An Engagement in Seattle
Page 57“I don’t plan on it.”
“Good.” Pete cleared his throat. “You love her, don’t you?”
Chase wasn’t sure how to answer. The physical desire they shared had overwhelmed them both. But their relationship had quickly become so much more.
When he’d first considered finding himself a wife, it had been to ease his loneliness. He was searching for a companion. A lover. A woman to keep him company during the long, dark winter months. He wanted a wife so he could bond closely with another human being. Since his parents’ deaths, he’d felt detached and isolated from life.
Love had never entered into the equation. He’d never expected to fall in love this fast. Passion, yes, he’d expected that but not this kind of love.
This had been his error, Chase realized with a start. Marriage to Lesley had altered everything. Because love had come to them—or at least to him—with everything she did, everything she said. Whenever he went to bed with her, he offered her a little more of his heart. A little more of his soul. Lovemaking had become more than a physical mating, it had a spiritual aspect. He didn’t know how else to describe it.
He thought about Lesley lying in bed waiting for him. She was so incredibly lovely, with her hair spilling out over the pillow…
It felt like a knife in his belly to think that she’d walk out on him without so much as a word.
“I do,” Chase said, answering Pete’s question after a profound moment. “I do love her.”
“Then do whatever you have to in order to keep her,” Pete advised sagely. “Even if it means leaving Twin Creeks. You can always find another job, but you may never find another Lesley.”
His friend was right and Chase knew it. Now all he had to do was come up with a way of convincing Lesley to give their lives together a fighting chance.
He showered and changed clothes, flipped through the Fairbanks phone directory for the address of the Gold Creek Hotel and ordered a cab.
It would’ve been better if he’d been able to work out what he wanted to say, but he dared not delay a confrontation for fear he’d miss her.
Chase was grateful to Pete. His friend had said he could find Lesley through his various connections faster than Chase would be able to do it. Chase hated sitting back and letting someone else do the footwork, but in the end it had proven beneficial. Pete had located her within twelve hours.
The taxi let him off in front of the hotel. His heart was beating so hard he could hardly hear his own thoughts. Even now he didn’t know what he what he was going to say.
That, however, didn’t stop him from pounding at the door of room 204. When she didn’t immediately answer, he knocked again, louder this time, so loud that the lady across the hall stuck her head out to see who was causing such a commotion. She threw him an irritated look and went back inside.
The door opened and Lesley stood in front of him. Suitcases sat like accusations in the background, and suddenly he was angry. He’d considered Lesley decent and honorable, not the kind of woman who’d walk out on her husband without warning.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, pushing his way into the room. Lesley was so startled that she stumbled two steps back before regaining her balance.
“Chase?” She closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes wide. The perfume she wore wafted toward him. He needed every ounce of willpower not to haul her into his arms and beg her to stay with him.
“I may have made a few mistakes along the way, but I would’ve thought you’d have the decency to talk to me instead of running away.”
“Running away? I just flew down to Fairbanks!”
“Without a word to me,” he reminded her in clipped tones.
“I left you a note.” Her voice was raised now, as well. She rested her hands on her hips and scowled at him.
“A note,” he said as though he found that humorous. “What good is that when I’m here in Fairbanks?”
Lesley dropped her hands, clenching them tightly. “You didn’t give me the name of the hotel where you were staying. And you didn’t answer your cell. How was I supposed to contact you?”
Chase was embarrassed to admit that he’d left his cell phone charging and hadn’t bothered to check for a message from her—because he hadn’t expected one.
“So now it’s my fault.” Chase knew why he was arguing with her, because if he didn’t, he was going to reach for her and hold her, kiss her.
“Yes, it’s your fault,” she cried.
“Lesley, who is this man?”
Chase whirled around to see an older woman in a bright red housecoat with matching red slippers. Her hair was wrapped in a towel.
“Mother…” Lesley sounded as though she was about to burst into tears. She gestured weakly toward him, before her hand fell lifelessly to her side. “This is Chase Goodman, my husband.”
The woman glared at him as if he were living proof of every dreaded suspicion she’d harbored. “What’s the matter with you, young man?”
“Mrs. Campbell-Sterne…”
“How dare you talk to Lesley like this! Have you no manners?”
Chase gave what he figured was an excellent imitation of a salmon, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He looked at Lesley, desperate for her to explain, but she’d turned her back to him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“As well you should be. I can tell you I had my concerns about the kind of man Lesley married. Now I can see that—”
“I…I suppose not.” Mrs. Campbell-Sterne flushed. “I’ll go and dress.”
“Thank you,” Chase said. He waited until his mother-in-law had gone into the bathroom and closed the door before he approached Lesley.
He stepped behind her and went to rest his hands on her shoulders, stopping just short. He closed his eyes briefly, then dropped his hands to his sides. “I just made a world-class jerk of myself, didn’t I?”
Lesley nodded, still refusing to face him.
“You left a note at the house?”
She answered him with another sharp nod. “And messages.”
“What did they say?”
“That my mother had phoned and was worried about me and our sudden marriage. She was hurt that I’d gone through with the ceremony without trying harder to contact her. She decided to fly up immediately to meet you.”
“Oh…” He didn’t know what had possessed him to think she’d leave without some kind of explanation.
“Tony called Mom and Ken,” Lesley went on. “He claimed I’d married on the rebound and that I’d made a terrible mistake. He was hoping to undermine our relationship.” The way Lesley said it made Chase wonder if Tony had succeeded.
After the stunt he’d just pulled, he couldn’t blame Lesley for believing she had made a mistake. Apologies seemed grossly inadequate.
“You flew down to meet your mother.” Once again he wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. No doubt her mother thought Lesley had married a madman and he’d quickly gone about proving her right.
“What’s wrong with you, charging in here like a bull moose?” Lesley demanded, finally turning to face him.
His salmon imitation returned, and he couldn’t manage a word, let alone a coherent sentence.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” she reminded him.
“I…I thought you left me,” he mumbled.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Her eyes, which he’d always found so bright and beautiful, were filled with disdain.
It sounded so weak. “I couldn’t let you leave.”
Now was the perfect opportunity to confess how much he loved her, how his heart wouldn’t survive without her, but he couldn’t make himself say it, not with her looking at him as if he should be arrested.
“What else was I supposed to think?” he flared. “You up and left.”
“You left, too, and didn’t return when you said you would, but I didn’t immediately leap to some outrageous conclusion.”
“That’s different,” Chase argued, although he knew that made no sense. He disliked the turn their conversation had taken. He didn’t want to quarrel; what he yearned to do was pull her into his arms, bury his face in her neck and breathe in her scent.
“Can I come out now?” June asked from the bathroom doorway. She’d changed into blue-and-green-plaid slacks and a pale blue sweater. She was nearly as tall as Lesley, with the same clear, dark, intelligent eyes. And like Lesley, her thoughts were easy to read. Chase didn’t have to guess what his mother-in-law was thinking. He hadn’t impressed her, nor had he done anything to reassure her that Lesley had made a wise choice in marrying him.
The worst of it was that he couldn’t blame her.
“It’s all right, Mom. You can come out.”
“You’re sure?” She said it as though she was ready to contact the police and have Chase removed.
“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake,” Chase said, hoping he could explain what had happened and at the same time address her concerns about his and Lesley’s relationship.
“You can say that again,” June returned crisply.
“Perhaps we could discuss this over lunch.” Feeding them both sounded like an excellent plan and once they were relaxed, he’d be able to smooth things over.
Lesley’s mother didn’t look too pleased about stepping outside the hotel room with him. She cast a guarded look in Lesley’s direction. “What do you think, dear?”
“That’ll be fine,” Lesley said, reaching for a white sweater, neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Chase moved to help her put it on, then changed his mind. Now wasn’t the time to be solicitous. Lesley wouldn’t appreciate it.
Chase chose the hotel restaurant. Conversation over lunch was stilted at best. June asked him several questions, but his attention was focused on his wife. He answered June, but his gaze didn’t waver from Lesley. He was hoping she’d say or do something, anything to ease his conscience.
He’d blown it. The door had been left wide open for him to explain why he’d reacted so badly. He’d been out of his mind, thinking he’d lost her.
Chase loved her. It didn’t get any simpler than that. All he had to do was say it. How difficult could that be? Apparently more than he’d realized because he let the opportunity slip past.
“How long do you plan to visit?” Chase asked June, thinking ahead. He supposed he shouldn’t have been so obvious, but he was already counting down the days, the hours and minutes, until he could be alone with Lesley.
“Five days,” June returned stiffly. She glanced at Lesley as though to suggest that purchasing another plane ticket south would be highly advisable—for both of them.