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When the song ended and prayers resumed, she realized Chase was staring at her. “How did I not know you could do that?” he whispered, his lips barely moving.
She frowned, not understanding what he meant. Once she realized he was referring to her singing, she smiled, warmth spreading through her chest and continuing right on downward. Her body didn’t seem to care that she was in a sacred space, if the melting thing going on between her legs and the sudden tightness in her nipples were any indication. This wasn’t the place to be thinking about such things, but God understood that she could only stand so much temptation before she broke like a twice-baked cookie.
And Chase’s giant hands gripping the back of the pew in front of them definitely qualified as tempting. Those long, blunt fingers and wide wrists were prime fantasy fodder.
The rest of him wasn’t bad either. Especially his bitable butt, nicely emphasized by his snug, impure-thought-provoking pants.
On the way out after the service, a couple of nice elderly ladies in lovely pastel dresses stopped her and Chase and inquired if they were new to the area. Before Chase could explain Summer didn’t live with him, one of the women asked how long they had been married.
Demonstrating their utter maturity, she and Chase leaped as far apart as the narrow aisle allowed. Their subsequent uneasy silence virtually assured they had no choice but to join the ladies at the potluck lunch being held in the elementary school cafeteria to make up for their unintentional rudeness.
But there was baked ziti buried in enough cheese to frighten a cow, so hey, it wasn’t all bad.
As if trying to make small talk with a table of chatty octogenarians wasn’t amusing enough, once the ladies realized Chase was the famous Deuce Dixon, they wouldn’t let him out of their sight. How so many of them were so well-versed in baseball, Summer had no clue. After making Chase show off a few of his tattoos, along with engaging in some serious bicep-petting that made Chase blush and Summer giggle, the women then convinced their new friends to sit through a spirited game of bingo.
Make that five spirited games. The bright side? Summer won
sixty-three bucks, split with two other women.
“This’ll buy my ice cream for the night.” Summer folded the bills into her wallet while she and Chase finally made their way to his Escalade. After tucking her wallet into her purse, she dug out her cell phone and breathed a sigh of relief that Kyle hadn’t called again. Her banjo-slash-guitar-slash-keyboard player had been certain she’d been abducted last night, though that hadn’t stopped him from returning home to the suburbs of Yardley and leaving her in the city. “This is perfect timing,” she added, ignoring Chase’s usual silence. “We have enough time to get back upstate before my shift at Triple Scoop tonight.”
“It’s fucking November.” Chase took care of her door for her, then rounded the hood and got in on the driver’s side. He shook his head as he started the engine. “Will you try harder to convince my crazy sister that no self-respecting New Yorker wants to eat ice cream in the freaking winter? Every other place closes in October except Cass’s.”
“Cass is a savvy entrepreneur,” Summer said primly, snapping her belt into place. Suppressing a shiver, she reached over to turn up the heater. Chase beat her to it.
“See my point?” He jutted his chin at her before backing out of the lot. “You’re freezing. Would you really want to eat ice cream right now?”
She couldn’t stop her laughter as she cast him a sideways glance. “I would if I could have one of Cass’s new special creations.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Cass and I brainstormed some ways to keep traffic coming into the shop even when it’s cold outside. We decided one way is to keep people…coming.”
For a long moment there was nothing but silence in the swiftly warming cabin of Chase’s truck. Then he exploded. “What?”
“Easy. It’s not as bad as it sounds. We’re selling some fun new erotic blends of heated sauce to go with the ice cream. You know Cass is a wizard in the kitchen, and she’s touting these herbal enhancements she’s added to her toppings. And oh my God, the raspberry-mocha-white-chocolate fudge? Spontaneous orgasm in a cup, I swear.” She noted Chase’s suddenly constricted expression and flashed a wide grin. “Oops, sorry. Are we little women not supposed to admit we think about sex as much as guys?”
“You just left church,” he said under his breath.
“What does that have to do with my vagina?”
He reached up to scratch his face, drawing her attention to the sharp right angle of his jaw and that soft-looking scruff that made her want to rub her cheek against his skin. “Your vagina was never invited into this conversation. Please exit stage left.”
Laughing, she rested her forehead against the cool window to try to reduce the certain flush in her cheeks. She could toss around innuendoes—or straight out dirty talk—with the best of ’em, but that didn’t mean she could do it without blushing.
“Cass may be your sister, but she’s still an adult with an active sex life. Besides—” she paused to give him time to sputter through the breath he couldn’t seem to exhale, “—this isn’t about Cass’s sex life or mine. We’re trying different things to drum up business. And let me tell you, the Power Potions and Delectable Delights are working. On weekend nights, we sell those sauces by the vat. No joke.”
“Nipple clamps optional?” he muttered.
She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “You know, now that you mention it, maybe we could—”
“Your mother would be shocked.”
Summer’s good humor faded. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“Neither did your vagina, but you didn’t hesitate to throw that in here.”
She crossed her arms and stared out the windshield at the gloomy afternoon. The slate sky looked like it would start spitting snow at any moment. Crisscrossing lights from the oncoming traffic flashed over Chase’s face, highlighting the steely set to his mouth. Twilight came early to New York this time of year, and this one was being helped along by the forecast of flurries overnight.
