Big Girl Panties (14 page)

“Of course, it's easy to take that approach when you have a lot of good luck,” Chase said, appearing to have read her mind. “But I'm not totally convinced that one doesn't automatically follow the other. If you're willing to roll with the punches, you find you get punched less.”

“What is it with all you overachievers and your inspirational phrases?” Holly asked impulsively after taking another long swallow from her beer. She had never been big on alcohol, food always having been her vice of choice. It didn't take much to make her feel bolder.

“Uh-oh.” Chase laughed, taking note of her now-half-empty bottle and her newly found cynicism. “Are we going to have to worry about you growing a pair of whiskey muscles and throwing down?”

“No.” Holly drained the bottle and set it on the bar, fighting the painful belch that drinking the brew so fast created. “I just think you two must have spent a great deal of time reading Deepak Chopra or Tony Robbins.”

“Well, Logan and I did take a philosophy course together at UCI, but I didn't really think I was paying all that much attention,” Chase mused.

“What happened, you jocks needed a few liberal arts credits?”

“Actually, I think I lost a bet. Or he dared me to become enlightened. Maybe both. At any rate, I'm pretty sure I aced the course, probably with his help. My approach to life has always been a lot simpler than Logan's. I've always been a ‘go big or go home' sort of guy. See it, identify it, and deal with it. He's always been a bit more cerebral.” He pointed to one of the unopened bottles on the bar, and not bothering to wait for Holly's response, he twisted the cap off and set the bottle in front of her.

“Now, that I believe,” she remarked, making no move to reach for the bottle.

“Except for the ‘no pain, no gain' theory,” Chase said, finishing off his beer and opening the other bottle left on the bar for himself. “We're both subscribers to that one.”

“That one doesn't surprise me either,” Holly told him drily.

“I like to think we strike a good balance with each other.”

“And I always figured you two were cut from the same cloth.” Holly reached for her fresh beer. She had said too much, the result of trying too hard, and was one snarky comment away from insulting the man. Her only hope was to blame being drunk.

But Chase didn't appear on the verge of being offended. He looked at her kindly for a minute and then said, “About some things, maybe. Not everything.”

“Like what?” Holly asked. She wanted to know.

“Like women.” He smiled at her again. “And that's probably half your problem.”

“I don't understand,” she told him, confident they were getting to the meat-and-potatoes part of their conversation. All the things she didn't think she could bear hearing. She resisted the sudden urge to start guzzling her beer.

Chase paused, and Holly could tell he was giving some thought to what he was going to say. “Before I met Amanda, I was with a lot of women. I figured it was expected of me, sort of like it came with the job.”

And that's so different from Logan,
she thought sarcastically, remembering the various beauties she saw in Logan's Facebook pictures. Not that her memory had to go into overdrive—she had been visiting his page daily to torture herself and knew every single one of his pictures by heart.

Chase continued. “But each woman I met, or hooked up with, had a unique specialness. It wasn't always about instant attraction. Of course, I had to be attracted in some way, but the definition of that was broad. She didn't have to look a particular way, fit a certain mold.”

“I think the word you're looking for is ‘type.' It's okay, Chase, you can say it,” Holly told him, feeling an awful grinding in her stomach. It wasn't from alcohol.

“Okay. Type. I didn't have one. The only type that mattered to me was the type of mood I was in. Logan? Not so much. It was always a certain type of look that caught his attention, and for as long as I've known him, he hasn't strayed from it.”

“And I'm not it,” Holly said sadly, beginning to pick at the label on her Coors Light.

“No. You're not,” Chase told her gently, and then said, “But it's that very fact that has me so curious.”

“Really?” She stopped toying with the bottle and looked back up at Chase, hopeful. “How so?”

“You're here, aren't you?” he asked her meaningfully. “I certainly didn't tell him to bring you. I just called a friend and asked if he wanted to join us for a beer. Not that your company isn't always a welcome addition,” Chase added with a grin.

“And you think that means something?” Holly couldn't help grinning back, brightening. Logan
had
called her on the spur of the moment, asking her if she'd like to tag along. It wasn't like they already had a plan.

“I'm not really sure,” he told her truthfully. “I know how fond Amanda's become of you, and that a lot of the times we've gone out have been with her orchestration. But times like tonight do leave me wondering.”

“That's not much help,” Holly mumbled under her breath, deflated. “I figured it was something like that, Amanda coercing Logan all along. Not much to wonder about there.”

“This much I do know: Logan has always been a bit of a scoundrel and getting attached to a woman has never been part of his plan. He's never stayed with any woman for long. It's like he recognizes what he looks like and thinks that he's supposed to be this playboy. Remember what I mentioned before about what I thought was expected of me? It's almost like he's doing something that he feels is expected of him. We don't spend much time getting into each other's business, but I don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out his rotation of girls either.”

“Why are you telling me all of this, Chase?” she whispered, more dismayed than encouraged.

“Because of the way you sound right now,” he whispered back.

“Why do you even care?” She looked up at him with a sadness she knew reached her eyes.

“Because I think you deserve to be happy, even if it's not with Logan.”

Holly blinked, swallowing hard, and nodded.

Chase continued sympathetically. “And I'm thinking that having him so close is probably getting rough. He's getting all the perks of this friendship, completely ignorant that your feelings have changed. You're playing along because you're not willing to risk exposing yourself and losing him. It appears to be a no-win situation. But you know, sometimes not getting what you want is getting exactly what you need.”

Holly knew there was no point in confirming what Chase already knew and instead rolled her eyes, trying to smile. “Here we go again. More Dalai Lama–isms.”

Chase chuckled. “I think the Rolling Stones would get the credit for that one. I also think you're strong, probably even stronger than you give yourself credit for. I've watched you do a complete turnaround with sheer will and determination, even if Logan had a hand in making that happen. And even if this relationship with Logan doesn't go exactly in the direction you want it to, it doesn't mean that it isn't worth it. He's a good guy to have on your side. His lack of interest doesn't mean you're not worthy. Or that you aren't a damn sexy woman.”

She blinked at him again, this time smiling with no effort before shyly looking down at the bar. “Thanks, Chase.”

“There is so much potential in you. It's as plain as the nose on my face. You remember that. Just because you may not be right for my single-minded friend, it doesn't mean there aren't plenty of men out there who'd fall in love with you in a heartbeat.”

She stared at him, speechless. Never in her whole life had anyone spoken to her like that, not even Logan. Certainly not Bruce. Forget about her parents. It didn't even matter that the words came from someone completely uninterested in her. They were sincere. And then she saw it, even in the minimal lighting of the bar, amazed she had never noticed it before.

“You have a scar,” she said in disbelief.

Chase took note of where she was looking, reached up, and automatically touched a spot above his left eyebrow, his fingertips tracing across the inch and a half of rough raised skin. “This thing? Yeah, I got hit with a foul ball that ricocheted off the corner of a dugout back in college. A one-in-a-million shot. Never even saw it coming. If you look real close, you can see it actually looks like the stitching of the baseball. That thing was like a missile. Logan said I was lucky; it hit the hardest part of my head. I never was sure if he meant it as an insult.”

It didn't really mar him in any way. In fact, it only enhanced his ruggedness. But somehow, that tiny mark made him real, and she was comforted by it. She had been surrounded by people she felt she didn't measure up to since her journey began, searching for the confirmation that any one of them would have a clue what it was like to be her. All along, the imperfection was right in front of her, and in the most unlikely candidate. Chase Walker was totally human, she mused. And in that moment, Holly became his greatest fan.

“Holly,” Chase said, gently but insistently, “about what I said to you before. Tell me you understand.”

“Understand what?” Amanda broke into the conversation, having finished with the pool table.

Chase sat up and casually rotated himself on his bar stool, creating a space between his legs. Pulling his wife by her waist, he settled her there. “Understand how impolite it is to eavesdrop.” His answer sounded like an affectionate mix of teasing and scolding.

“Who's eavesdropping?” Amanda immediately responded. “I'm not hiding behind a curtain or anything. It's not my fault you were so deep in conversation you didn't hear me tell you it was your turn.”

“I'm guessing you lost?” Chase asked, his hand drifting slightly from her waist to settle on her hip. He glanced over to the pool table, where Logan was reracking the balls.

“Yes, I did.” Amanda sulked, more for her husband's enjoyment than from any bitterness at losing a game of billiards. “And don't change the subject.”

“And what exactly was the subject again?” Chase asked innocently, deliberately trying to rile her.

Amanda gave an exasperated harrumph before turning directly to Holly. “Holly, what are you supposed to understand?”

“Um . . . I . . . well,” Holly stammered. Chase was being evasive. But she realized what he was really doing was saving her from having to admit she had spent the last several months acting the fool.

Chase smoothly redirected the conversation, saving Holly from further stuttering. “I was simply reminding Holly that she needs to be wary of scoundrels out there looking to take advantage of young attractive widows with a few dollars in their pockets.”

Wow,
Holly thought,
this guy is good.
It was a tiny white lie wrapped up in all sorts of truth. She did need to be wary, but only of one scoundrel in particular, and the only thing he had stolen was her heart.

Amanda seemed satisfied with his explanation. She turned back to Holly. “He's right, you know.”

“I also wanted her to know there are lots of genuinely nice guys out there and she should work on recognizing the difference,” Chase added, smiling supportively in Holly's direction. “For when she's ready to get back into the dating circuit, that is.”

A momentary look of abject horror passed over Amanda's face and then quickly faded. She took several steps away from Chase's bar stool and his grasp, smiling absently at Holly. Then Amanda slowly turned her head back in the direction of her husband, leveled a cold stare at him, and through a forced smile said, “Oh he did, did he?”

Chase met his wife's fiery gaze, one that was shielded from Holly's view, with an amused eyebrow raised and an overly tolerant yet emphatic, “I sure did.”

“Did what?” Logan, tired of waiting for Chase at the pool table, had returned to the bar to catch the tail end of the exchange. Taking note of all the empty bottles, he called out to the bartender, “Hey, Glen, can we get another round?”

Amanda was more than happy to furnish Logan with the answer to his question after passing another disgruntled look at her husband. “Chase here was just telling Holly about all the nice guys out there, for when she's ready to get back into the
dating circuit
.”

“Really?” Logan replied offhandedly while secretly wanting to advise his friend in no uncertain terms to mind his own business. He jammed his hand in his pocket to pull out some money and cover the round. “I'm curious: just how would a thoroughly married man and recovered man-whore qualify as an expert on that subject?”

“Did you just refer to my husband as a man-whore?” Amanda asked, torn between getting defensive and laughing her ass off.

Logan shrugged. “Man-whore, baseball player, same difference.”

Holly's mouth dropped open, and she felt the undercurrent of something strange taking place that she couldn't put her finger on. Suddenly everybody seemed so animated and it appeared they were all speaking in double entendres. But she was sure about one thing: she certainly didn't consider the term “man-whore” one of endearment.

Chase's amusement was unmistakable. “You haven't called me that in years. Are you drunk?”

Logan responded with the standard inside joke from their college days. “Not yet.” No matter how drunk they actually were back then, “Not yet” would always be the answer to that question, even if it was being said while leaning face-first into a toilet bowl. He reached for one of the four fresh beers that Glen placed on the bar and took a long swallow, satisfied that he had avoided raising suspicion.

“Is that on the agenda?” Holly asked, excited by the prospect of seeing Logan sloshed, a huge departure from his ever-present control.