day."
* * *
Chase looked at her with surprise. He couldn't figure her out, the way she ran hot and cold. For a moment there, he could've sworn she was into him, with those soft blue eyes gazing at his arms, that sweet little smile playing around her lips. Next thing, she was busting his ass as though he'd begged her for an audition.
Which he didn't even want. Hell, he'd never been happier with his work than the last six weeks on the rig. Being part of a team, learning his way around the massive equipment, carrying his weight and feeling pleasantly exhausted at the end of the day... and then that magic moment when they brought up the black gold from the earth, the precious oil glistening among the dirt and rocks and drilling mud. It wasn't until his father was dead that Chase finally believed he'd never end up like Gerald: spending his life in boardrooms and on airplanes, working with spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentation as his hands grew soft and his sciatica and heart disease weakened him. Chase had spent the last decade working on his music, playing local venues in Red Fork and writing songs and teaching kids how to play guitar, but it wasn't until Gerald was in the ground that he realized it had all been an effort to run away. Well, he wasn't running any more. He was an oilman now, making more than enough money, building a future, living among friends. Gerald would have hated knowing that Chase made his living with his hands and his sweat—but Chase finally didn't care what Gerald thought.
It was just a damn shame that when he finally found a woman who caught his eye, she too wanted him to be something he wasn't. And he wasn't about to change, not even for those irresistible soft curves, that silly skirt that seemed to slide up of its own accord to show off her pretty dimpled knees, those bright red-tipped toes in those crazy shiny high-heeled shoes...
"I'm not singing," he burst out, more gruffly than he meant to. "I never asked you to come out here in the first place. I've got plenty of chores I could be doing—Matthew and Zane are putting up sheetrock today and I ought to be helping. I don't want to go to Nashville. I have no intention of singing for a living. I'll go along to dinner for Sherry's sake, because she's a good girl with real potential, and I'd like to see something good happen for her, but that's it. The sooner you drag her back to Tennessee with you, the sooner you'll leave me in peace."
His voice trailed off at the end. The speech had taken it out of him. Or, more likely, he had mixed feelings about Regina leaving him in peace—or leaving, at all. Why couldn't Regina McCary have been the dental assistant who worked on his teeth last week, or the girl who came out to read the meter last month? Both of them had seemed plenty interested in him, which was pretty remarkable given the scarcity of red-blooded women in this town. The dental assistant had even written her phone number—along with a sketch of a smiling tooth—on the back of his reminder card. But he hadn't called either of them. Lovely as they were, Chase felt like he was leading the right life for the first time he could remember, and he wasn't about to do anything to mess that up. Relationships meant drama, and drama was the last thing he needed right now.
But for a woman like Regina... if she hadn't been sent to plague him about his singing... if she could have just had some normal job... hell, that might be worth a little sacrifice.
"Just one song," she said softly. "Please."
It was the "please" that did it. That, and the scent of lilac drifting up from the hedge that grew out of control along the fence by the house. And maybe the feel of her softly rounded arm against his. God, she had soft skin, milky white and cool, and for one brief flash, he imagined his hand circling those delicate forearms as he—
Holy cow, where had that come from? Chase cleared his throat, unable to look at her lest she know from his
* * *
Chase looked at her with surprise. He couldn't figure her out, the way she ran hot and cold. For a moment there, he could've sworn she was into him, with those soft blue eyes gazing at his arms, that sweet little smile playing around her lips. Next thing, she was busting his ass as though he'd begged her for an audition.
Which he didn't even want. Hell, he'd never been happier with his work than the last six weeks on the rig. Being part of a team, learning his way around the massive equipment, carrying his weight and feeling pleasantly exhausted at the end of the day... and then that magic moment when they brought up the black gold from the earth, the precious oil glistening among the dirt and rocks and drilling mud. It wasn't until his father was dead that Chase finally believed he'd never end up like Gerald: spending his life in boardrooms and on airplanes, working with spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentation as his hands grew soft and his sciatica and heart disease weakened him. Chase had spent the last decade working on his music, playing local venues in Red Fork and writing songs and teaching kids how to play guitar, but it wasn't until Gerald was in the ground that he realized it had all been an effort to run away. Well, he wasn't running any more. He was an oilman now, making more than enough money, building a future, living among friends. Gerald would have hated knowing that Chase made his living with his hands and his sweat—but Chase finally didn't care what Gerald thought.
It was just a damn shame that when he finally found a woman who caught his eye, she too wanted him to be something he wasn't. And he wasn't about to change, not even for those irresistible soft curves, that silly skirt that seemed to slide up of its own accord to show off her pretty dimpled knees, those bright red-tipped toes in those crazy shiny high-heeled shoes...
"I'm not singing," he burst out, more gruffly than he meant to. "I never asked you to come out here in the first place. I've got plenty of chores I could be doing—Matthew and Zane are putting up sheetrock today and I ought to be helping. I don't want to go to Nashville. I have no intention of singing for a living. I'll go along to dinner for Sherry's sake, because she's a good girl with real potential, and I'd like to see something good happen for her, but that's it. The sooner you drag her back to Tennessee with you, the sooner you'll leave me in peace."
His voice trailed off at the end. The speech had taken it out of him. Or, more likely, he had mixed feelings about Regina leaving him in peace—or leaving, at all. Why couldn't Regina McCary have been the dental assistant who worked on his teeth last week, or the girl who came out to read the meter last month? Both of them had seemed plenty interested in him, which was pretty remarkable given the scarcity of red-blooded women in this town. The dental assistant had even written her phone number—along with a sketch of a smiling tooth—on the back of his reminder card. But he hadn't called either of them. Lovely as they were, Chase felt like he was leading the right life for the first time he could remember, and he wasn't about to do anything to mess that up. Relationships meant drama, and drama was the last thing he needed right now.
But for a woman like Regina... if she hadn't been sent to plague him about his singing... if she could have just had some normal job... hell, that might be worth a little sacrifice.
"Just one song," she said softly. "Please."
It was the "please" that did it. That, and the scent of lilac drifting up from the hedge that grew out of control along the fence by the house. And maybe the feel of her softly rounded arm against his. God, she had soft skin, milky white and cool, and for one brief flash, he imagined his hand circling those delicate forearms as he—
Holy cow, where had that come from? Chase cleared his throat, unable to look at her lest she know from his
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