Tilting my head up, I bring my mouth to his and kiss him with every ounce of passion I can muster. And with my hands and my lips, I tell him exactly what I think of his definition ofus.
***
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, lying on our backs with matching grins on our lips. I roll to lay my head on his chest, just over his heart — which is quickly becoming my favorite place in the world — and listen to the comforting thump as my own heartbeat returns to normal.
“Who knew, when we met, that your family would be just as screwed up as mine?” I ask, after a while, my voice quiet.
A soft kiss lands on my temple. “Yours may be screwed up, but they’re not half as bad as the Crofts.”
“I don’t know, doesyourfamily saga include an illegitimate love child that will destroy the family if the media ever catches wind?” My voice is teasing. “Becauseminedoes. And, speaking as said illegitimate love child… it’s not as fun as it sounds.”
His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, then promptly snaps closed again. I see the muscle jumping in his cheek as his eyes swim with indecision.
“Chase?”
He lifts his gaze to meet mine, and the stark pain in it makes my heart stutter in my chest.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You asked whether the Crofts have an illegitimate love child in the mix, that’ll destroy the family if the media ever finds out.” His jaw tightens. “Yes. We do.”
“Chase…” I whisper, my mind racing through possibilities so fast I can barely keep up.
“Me.” His voice is flat, revealing none of the emotions swimming in his eyes. “I’m the bastard.”
My heart aches as he forces out words that are nearly enough to break him.
“Jameson isn’t my uncle. He’s my father.”
***
It all makes sense, now.
Why Brett resents him so much.
Why he hates being called Mr. Croft – hatesbeinga Croft.
Why he left, five years ago, when he learned the truth.
Why Jameson would leave the company to a nephew, instead of a son.
“So…” My voice is gentle, hesitant — as though one wrong word might make him shut down… and shut me out. “Your mother… she…”
“Cheated on her husband with his brother.” Chase nods. “I barely remember the woman, but she sounds like a wonderful person. Honest. Faithful. Exactly what a wife and mothershouldbe.”
His words are so sarcastic, so scathing, I want to flinch away. Instead, I do the opposite — I move closer, flattening my palm against his chest, directly above his heart. I feel it racing beneath my hand, an undeniable window into the anguish he’s feeling, no matter how composed he looks on the surface.
“I’m sorry, Chase,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, love.”
He doesn’t speak; I don’t know if hecan, right now.
“I know how it feels, to learn your life is a lie. I remember…” I shake my head, consumed with memories of my teenage self, crying on a bedroom floor with letters in my hands. Totally destroyed by the truth. “It’s like losing your identity. And it’s almost enough to kill you.”
“Itdidkill them.” His hand presses tighter against my back — the only show of emotion he’ll allow himself. “My parents… the night their car went over that bridge, into the water. That was the night my father finally learned the truth – that his wife was a cheater. And… that I wasn’t his son.”
“Oh, Chase…”