Making Chase Page 25


“You can’t know what you’re saying.” She pushed back from the table and began to pace. The silky red shortie robe she wore fluttered around as she moved.

So on the ropes, his little Venus. He grinned. He knew then what had to happen. He’d helped every single one of his brothers with the wooing of their future wives so he had enough experience. Clearly Tate was caught up in their supposed differences again and he’d have to drag her, kicking and screaming, hopefully in the throes of orgasm, into love with him.

He leaned back in his chair and watched her. “I know exactly what I’m saying, Tate. I’m well on my way to being in love with you.”

She spun, sputtering. He had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Love? Fuckadoodledoo! You’ve had sex before last night, right? I’ve heard enough stories about your prowess to know you have. I promise to let you in my bed again, you don’t have to tell me you love me to get back in.”

“Little Venus, gorgeous, I know I don’t have to tell you I love you to get back between those silky, pale thighs of yours.” His voice lowered and he winked at her, loving the way she blushed and fanned herself briefly. “But the truth is, I do love you.” He shrugged.

“Matthew Chase! You can’t love me! I’m a fat little nobody from a horrible family from the wrong side of the road. You’re meant to be with a woman who knows how to use all the right forks, a woman who knows how to pick linens. A woman who has buildings named after her family.”

He stood and moved to her, so angry he barely remembered moving. “You will not talk about yourself like that.” He took her arms and kissed her hard. “You are someone. You’re Tate Murphy. You work hard, you built your life from nothing and I couldn’t possibly care less about forks or linens. You don’t think much of me if you think I’d care about all that stuff more than what’s inside a person.”

“What’s inside? Matt, you have no idea what kind of genes I’m carrying.”

“You don’t scare me, Tate. We’re not the sum of our parents you know. You aren’t. None of your siblings is from what I can tell. You’re not his anyway, even if I was concerned. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Her eyes widened and he raised a brow. “What, think you can scare me away with rough talk? Not. Going. To. Happen.”

“This is just crazy talk.”

He nodded. “It is. Now will you come to dinner next Sunday and can I come over here tonight after I finish up at my parents’? I’m not going to let you push me away. The cooking’s too good and you’re hot in bed.”

She shoved her hair back away from her face, frown lines etched into her forehead. “You don’t love me, Matt. This can’t be anything more than some fun evenings.”

“Tate, don’t tell me I can’t love you. It’s too late and it already is more than some fun evenings. If I didn’t know you were so scared, I’d be offended and thinking you just wanted to use me for my great big penis.”

She fought a smile and he realized the warmth in his chest was her, the way he felt about her. Love. He’d never felt it before but he knew he never wanted to be without it again. She made him whole.

“Your penis is just fine, Matt. But just what exactly do you envision this being?”

One arm banded around her waist, he pulled her back to the table and down into his lap. “Don’t want this to get cold,” he said, picking up the remains of his bacon. “Damn, you’re a fine cook. What I foresee this being, Venus, is we date and date and have lots of sex and you get to know my family and I get to know yours and then I ask you to marry me and we get married and have a passel of kids and our house will always be full of busybody relatives.”

She closed her eyes. “Marriage and kids? We’ve been on one date, two if you count that first time at the diner. That’s not fast?”

“Every single lunch from May to now was a date.”

“This can’t happen. Look, let’s just date, have fun. Leave the marriage talk out of the equation.”

“Are you saying I’m only good enough to f**k?”

“Just go. Get your stuff and go.” But she said it with no conviction at all and he waved it off.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tate Murphy. Not in the way you’re suggesting. You need to know that right now. I don’t give up when there’s something worthy of working for. You may think I’m some soft, shallow guy who doesn’t know what it means to struggle and maybe that’s true in a lot of ways. But damn it, I’m worthy of you.”

“What the f**k are you talking about? This isn’t about you! This is about me.”

He stood, setting her on her feet gently before kissing her forehead. “I’m going to get going. Not because I’m going for good but I need to help Kyle do some work in my parents’ yard this morning.”

“I’m…I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Matt. I don’t think you’re soft and shallow. God, I don’t even know where you get that. You’re wonderful and handsome and funny and sweet. And you’re not for me. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how wrong I am for you?”

“I’m not arguing with you over that point, Tate. It’s a stupid f**king point and I’m not discussing it.” He shrugged into his shirt and sat to lace his shoes. “I’ll be here tonight after dinner with my parents. I hear you make excellent dessert.”

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