend to be the errand boy for those assholes. I’m outta that shit. No more. I’m just sayin’ this so all of you can keep your eyes and ears open, be aware, be cautious and report to me or Frank anything that concerns you. Frank and the Cap know all of this. Whatever happens, we agree, we deal with it openly, within protocol, as a matter of police business. Maybe they’ll see the wisdom of backing off and dealing with Newcomb quietly. Maybe a storm is brewing. We just need to be vigilant.”

  “Not gonna use those tapes,” Ty declared when Chace stopped talking.

  “Like I said, don’t care what you do with them,” Chace replied.

  “Not gonna use ‘em, don’t even fuckin’ want ‘em. Got a kid comin’, don’t need shit like that in my house. I’ll collect ‘em, give ‘em to you. That way, at least you’re clear with your Dad and they think of doin’ somethin’ stupid, Lexie and I are outside their warpath,” Ty returned.

  “You do not need to buckle to these men,” Chace told him quietly and Ty leaned across the table toward him.

  “I’m not bucklin’ to those motherfuckers.” His deep voice rumbled firmly. “I do not want that shit in my house. I have no use for it. I got a wife who don’t need any more bullshit and handin’ over some sick-ass sex tapes is a small price to pay for keepin’ her clear of that shit. I have no intention of fuckin’ with your mother’s head. We both been forced down a murky road together, you and me, and as we moved down that road, we didn’t know we had company. When shit got extreme, you had my back. You also had my wife’s. So I’m also doin’ this for you. What I’m not doin’ it for is those motherfuckers. But they can think I am. I don’t give a fuck. They don’t factor in my life and once those tapes are out of it, the last nuance of them is too.”

  Chace saw his point, seeing as it was hard to miss, and nodded.

  “Am I the only one here that thinks that maybe a full frontal assault to teach a lesson that the town’s not gonna be fucked with anymore is the way to go?” Deke asked and this was not a surprise. Deke behaved himself in Bubba’s because if he didn’t, he’d get an ass full of buckshot from Krystal’s shotgun. But Carnal to Sturgis was paved with bars that saw Deke’s blood or, more often, blood he caused to flow hit the pavement in parking lots. He was not a man to sit on his hands or back down from a fight.

  His question got two “Yeahs”, one from Wood, one from Chace with a, “Uh… yeah, Deke. It’s only you,” from Tate.

  Ty just grinned at him. Max grinned at the table.

  Then Max looked at Chace. “You need me to give Mick a head’s up about this?”

  The Mick he was talking about was Mick Shaughnessy, the top guy at Gnaw Bone’s Police Department.

  “You wanna do that, it’d save me time,” Chace answered. “He has questions, tell him he can give me a call.”

  “Will this reach to Gnaw Bone?” Max went on and Chace kept his gaze.

  Then he replied, “It happens. Yes. Two men vulnerable in Gnaw Bone. One sits on the City Council. One has an office down the hall from your wife.”

  Chace watched Max’s face get hard then he whispered, “Fuck.”

  “Don’t know what they got on him and don’t know who Darren’s squeezin’. Just know he’s made payoffs in the past and he’s provided free legal advice,” Chace informed him.

  “This does not make me happy,” Max informed Chace.

  “It wouldn’t make me happy either,” Chace agreed. “But my understanding is, Nina put out her shingle and shares office space with George but she didn’t partner with him. If Newcomb’s after George then he’s runnin’ scared. He’ll do all in his power to keep this from Nina. My guess only, she’s legally and financially clear, unless he’s outed and dishonored, she never has to know and there’s no need to drag her in. She’s your wife, your call. But you tell Mick. He’ll have her back.”

  Max pulled in brea
th through his nose before he sighed and sat back and what Chace knew of Max, by that evening, both Mick Shaughnessy and Nina Maxwell would know. What Chace knew of Nina Maxwell, by Monday, George Nielson, a prominent attorney in the area, would have the side of her tongue, something feared widely since she knew how to use it, and possibly he’d be looking for new office space. She’d moved in with him when she’d moved to Gnaw Bone to marry Max. Still, she’d get the offices. Nina Maxwell was also not one to back down from a fight, she fought on the side that was right and she rarely lost.

  “Right, so, our shit storm might not be over. Bad news but fuck it, we’ve been livin’ with worse,” Wood said at this point. “Now, what I wanna know is,” his eyes came to Chace and his lips surrounded by his goatee twitched, “are you seriously datin’ the town’s librarian?”

  At this point, Chace sighed.

  “Saw her with him and Bubba’s,” Deke confirmed then said with emphasis and a scary grin, “Tight.”

  “You think I’ll man up while you trash talk Faye, I’ll shut that down now,” Chace said low and there were more lip twitches.

  “Is it possible to trash talk Faye?” Tate asked then went on, his lips surrounded by a full on beard curved upwards, “Pure as the driven snow.”

  Fuck.

  “Been around,” Wood muttered, grinning at Tate. “Done a lot. Never been down a road no one’s ever taken.”

  Fuck.

  “Sweet,” Deke whispered, his grin aimed at Chace.

  Chace took a healthy slug of beer this time as he rose. After he found his feet, he put the bottle on the table and announced, “Now, I’m shuttin’ this shit down. Thanks for the beer and the time,” he said to Tate then moved his gaze through the men before he began to leave.

  “You don’t get it, Keaton,” Ty’s voice stopped him and his tone made Chace look back. “Clean pussy therefore undoubtedly sweet pussy, we’re happy for you, man.”

  “Not sure I like you referring to Faye as ‘pussy’,” Chace warned, not giving that first fuck Ty had five inches and a shitload of bulky muscle on him.

  “Lex don’t like it either but she got used to it. You will too,” Ty replied.

  “Terrific,” Chace muttered not thinking in a million years that Ty Walker would be his bud. Now after getting the Walker Style “you’re in my posse” statement, he was at odds with how he felt about it.

  “He’s not lyin’, Chace,” Tate said quietly and Chace looked to him. “That works out, pleased for you. You get a good woman in your bed, life has a way of straightening itself out.”

  “Road can’t be murky, it’s got light shinin’ on it,” Ty added. Chace shook his head, not at odds with how he felt about Tatum Jackson and Tyrell Walker, two of the biggest badasses he knew, demonstrating signs they were pussy whipped and didn’t give a shit.

  “She’s got any friends, I’m on the market,” Deke put in at this point and Chace was done.

  To communicate this, he lifted a hand, dropped it, moved to the door and the sounds of deep, low chuckles followed him out.

  It took him two steps to shake that shit off.

  Firstly, because it wasn’t nasty or jacked so it wasn’t worth getting irritated at.

  Secondly, because he had a shitload of food at his house including a bottle of hazelnut half and half.

  Chapter Eight

  Cats and Dogs, Birds and Bees

  I drove to Chace’s place attempting to control my breathing. This was because I was near on hyperventilating.

  And this was because tonight was the night.

  I’d decided.

  Tonight I was going to give Chace my virginity.

  Chace didn’t know this yet, of course. It was my decision. Although I was fraking nervous, I was sticking with it.

  I’d made this decision for a variety of reasons.

  Firstly, because I’d fallen in love from afar with Chace at sixteen and now we were dating. I’d known for thirteen years he was the man I wanted to give it up to. Therefore, even though we hadn’t been dating long, considering I’d been into him for thirteen years, I figured it was high time I got down to doing that.

  Secondly, because I was twenty-nine, I finally had a boyfriend so it was also high time I got laid.

  And last, because with all the necking and early morning phone calls, Chace a touch away or his voice, sleepy and sexy coming to me over the phone or his tongue in my mouth, for the first time in my life, I needed to get laid.

  The problem with this was, I had no clue how to go about doing that.

  I knew Chace was experienced. I knew this through living in the same small town as him as well as experiencing firsthand that, well, experience albeit limitedly. Men had to get some too (I thought) and he was around me enough he couldn’t be getting it elsewhere (I hoped). So I didn’t really get why he wouldn’t allow it to go beyond necking.

  My only thought was that, Chace being Chace or who I was getting to know as Chace, was smart, he was experienced and putting both of those together he knew or figured out I was not. So, being Chace, a good guy, he was taking things slowly. Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly like the other women I’d known he’d been with. It wasn’t (outside of Misty) like they were all loose. They just weren’t like me. I’d grown up in Carnal, my Mom and Dad had too, not to mention they were well-known and well-liked. Maybe it was a respect thing.

  Whatever it was, I was going for it.

  But before I went for it, I needed advice.

  This time, I didn’t even have to think about it. At a quiet time in the library, I’d grabbed my cell, moved to my open office door, stood in it with eyes directed into the library and I’d called Krystal. Quickly and succinctly I explained my dilemma while trying and likely failing not to blush.

  Krystal’s response?

  “I’ll be there in five.”

  This was both a relief and it made me even more nervous.

  Those nerves escalated when she wasn’t at the library in five. She arrived in fifteen. My heart started palpitating when I saw her stroll through the door with Twyla.

  Now, I liked Twyla and the night I had drinks with Chace at Bubba’s, Twyla had demonstrated (surprisingly) that she liked me too. Every girl always had openings for new girls in her posse and one could say I had more openings than most since my girl posse for years had been limited. Unless you were the type of woman to steal boyfriends or clothes, all girls were welcome.

  It was just that Twyla didn’t seem like one of the girls. This was mostly because she was known throughout town as being able to best just about anyone at arm wrestling and I wasn’t talking her engaging in this activity with other women. Though, I’d heard this wasn’t unheard of, it just took her a lot less time to win. She also was known to be an ex-marine. And last she was known to hold great disdain for all things girlie. So being in a girl posse didn’t seem to be something she’d desire.

  Then again, she was a girl and every girl, even me, knew that men were awesome for some things but others, no one but another girl would do.

  My current situation being a prime example.

  I just wasn’t certain this instance was one of those that Twyla could be helpful with.

  Further, I was not fired up by the idea of everyone in Carnal knowing intimate details of my life, including my life with Chace. That made me uncomfortable, for me, but it also made me uncomfortable because Chace had been the topic of a lot of discussion for a long time. Before that happened, he seemed a man who liked to live quiet. That choice had been taken away from him. Now, when he could get it back, I thought he should.

  When they made it to the checkout desk, both scanning the vicinity to see there were no patrons close, I decided to start.

  And I started with a lame, “Uh…”

  Krystal’s eyes sliced to me and she answered my unasked question. “She wouldn’t hear no for an answer. Don’t know how she knew. My side of the conversation was five words. She just did. I tried to talk her out of it. Ten minutes, didn??
?t work, pissed me off so I just came. She followed.” Krystal then looked to Twyla. “By the way, the time we’re here, you’re not gettin’ paid for bein’ there.”

  Twyla was a waitress at Krys’s bar. By the look on Twyla’s face, she didn’t care that she’d lose her probably not very exciting waitress wages.

  She didn’t respond to Krystal. She looked to me and stated immediately, “Throw yourself at him.”

  “Holy frak,” I breathed, my lungs seizing at the thought.

  “Are you nuts?” Krystal hissed, leaning into Twyla.

  “Do I look nuts?” Twyla returned, and unfortunately the answer to that was, yes, she did.

  It wasn’t that she was built like a truck which she was. It wasn’t this because she was entirely comfortable in her frame, she worked it and thus it worked for her.

  It was that she wore her hair in a female mullet. A male mullet was bad enough. A female mullet, well, I wasn’t the keeper of all things fashionable and felt people should do what they liked but I also knew what everyone else did. That a mullet was one place no man or woman should ever go.

  Krys gave up on Twyla and looked to me. “Do not do that. Talk to him.”

  Twyla stopped looking at Krys and her eyes came to me. “Do not talk to him. Throw yourself at him.”

  “Stop telling her that,” Krys snapped at Twyla.

  Twyla crossed her arms on her chest and looked back at Krystal.

  “You get I like girls,” she stated but it was a prompt.

  “Yes,” Krystal replied.

  “And I like girls who do things like wear mascara and lipstick.”

 
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