“Could you tell that to my mom?” Chase slipped a hint of humor into his voice and grinned at Nichole. She’d glanced back as if to check on their progress. “My mom would disagree with you.”
“Moms earn the right to be our biggest critics. They put up with us all those years growing up.” Dan dried his hands on a towel. “Still, you’ve called some of your best plays a gut reaction on the field. I wouldn’t discount those instincts now.”
If Dan knew the full truth, he might discount Chase completely. “What do you think?”
Dan rubbed his chin. “You need a professional to talk to her.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Chase said. “Or even proof that the Fund Infusion guys might not be all they claim to be.”
Dan snapped his fingers. “You need the Harringtons.”
“As in Ella’s grandmother, Mayor Harrington.” Wesley had mentioned Ella’s connection to a well-known person the first day Chase had met him.
Dan nodded. “You need her sons, Brad and Drew.”
“Brad Harrington has bodyguards,” Chase said, recalling Nichole’s earlier claim about Wesley requesting his own personal bodyguard.
“Among other things. Brad runs a security and private investigation firm.” Dan opened and closed several drawers in the island. He pulled out a pen and notepad from the last drawer. “Drew Harrington is the former DA who recently entered the private law sector. He’ll know a good contract from a bad one.”
“And the Harrington brothers will take my call because...” Chase took the paper from Dan. Chase was a pro football player and well-known athlete, yet that wasn’t always enough to grant him carte blanche to anyone he wanted to meet.
“Besides them both being huge Pioneers’ fans—” Dan clicked the pen closed as if everything was settled “—they’re also part of your family now. Brad married Ella’s mom, Sophie. She runs the pet store where Brooke and Nichole work with the fosters and rescues.”
“Then we’ll have a place to bring the kittens.” Chase sounded less than indifferent and almost disappointed. But they’d only brought home the kittens several hours earlier. He couldn’t be attached that quickly. He wasn’t one to get attached.
Dan nodded. “Nichole’s landlords changed to a no pet policy at the beginning of the year. So those kittens aren’t going home with her and Wesley. What about your house?”
“Uh...” Could Chase even have animals at his place? He’d never inquired about the owner’s pet policy at his rental house. Never considered adding more things to take care of in his house other than his herb plants.
“We already have two dogs and two cats.” Dan’s affectionate tone matched his bemused expression. “And we’re about to get three more fosters later this week.”
“I can’t take kittens to my house.” Beyond the animal policy Chase didn’t know of, he had absolutely no idea how to care for baby kittens.
“Don’t worry. They’ll be safe there until you can get them to Sophie’s shop.” Dan’s hand landed on Chase’s shoulder, solid and reassuring. “Brooke will teach you everything you need to know about proper kitten care. And in case you do keep them, Sophie will set you up with every kitten item you could possibly ever need.”
“But...”
“You rescued them,” Dan said. “You can’t abandon them now.”
Chase followed Dan into the family room. The kittens weren’t the only ones he was considering inviting into his home and not abandoning.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“YOU’RE BONDING.” AND so am I. Nichole stood in the bathroom doorway of the master bedroom and glowered at Chase.
He’d cooked her favorite chicken in a delicate parmesan white wine sauce for dinner, added chocolate chip cannoli—another one of her weaknesses—for dessert. And blended the evening together with consideration and the attentive skill of a seasoned, executive chef. During the meal, he’d looked after Wesley, refilled her glass before it emptied, delivered second helpings as if on cue. He cleared plates, shared stories and fit in among everyone as if he’d always cooked for them. Always cared for them.
“I’m not trying to bond.” Chase rebuilt the pillow wall, fluffing and restacking each pillow. “Wesley is a great kid. I can’t just ignore him.”
“Maybe you could be more like you’re supposed to be.” Nichole waved her toothbrush at the newspaper on the end table. If he’d act like she expected, she wouldn’t be standing in the bathroom, searching for all the reasons that opposites were not supposed to attract.
Chase released a pillow and glanced at Nichole. “What does that mean?”
“You could be like the Chase Jacobs who makes headlines.” She pointed at the newspaper, her arm stiff, the toothbrush aimed like an arrow. Panic shuddered through her, weakening her resolve.
“I am him,” Chase argued.
“No.” Nichole tossed her toothbrush on the counter, charged into the bedroom and crashed through their self-imposed distance. She’d make him understand and force her own heart to stand down. “That Chase Jacobs wouldn’t rescue kittens. He wouldn’t leave his gloves as markers and risk frostbite, then make plans to continue searching for the kitten’s mother the following day.”
“Media Chase” would’ve ordered takeout, signed Pioneers’ gear and entertained his guests with football facts and stats. That Chase would’ve been bored, searching for an excuse to leave and discover a nighttime thrill on a closed ski slope. He definitely would not share mishaps from his childhood, inquire about Wesley’s likes and dislikes or agree to play cards using colored marshmallows for bets.
Chase scratched his chin and considered her. The slow motion of his fingers curving around his cheek drew her gaze like a misguided moth to a flame. The curious interest in his eyes collided with awareness. She remained silent and tried to wrangle her own mixed-up feelings.
“Actually, he would.” Chase leaned forward, his gaze locked onto her face. “Don’t you remember my junior year when I made you quiz me while I searched the woods for the injured squirrel I’d seen?”
“We walked
