Read Online Chasin' Eight: Rough Riders, Book 12 by Lorelei James - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lorelei James
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flat.”
“I’ll remind you this was your idea. But I’m thinking we should alternate beer with whiskey.”
Ava held the shot glass between her palms. Maybe Chase wouldn’t notice if she didn’t drink it right away.
“Drink up so you can ask your question,” he drawled.
Dammit. She tossed the amber liquid into her mouth, suppressing a shudder. Time to put on her game face. “Truth or lie: my younger brother’s name is Axel because my mother heard ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ on the radio in the delivery room when she was in labor with him.”
Chase was quiet for a moment, then he laughed. “Easy. Lie. I doubt your mother has heard of the band Guns N’ Roses, let alone knows who the lead singer is.”
She nudged the full shot glass at him. “Bottoms up. Truth. My brother’s full name is Axel Rose Cooper Dumond. My mom heard the song, which is one of her all-time faves, in the throes of labor. And since my middle name is Rose, she believed it was a sign to name her baby boy Axel, after Axel Rose. FYI, Mom is a total rocker chick and a huge fan of ’80s metal bands.”
“I’ll be damned.” Chase drank his shot. “So, Ava Rose, what did your dad have to say about naming his son Axel?”
“Well, he is a mechanic, so it fits. But it was way better than the name he had picked out.”
“Which was?”
“Festus Merle.”
Chase frowned. “Is that true?”
“You tell me,” Ava challenged. “Or are you afraid you’ll have to drink again?”
A cocky smile spread across Chase’s face and heat curled in her belly. Oh, she so didn’t want to be just friends with this beautiful man. She wanted to taste that smirk on his lips. Suck the whisky from his tongue. And when he laughed? She could almost picture her head on his chest as she listened to that deep rumble.
“I ain’t afraid because I call bullshit on that one too.”
Ava splashed beer in his glass. “Have another. Because it’s one hundred percent true. My dad wanted the name Marshall Dillon Dumond. Since my mother vetoes his first suggestion on anything, he came up with Festus Merle, knowing she’d be horrified. Then when he sprang Marshall Dillon on her, she’d agree it was much better and he’d get his way.”
“Your dad is a big Gunsmoke fan?”
“Yes. We watched westerns every day after school.”
“Your parents don’t sound at all like I’d pictured them.”
“How did you picture them?”
He stretched out in his chair. “Like the rest of them rich, slick, skinny plastic people on TV who live in California. No offense.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t want for much growing up, but they kept a close eye on my brother and me. My dad is proud to be blue collar and refused to let us turn into rich-kid brats.” She sipped her water. “What are your parents like?”
“My dad’s a rancher, my mom’s a ranch wife. They’ve been married a long time. But they almost didn’t get married at all.”
“Really? What happened?”
“My mom’s dad was a preacher and didn’t want his daughter runnin’ around with one of them ‘wild McKay boys’ so he packed up their whole family and moved them from Wyoming.”
“Seriously?”
Chase smirked. “You tell me. Or are you afraid you’ll have to drink again?”
Fifty-fifty chance. She studied his face. Too impassive. The last thing he’d told her had been the truth, so this one had to be… “Lie. I’ll bet your mom and dad were high school sweethearts and haven’t been apart since they met.”
“Wrong. Drink up.”
She sighed and swallowed the beer in one gulp. “Okay. Now tell me the whole story.”
“Evidently my grandfather thought my dad’s family was a bunch of immoral heathens. He sent my mom away to a private Christian high school in Colorado when it looked like my mom and dad were getting too serious. As soon as he found a replacement preacher for his parish in Hulett, they were long gone.”
“So how did your mom and dad get back together?”
“According
“I’ll remind you this was your idea. But I’m thinking we should alternate beer with whiskey.”
Ava held the shot glass between her palms. Maybe Chase wouldn’t notice if she didn’t drink it right away.
“Drink up so you can ask your question,” he drawled.
Dammit. She tossed the amber liquid into her mouth, suppressing a shudder. Time to put on her game face. “Truth or lie: my younger brother’s name is Axel because my mother heard ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ on the radio in the delivery room when she was in labor with him.”
Chase was quiet for a moment, then he laughed. “Easy. Lie. I doubt your mother has heard of the band Guns N’ Roses, let alone knows who the lead singer is.”
She nudged the full shot glass at him. “Bottoms up. Truth. My brother’s full name is Axel Rose Cooper Dumond. My mom heard the song, which is one of her all-time faves, in the throes of labor. And since my middle name is Rose, she believed it was a sign to name her baby boy Axel, after Axel Rose. FYI, Mom is a total rocker chick and a huge fan of ’80s metal bands.”
“I’ll be damned.” Chase drank his shot. “So, Ava Rose, what did your dad have to say about naming his son Axel?”
“Well, he is a mechanic, so it fits. But it was way better than the name he had picked out.”
“Which was?”
“Festus Merle.”
Chase frowned. “Is that true?”
“You tell me,” Ava challenged. “Or are you afraid you’ll have to drink again?”
A cocky smile spread across Chase’s face and heat curled in her belly. Oh, she so didn’t want to be just friends with this beautiful man. She wanted to taste that smirk on his lips. Suck the whisky from his tongue. And when he laughed? She could almost picture her head on his chest as she listened to that deep rumble.
“I ain’t afraid because I call bullshit on that one too.”
Ava splashed beer in his glass. “Have another. Because it’s one hundred percent true. My dad wanted the name Marshall Dillon Dumond. Since my mother vetoes his first suggestion on anything, he came up with Festus Merle, knowing she’d be horrified. Then when he sprang Marshall Dillon on her, she’d agree it was much better and he’d get his way.”
“Your dad is a big Gunsmoke fan?”
“Yes. We watched westerns every day after school.”
“Your parents don’t sound at all like I’d pictured them.”
“How did you picture them?”
He stretched out in his chair. “Like the rest of them rich, slick, skinny plastic people on TV who live in California. No offense.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t want for much growing up, but they kept a close eye on my brother and me. My dad is proud to be blue collar and refused to let us turn into rich-kid brats.” She sipped her water. “What are your parents like?”
“My dad’s a rancher, my mom’s a ranch wife. They’ve been married a long time. But they almost didn’t get married at all.”
“Really? What happened?”
“My mom’s dad was a preacher and didn’t want his daughter runnin’ around with one of them ‘wild McKay boys’ so he packed up their whole family and moved them from Wyoming.”
“Seriously?”
Chase smirked. “You tell me. Or are you afraid you’ll have to drink again?”
Fifty-fifty chance. She studied his face. Too impassive. The last thing he’d told her had been the truth, so this one had to be… “Lie. I’ll bet your mom and dad were high school sweethearts and haven’t been apart since they met.”
“Wrong. Drink up.”
She sighed and swallowed the beer in one gulp. “Okay. Now tell me the whole story.”
“Evidently my grandfather thought my dad’s family was a bunch of immoral heathens. He sent my mom away to a private Christian high school in Colorado when it looked like my mom and dad were getting too serious. As soon as he found a replacement preacher for his parish in Hulett, they were long gone.”
“So how did your mom and dad get back together?”
“According
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