8. Eden

EIGHT

eden

We ride in silence most of the way to town, the tension so thick I can hardly breathe.

If I don't say something soon, I'm going to word vomit something inappropriate.

"As a thank you for letting me stay, I'd like to make you dinner. Have any preferences?"

"I'll eat anything that tastes good."

He glances over at me for a moment before focusing back on the road, a wicked smile lifting one edge of his mouth. "You remember, right?"

I look away, staring out the side window at the passing landscape. "I remember."

As if I can forget.

And it's something I need to get out of my head. Chase has always been an intense guy, and the orgasms he induced were no exception.

When I get back to New York, I need to find a man and get laid properly.

Unfortunately, this sudden case of horniness I seem to be afflicted with has one antidote .

The man sitting mere feet from me in all his shirtless, sexy-as-sin glory.

"Doesn't this thing have air?" I ask, my voice laced with irritation.

"The air is on."

I fan my face then reach over to mess with the climate controls. But there are so many it looks like the dashboard of a damn jet. "Well, it's like a sauna in here."

He takes his eyes off the road for a minute to reach over and turn up the fan for my side of the cabin. Cool air blows out, hitting my overheated skin.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

When we come to a stop at one of the few traffic lights on the strip, he looks over at me, a brow raised. "You're planning to drug me with dinner, aren't you? So that I'll say yes to your proposal?"

"Well, hell. You figured me out." I throw my hands up. "Guess I'll have to move to plan B."

"Do I want to know what plan B is?"

I give him a smirk I hope makes him squirm. "Nope. But if we want to make it back to your house any time soon, you'll need to take your foot off the brake." I gesture toward the windshield. "Green light."

He drags his gaze from mine and stomps on the gas, making the truck lurch.

I roll my lips inward to keep from laughing and look out the window until we arrive at the Island Grocery.

The parking lot's packed, and it appears everyone on the island is making their last-minute run for groceries.

Inside, there's a din of noise with all the people milling around, and it smells like a combination of suntan lotion and cleaning products .

I grab the last shopping cart available, and Chase—who finally put a shirt on—heads left as I head right.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Beer cooler and meat department. You got the rest, right?"

He starts to walk away, but I block him with the cart. "No, I don't have the rest. You never told me what you wanted. How will I know what to get if I don't know what you want?"

"Surprise me."

Before I can respond, he sidesteps the cart and walks in the opposite direction of where I need to go.

The man knows I need a list; I thrive on them. Gripping the cart handle, I pretend it's Chase's neck.

Infuriating jerk.

I blow out a breath, square my shoulders, and push forward. "You can do this, Eden. You're a professional business owner in New York City. You can handle a single meal with your ex."

The aisles are crowded, the shelves nearly empty, and a fight between two beehived blue-hairs—their hair is literally a silver blue—breaks out in front of a toilet paper end cap.

When the plastic wrap of one of the packages rips and rolls of toilet paper start flying, I take a quick left down the nearest aisle.

And run my cart right into another customer.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"It's a mess, isn't it?"

A beautiful, dark-haired woman who looks as out of place as I feel stands across from me.

Her serene smile in the midst of the chaos is comforting. I nod and blow out a breath. "Yeah. It's a nightmare actually."

She chuckles and looks around. "This is the busiest I've ever seen it in here. I tried like hell not to end up here, but"—she shrugs a slim shoulder—"kids always have other plans. "

I study her. She looks to be a little younger than I am, dressed casually in shorts and a tank top, flip-flops on her feet, her hair pulled into a ponytail.

But she has a look about her that screams class in spite of the dressed-down attire. She certainly doesn't look like she has kids.

And what, pray tell, are women who have kids supposed to look like, Eden?

When a lull hits the conversation, she holds out her hand. "Charley Gentry."

Nate's wife is a bit younger than I expected. I vaguely recall reading about her in the papers last year.

While she isn't what I expected, she's exactly right for Nate.

I return her handshake. "Eden Mitchell." I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I'm usually better at the small talk."

"First time on the island during a hurricane?"

"During a hurricane, yes. What gave me away?"

She laughs. "The deer in the headlights look was my first clue. I remember the look well. Where I come from, hurricanes aren't a thing."

"Where's home for you?"

She smiles. "A mountain town called Madison Ridge in North Georgia."

I furrow my brow. "How did you meet Nate?"

"Ah, well. That's a story better suited for margaritas and cheese dip. But long story short, his sister is my best friend. He came up for her birthday party and it went from there."

A grin lights up her face. "Meeting him changed all my plans. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

I swallow hard against the ball of emotion in my throat.

Once upon a time, I'm sure my face lit up the same way hers does when I thought about Chase .

Now the only thing that seems to go up where he's concerned is my blood pressure.

"How long have you lived here?" I ask, wanting to hear her story so I don't think so much about mine.

"Well, Nate's been here a few years, but I moved here permanently about a year or so ago."

She tilts her head, her eyes studying me. "Nate told me about meeting you and how you were here to see Chase." One side of her mouth curves up. "Said it was quite the show."

My cheeks warm and I look away, tapping a finger on the cart handle. "I'm a bit embarrassed by that. I don't…"

Charley waved a hand. "I get it. Men can be a pain in the ass. Especially men that look like those two. Add in all that testosterone and the athlete thing?" She sighs. "Well, let's just say I know I'm going to have my hands full the rest of my life."

"Well, hey there."

I look up to see Nate on the other side of the cart.

Just perfect.

"Hey." I wave awkwardly.

"Chase still giving you shit?"

"Absolutely. But he's letting me stay at his house since I'm homeless at the moment."

"Well, that sounds promising. I mean, if he really hated you, he wouldn't do that," Charley says.

"I suppose…"

"Firefly…" Nate rubs the back of his neck. "Leave the poor girl alone."

"Oh hush," she says, patting his arm. "I'm just making conversation, babe."

She winks and Nate rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to get beer," he grumbles before walking off.

Charley giggles and directs her attention back to me. "So, you've known Chase a while? Before he was in the majors? "

"Yeah, we went to college together. But I haven't talked to him in four years."

The thought pains me, and yet I'm the one who'd run and put those walls up.

Looking back, it made sense at the time. It was an emotional time for him and we went too far.

When it comes to Chase though, my good judgment always goes on hiatus.

Her nod is one of understanding. "I get it. It's hard with athletes. I work for the Bull Sharks, so I'm around them all the time. They can be…hard on the heart."

My eyes start to tear up and I clear my throat of the emotions I don't want there. "Yeah, I wish I'd known that a long time ago."

"Fortunately, I love my job, and being married to Nate helps. But I've seen the girls come and go with these players."

"I love my work too," I say, grabbing on to the part of the conversation that has nothing to do with matters of the heart. "I'm actually here for work. I'm hoping Chase will help with an event my company is managing."

"Oh, really? What do you do?"

"I own an event planning and management business in New York."

"No kidding? I'm the manager of marketing and events. What kind of events do you manage?"

"Mostly corporate events. This is a charity fundraiser for a group of businessmen in New York."

"Interesting. Do you only work in New York?"

"Right now, yes. We haven't branched out just yet."

"Well, if you ever need a job, call me. My boss, Darcy, would love you."

"If Chase doesn't help me out, I may have to take you up on that. "

I certainly won't be planning any events. The only thing I'll be planning is my imminent move to a cardboard box on the street corner.

There's a pause in conversation as I look at what aisle I'm in. Two thoughts cross my mind at once.

One, I know what I'm going to make for dinner.

And two, Charley may have some info that I really don't need but want.

"What…um…" Spit it out, Mitchell. You know you want to know. "Do you know if Chase has a girlfriend?"

She smiles and looks around before leaning forward. "According to Nate, no. There was a girl he hung out with some last year. She was a bartender at The Red Parrot, but moved to Miami about a year ago."

"She just up and left? Why?"

Charley shrugs. "Not everyone here is a lifer. There're three kinds of people that live here. Those that were born here and stay, those that were born here but plan to flee the first chance they get, and the ones that visit and never leave. Tess was born here and was ready to explore. Chase came and never left."

"How do you know it wasn't serious?"

"According to my husband, Chase didn't want it to be serious. Look,"—she leans forward again—"you know him, so you know Chase is a little on the grumpy side, but I'm sure you also know he's got a heart of gold. He's the go-to guy on the island when anyone needs something fixed. And if he can't do it, he hires the best people who can. He helps coach the high school team and a little league team. The kids and coaches adore him, and the town really loves him when the team ends up going to state like they did last year. He may have only lived here for a few years or so, but they've embraced him like the prodigal son." She pauses, brow raised. "But then I'm sure you already knew all that. "

Actually, I didn't know any of that about him. I open my mouth to ask more questions—questions I really have no business asking—but the man himself walks up.

I clamp my mouth shut.

"Hey, Charley. How's it going? Where's that beautiful baby?"

I can't help it. My head snaps to the man next to me, confusion running riot in my brain.

Who is this man?

Charley grins at Chase. "She's with Julian. Just getting some last-minute supplies. And talking to your friend Eden here."

He frowns, looking down at the items in the cart. "What are you going to make?"

"Hey, you said to surprise you. So that's what I'm going to do."

"Great, now you listen to what I say."

He shakes his head and gives Charley his trademark panty-dropping smile that he seems to give everyone but me.

Not that I want it or need it.

"Tell little Lucy I'll be over to kiss her belly when the storm's over."

I might be gawking at this point.

Charley chuckles. "Sure thing. See y'all later."

We say our goodbyes, and when they're out of earshot I say, "Since when did you go around kissing baby bellies?"

He shrugs and stares hard at a can of refried beans, not meeting my stare. "Lucy's adorable. It's hard not to want to give her belly kisses." Clearing his throat, he pulls at the cart. "Come on, let's finish up."

My mind and heart are scrambled as we pick up the rest of the dinner items before making our way to the front of the store, which takes longer with all the people stopping to say hello to Chase .

Watching him interact with the people of the town, I think about how Charley told me he works with the school. Judging by the number of people talking to him, he's a popular guy in town.

Oddly, none of them treat him like a legendary, celebrity baseball player.

The truth is I don't know much about the man Chase Hanover is now. But it doesn't seem to align with the man I once knew.

At the register, the cashier chats like there isn't an odd spring hurricane about to hit, and when it comes time to pay, I hand over my card.

"No way, Mitchell." Chase pushes my hand out of the cashier's reach.

"It's the least I can do." I push back, trying to reach around him and hand the girl my card.

"Put it on my account, please." Chase smiles at the girl, who nods and blushes.

"Yes, Mr. Hanover." She pushes a couple of buttons on the computerized screen, and I swear she has hearts in her eyes.

I roll mine and stuff my card back into my wallet. "You don't play fair, Chase."

"We can agree on that, at least," he replies, putting the bags into the shopping cart.

As we load groceries into the back seat of Chase's truck, Charley and Nate walk by.

"It was nice to meet you, Eden," she calls out. "Maybe once the storm blows over, you can come over for dinner or drinks."

"It was nice to meet you as well. But I'm headed back to New York as soon as they open the bridge."

She nods, but her smile drops a fraction. "Okay, well, maybe next time. Be safe. "

As she starts to walk away, I think of something. "Hey, Charley."

She stops and looks back. "Yeah?"

"Do you ever miss home?"

Her smile is wistful. "I miss my mom and siblings. But home is wherever Nate and Lucy are now."

I don't know what to say to that, but tears spring to my eyes, making me blink hard.

Her smile grows. "Life's funny, Eden. You just never know where you're going to end up."