Chapter 22
IVY
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off, slip on a pair of panties then pull on a T-shirt that barely reaches my knees. Wiping the steam off of the mirror, I glance at my reflection, shaking my head at the person staring back at me.
Ma’s voice pops in my mind, as if she’s my personal conscience:You look different, like you’re in love.
I am.
Chase Hunter is a wonderful man with an equally wonderful family.
This gig would have been so much easier if the guy I was faking it with was rude, bald, and round instead of tall, dark, and everything.
One more day to go, and then the gig is up. I can return to my life in California, single and…Chaseless.
Heading into the small kitchen to make a cup of tea, my eye twitches. It’s still a little irritated from the cake crumbs that somehow flew into it. A soft giggle escapes my lips at the thought of the incident. So. Damn. Hilarious.
Filling up the teakettle, I hear the door open and as if by default, my heartbeat triples.
“Hey.” Chase leans on the wall in the corner of the kitchen, hands in pockets, his biceps noticeably flexing beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt.
He’s like Greek God hot.
“Hey,” I reply, breaking eye contact because that’s much easier than staring, salivating over his gorgeousness.
I place the teakettle on the stove, but don’t turn the stove on, distracted by my irritated eye. I blink, rubbing it slightly.
“Your eye okay?”
“I think so. It may be just a little irritated.”
He steps forward. “Let me see.”
“Chase, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Hop onto the counter here and let me take a look at it in the light.”
I hesitate at first, then plop my bottom onto the counter like a good girl.
Stepping closer, he cups my chin, flicking it up so the light hits my eye. He peers inside and softly blows in it.
Chills rush through my veins and heat rushes to my face. I try to play it off, take deep breaths, but I know I’m fooling no one but myself.
If Chase Hunter moves in any closer, I may just…
“Is that better, Ms. Bloom?”
He moves in closer and I swallow hard, trying to ignore how the trill of his voice when he just mutteredMs. Bloom,sent a surge of heat to my center.
Even though I try not to look at him, my eyes lock on his. “It’s Ivy,” I say, my coy tone light and breathy, and when he licks his lips, I know things are about to heat up.
Cupping my nape with his right hand, Chase traces my bottom lip. “No, it’s Evelyn,” he growls, then moves in between my bare thighs, bracketing my waist, pulling me into him, kissing me once again, deeper and harder than the last time.
My body ignites, fire between the two of us getting more intense. Our kisses are sensual and hungry, all at once.
My, oh my, how he makes me crazy for him, makes me need him more than any other man has before.
I tug at his shirt, my hands sliding underneath it; finding the bare skin, the solid muscles on his back as my hands move up and down. The feel of his ripped body alone sends me into a frenzy.
